Chapter 1: The Cascade Butcher
Chapter Text
Arc 1
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Chapter 1
The Cascade Butcher
***
Thump—swish. Thump—swish.
The windshield wipers composed his thoughts at a steady rhythm as he gazed blankly out the rain-streaked glass. It offered a metronome soundtrack that reverberated through the cab until fading into white noise of his musings.
Twenty minutes prior, the cityscape had bled away to the suburbs in the dreary weather, collecting streams of runoff along curbs and rushing to storm drains. Leaves, grass clippings, stray trash; each disappearing underground and cleansing the streets. Winter was lurking closer, and nature was preparing to go dormant till the changing of the year.
It was a boring backdrop to the late morning, if he was honest. And perhaps that was heartless of him to think when on his way to look at a fresh, waterlogged corpse. Then again, he couldn’t help that there was nothing of real interest in keeping his attention on the drab drive. Normally, he’d find the rain comforting in the pattering of drops against the metal roof, and yet the monochrome of grey left him feeling… malaise.
A silly thought, all things considered. It didn’t help that the conversation with his long-time friend had since run dry once they passed city limits.
Focusing on his peripheral, keeping his cheek on the perch of his knuckles, Erwin observed his aloof companion in the driver’s seat. There was a steady focus on the traffic and wet roads, hawkish hazel gaze observing everything through the striate windscreen. Sandy hair long enough to curtain across his brow and down his nape and ears. The ends lifted disobediently in their own wave from rubbing against the jacket collar which hugged broad shoulders. A pronounced Roman nose coveted the trimmed mustache and goatee, to the point of appearing as a mix between a surfer bum and a musketeer. A 6’4” culture clash rolled into his giant of a frame.
While Erwin, himself, carried a keen height, it certainly didn’t stack up to Mike’s. Both men were blond and fair with light eyes, although Erwin’s was more of blue sea glass than hazel. At first glance, many could accidentally assume that they were related in the way siblings often were. Erwin carried a strong Achillean nose and dressed head-to-toe in a conservative Parisian suit, groomed and elegant, like an elder brother to the rebel free spirit. Yet they were not related. In fact, they failed to share the same genetic variation to be deemed members of the equivalent species.
Once upon a time, a prolonged two centuries prior, their familiarity would make for scandalized dinner conversations. To intermingle amongst--not only outside supranatural species, but humans on top of it--was a great cause for slander and disownment. Ultimately, mentalities had no choice but to adapt, and thankfully continued to do so. At an agonizing pace, sure, but time was abstract to creatures that didn’t wither in the face of millennia.
When supranatural groups first merged with human society, it took nearly 177 years to quell much of the typical exclusion and old-world views. Even today, these issues were present, especially amongst senior circles of tradition and clans, however it was impossible to admit that times were changing. Some mannerisms remained repressed and often ignored, but like all things that are born into existence, customary opinions were not so easily culled.
Erwin would know a thing or two about that, being a Reaper as he was.
“You know,” Mike’s voice shattered the pendulum score of the wiper blades, “it still vexes me that Shadis hadn’t called you on sooner. It’s not like we weren’t certain the murders were connected.”
Erwin didn’t move from leaning on his hand, though he let his gaze pan to his closest friend. “I’m sure he wanted to keep the investigation in-house as long as possible. Doesn’t help I left the last consultation on poor terms with him.”
Mike chuckled, pausing to let the GPS voice give the next set of directions before continuing the discussion. “Be that as it may, it’s not like your differences of opinion have ever aligned. You both bicker like an estranged couple. Hard to believe you’ve only ever shared a working relationship sometimes. Even you and Marie don’t argue like that after everything that’s happened.”
“I’m sure after all these decades, he’s grown weary of our disagreements and chose to limit exposure to them,” Erwin willfully ignored the last comment. “When have we ever seen eye-to-eye?”
“Meh,” Mike gave a half shrug as he turned off the main road into a network of neighborhoods. “Never since I’ve known you. Although, despite your disputes, he knows your consultation on cases is paramount. We should’ve had you on the case three vics ago.”
Erwin sat up in the passenger seat, adjusting the collar of his blazer around the seatbelt. It wasn’t a necessary precaution for his kind, but human law dictated it was mandatory for all species to adhere to when in a vehicle. Apparently, catapulting through a windshield was something to avoid, regardless of how durable one was.
“You mentioned that your prior leads resulted in dead ends.”
“Yeah. We’ve tied suspects to each scene, but the hurtle we run into is finding the link to the other crimes. There’ve been no criteria for the victims being targeted. No pattern except the method.”
Mike pulled the SUV into the entrance of a posh gated community, rolling down the window to flash the guard on duty his badge. The uniformed man’s olive complexion looked wan as he hastily pressed the button to allow entry and avoid further hinderance. Erwin couldn’t imagine that it was every day that the lofty neighborhood was contaminated with a serial killer’s exhibit, nor the heavy presence of supranatural law enforcement being on the premises. The security guard appeared rightfully spooked.
“And even the method has started to become problematic to narrow down,” Mike resumed as they drove slowly into the pristine community, grey-washed with damp gloom. “From what Nanaba told me before I picked you up, is that this one is not much different than the last two vics. It seems our suspect is either evolving in their method or experimenting.”
Erwin withheld his growing questions as he took in the killer’s chosen backdrop. Like most gated communities, the sidewalks were lined with manicured lawns and mulched horticulture islands leading to extravagant houses. The stucco masonry walls that bordered the campus-like premises attracted people with the heightened security and luxury of upscale residences. Unlike other gated communities that simply aimed for quiet and order, the current sought to meet most of the residents’ recreational needs with tennis courts, a private golf course, and Olympic size pool.
“Is this a segregated community?” Erwin found himself questioning, punctuated by a frown that he even had to ask.
After supras broadcasted their existence and joined mortal society, fear-stricken humans had flocked to gated communities for safety of mind. As if the eight-foot wall was enough to keep vampires, wolvens, and reapers at bay. Not all communities were chauvinistic, and many had updated HOA policies to cater to supras, however there were far too many segregated residences in existence in Erwin’s opinion. Even if it went the other way.
“Yes,” Mike answered tersely. “This one is humans only, but I haven’t reviewed the policy to know just how strict it is. Some segregated communities allow wolvens as pets. Nanaba was first on the scene, so I’m sure she’ll know.”
“Hm. A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
A grunt, almost a curt growl rumbled in Mike’s throat. Under his breath, he muttered, “Don’t get me started.”
The SUV banked onto another street in the concrete labyrinth. Just as the wipers cleared the watery veil, it exposed the blocked road with a barricade of official vehicles. Two local Arlington police cars were parked on either end with lights flashing, as if a beacon to the neighbors. Like moths to a porch lamp, a swath of umbrellas gathered on lawns and sidewalks of nosy tenants trying to garner what information they could from the scandal; vultures searching for any juicy details to gloat over during their next dinner party, no doubt. Scattered amongst the crowd were a few cops prodding for their own answers in return.
As the vehicle crept closer to the hovering mob outside the police line, Mike flipped a switch, activating the red and blue led lights in the grill. Like a boulder in a stream, the tenants parted around the car, granting room to park along the sidewalk. The ignition turned off as Mike leaned between the seats to grab his coat from the back while Erwin slid his gaze over curious bystanders.
Despite the window tint being too dark for anyone to peak in, it didn’t erase the feeling of being stuck inside a fishbowl. Not too far from the bumper, a portly woman irately questioned a local officer in charge of crowd control, gesturing wildly with her free hand that was unoccupied by the umbrella. As he observed, Erwin noticed the way she checked her watch and rolled her eyes at whatever the man responded with, likely disgruntled by the lack of haste being implemented in clearing the scene.
“Must be the community manager,” Mike speculated as he slipped his arms through the jacket, puffing out the emblem on the sleeve with his affiliation.
The embroidered badge unfolded into view with the navy shield outlined in a crisp white and gold border. Vibrant yellow lettering announced Mike was associated with the Gleaning Society of Investigation Services with an irregular 5-point star above a red and white banner. The inner emblem was encircled by a silver Ouroboros snake with two olive branches on either side: a subtle similarity with their human-affiliated FBI counterparts.
“Ready to get an earful about how we’re impeding on their oh-so fabulous reputation, all while getting soaked?”
The corner of Erwin’s lip twitched, his hand finding the doorlatch. “Let’s see what you’ve been working with.”
The brisk air was an expected, yet undesirable introduction after leaving the heated seats. Rain pelted against him, quickly finding its way down the collar of his shirt, though he refused to flinch at the discomfort. Unhurriedly, he put on his own long jacket, foregoing any umbrella as he’d be needing both of his hands and freedom of movement. Following Mike through the crowd, they flashed their badges at the local officer who let them pass, seeming momentarily grateful for the distraction from the harping manager.
They had successfully managed to reach the sidewalk on the other side of the police vehicle when the woman realized who they were and called out for their attention.
“Excuse me—Excuse me,” the sharp enunciation was barren of politeness.
Erwin was content to ignore her after he caught sight of the pop-up tent between two homes and Nanaba’s familiar face, but reluctantly stopped when Mike turned to the manager.
No victory in solidarity.
“Yes, ma’am?” Mike inquired neutrally, a perfect representation of his position.
The woman’s plump cheeks were ruddy, and her frizzing hair did her frustrations little justice. She was staring directly at Erwin, despite Mike being the one to engage. It didn’t surprise either supra who were rather used to the typical treatment. Either because the other party knew what each of the two men were or because of the way Erwin presented himself with his dapper suits.
In the current instance, Erwin was betting on the latter.
“Are you in charge here? The officer said jurisdiction has yet to be determined, is that true? I’d have thought something so simple would be hashed out by now. It’s been three hours since the man was discovered. I’ve already told multiple people here that the person is not a member of the community and had no business being here. I’d like this resolved quickly so my tenants can return to their homes.”
Mike and Erwin exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them.
Erwin arched a brow: Don’t expect me to handle this.
Mike’s gaze squinted. Come on, I do this all the time.
A facial shrug before looking away, You’re the Special Agent. I’m just a consultant.
Mike schooled his features and addressed the woman while Erwin turned his back on her to focus on his surroundings. His hands found their way into his pockets as Mike promised the manager that the scene would be cleared up as soon as possible, and how he understood the inconvenience it caused the residents. It was the usual hollow promises that were handed out to the angry living who were too inconsiderate of the dead. Enough to appease so they could work with a semblance of quiet. When he was done with his spiel, the pair continued marching toward the cul-de-sac where the rest of the unit was bustling around.
The blue tent branded with the GSIS badge was situated between two homes. It was partially on the concrete pad of one’s driveway which was large enough to park four vehicles wide. The rest was across the lawn that covered property boundaries with a disfigured body heaped in the center. The improvised shelter to conserve crucial evidence was likely erected too late to be effective, seeing as it had rained most of the night and into the morning. Anything washed off may have collected onto the concrete, but the lawn was less promising. Soil was a hungry substance, and the porous layers had a way of absorbing micro-trace evidence almost too effectively.
As they got closer, Erwin was pleased to find that the scene was quiet. There were no whispering voices tugging on his ear for attention. The soul of the unfortunate man had at least moved on, leaving merely a stain of fear in the shell of his body that would eventually decay. He envied those reapers that weren’t so attuned to the residue of souls who hadn’t fully transitioned into the Netherworld. It could cause some nasty headaches when the voices grew too needy, interrupting his ability to think.
“Hey, you,” a statuesque woman greeted, wearing a matching jacket as Mike. A sunny smile broke free as she flipped a stray wisp of her short, honeyed hair from her face. “Mike managed to get you here without crashing, I see.”
“He may have run a red light on the way here,” Erwin returned a tender smile, stopping just under the awning.
Mike huffed, hitting his arm in mild retaliation. “Did not.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Nanaba ignored Mike’s denial while shaking her head. She handed a box of latex gloves to the men. “Let me introduce you to our recent victim, Lucas Bartel. 42-year-old with a wife and no children. Verified with the manager that he’s not part of the Crestwind Cove Community, and his license has an address in Maple Valley. Not Arlington. He worked as an accountant as a Credit Union there.”
“That’s what?” Mike replied, running a brief calculation in his head, “A little over an hour drive away? Any chance he was visiting someone here, and things took a turn?”
Erwin listened as he slipped into the gloves, finding only a little difficulty given the damp skin.
Nanaba shook her head again. “So far? Not looking like it. I sent Jean and Eren to canvas the neighbors and nearby streets to verify. They should be finishing up shortly. Haven’t heard if they found anything yet.”
Erwin stepped closer to the body, careful to avoid the tiny yellow tents marking evidence. The victim in question was lying partially on his back with his hips canted to the side. His right arm had a compound fracture where the jagged humerus punctured through the bicep. Rusty blood tarnished the white polo where parts of the fabric had been shredded, with the largest stains secreting around the collar and abdomen. The most pronounced mutilation was the butchered throat, a mangle of pearly bands, yellowish ligaments, and curdy torn muscle. A closer look hinted to pale calcium beneath the congealed blood, possibly vertebrae. Each of the limbs were sporting vicious imprints of unmistakable bite marks that could only be done by an animal or beast. A werewolf variant, most likely, if Mike and Nanaba’s suspicions were correct.
“The manager mentioned jurisdiction hasn’t been confirmed,” Mike ventured.
Erwin peeked at the team leader who seemed annoyed by the reminder.
“No. Arlington’s Police Chief is holding onto this tight,” she huffed. “He mentioned he’d try to get custody of the body by calling Division Director Shadis, but I don’t think he’s gotten through to him yet. Shadis was due for a meeting this morning, last I heard. That’s why we haven’t done much but preserve the scene and canvas.”
“Did Moblit already have a look?” Mike asked as he circled the body while giving Erwin space to observe.
“He did. Already got what he could from the scene along with the forensics team,” Nanaba opened her notebook to a scribbled page. “He’s in agreement that Mr. Bartel was killed elsewhere and dumped here.”
A cursory glance at the diluted blood streaking down the driveway confirmed there was not enough present for the level of brutality inflicted.
“Dumped between these two homes?” Mike glanced around the cul-de-sac, trying to determine what was special about it. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were tired of carrying him and just left him behind.”
Erwin mirrored Mike, scrutinizing the corner of the community. The back of the homes butted up to a hedgerow that was part of the private golf course. “Did you inquire about home security cameras? See if anyone caught movement during the night?”
Nanaba nodded. “Already did. You’ll be surprised to hear that very few tenants had additional security installed. Apparently, they trusted the community’s system that’s in place as they’ve never even had a break-in before. The few that had additional measures didn’t capture anything, nor did the gate cameras. Moblit estimated the time of death to be around 1:30 in the morning and there was no activity of anyone on the street or coming and going from the premises until 4:30 this morning. And that was just someone going to work.”
Erwin gestured to the hedgerows. “I’d estimate they came from over there. A golf course has fewer cameras, meaning more blind spots, not to mention its easier access to get a body over shrubs than the walls. Your suspect likely didn’t intend to get Mr. Bartel much further than this, if you’re sure it’s the same killer.”
Mike looked at Nanaba whose expression was bleak. “Yeah. I’m certain it’s the same person.”
Neither had the chance to reply as three figures headed up the driveway to them. Each wore official GSIS attire, but otherwise looked unassumingly human. On the other hand, the adult of the trio with russet mused hair was technically still human, last Erwin had checked. He had a feeling one day that would change.
“Erwin,” he greeted over the discussion of the two younger team members behind him. Then again, said duo were technically twice his age. “Been a while. How’ve you been?”
Erwin stood and retracted himself from the crime scene to politely shake his hand. “I’ve been well. It’s good to see you, Moblit. How’s life in the lab? I hope your partner isn’t working you to death.”
Nanaba snickered quietly at the unintentional reaper-pun. She always had an elementary level of dark humor.
“It’s been busy lately. But I’m sure that’s obvious seeing as you’ve been called here.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Hey, Mr. Smith!” interjected one of the young men. He gave a toothy grin as he lifted a hand in the air in a short wave. “Didn’t know you’d be working the case with us. We’ll have this wrapped up in no time now.”
“You give me too much credit, Eren.” He dragged his gaze to the third newcomer and gave a nod. “Jean. Glad to see you two getting along better.”
Behind him, he heard Mike scoff, but the two men in question ignored it. Their eyerolls were enough confirmation that the peace between Eren and Jean was only temporary.
“Well, someone needs to be mature around here,” Jean’s retort came as he raked a hand through his ash-brown hair, slicked back from the rain.
Eren shot him a dirty side-eye, but Nanaba interrupted any brewing argument from her team. “What did you two find out?”
Eren and Jean stared at each other a beat longer before sighing. The brunet with his hair tied into a bun started to debrief their canvasing efforts.
“Nothing. No one has seen him before, including being in the neighborhood to meet someone else. Checked the vehicle he had registered under his name, and we didn’t see it parked anywhere on the streets. If the local officers found something different in their questioning, they aren’t sharing with us. Stingy assholes.”
“Great.” Nanaba turned toward Erwin, frustration evident in her slumped shoulders. “This is the sort of crap we’ve been dealing with. Everything is so random that we can’t nail a solid trail down.”
Her frustrations were palpable, and he could sense the hidden embarrassment beneath her tone. Through her own admission, and Mike's, he knew Nanaba still had doubts of leading the unit after Erwin had extracted himself from being an active special agent. Regardless of the case, he stood by his decision of naming her his replacement. The last thing he wanted was for Nanaba to be discouraged.
“Alright,” Erwin skimmed the body, finding the determination to help where he could. He switched out his glove that he used to shake Moblit’s hand and crouched beside Mr. Bartel. “Give me a rundown of everything.”
“They’re calling the killer The Cascade Butcher. So far, all the bodies have shown up in public areas, but were killed elsewhere,” she started to summarize. “There’s been no preference to the victim profile, either. Men, woman, older, middle aged, young. Hell, we’ve had one vampire, two wolvens, and—Mr. Bartel here—makes five humans. Each one shows signs of mauling from a wolven variant. We estimate our suspect is Loup-garou and not Lycanthrope based on the size of the jaws. But whoever has been killing them has been smart to not leave any strands of hair or fur behind. Seems like an impossible feat even for the most careful.”
The four-legged Loup-garou or bipedal Lycanthrope... both werewolf subspecies were known for thick fur.
Moblit took the time to add his assessment. “We’ve tried collecting dental records, but the prior cases had too much shredding actions in the muscle to really show clear imprints. Almost as if the wolven bit down and dragged the victim by their limbs. What’s puzzling is the last two victims and Mr. Bartel here, have evocation seals tattooed into them before their time of death. I’ve not figured out how to distinguish the meaning behind those...”
Mike shuffled closer and met Erwin’s gaze. “Nana said you’ve studied seals and sigils before. She told Shadis and that’s when he broke down and called you in for consultation. He said he wanted your opinion on the meaning behind it and see if you can build a profile to help minimize suspects.”
Erwin felt his lips thin as he tried not to frown. Sigils and evocation circles were not his area of expertise, merely something he’d been an autodidact toward. Regardless of his age, he prided himself on being a forever student, taking the initiative to teach himself new subjects. It helped to pass the time.
“I’ve lightly researched runes and seals,” he corrected, “but my grasp on the deeper concepts and integral details are shaky at best. Anything I can offer is speculation. However,... the tattoo method is uncommon. They chose a permanent application when paint would’ve sufficed, especially if they were going to kill the victim regardless.”
Moblit seemed eager to encourage Erwin further as he shoved his hand into a new latex glove and knelt on the other side of the body. “The latest three victims had their tattoos applied hours before their death. Each one indicated healing and clotting had occurred, which leads us to believe they were captured and held somewhere against their will before disposal.”
“We’ve already questioned numerous tattoo parlors to see if the victims stopped there as a possible link, but had no luck,” Nanaba added. “Thus, we’ve concluded it had to be the killer applying the artwork.”
Mike was quick to insert his piece of information following the team leader. “When we spoke with the family of the first victim--who had the seal in addition to the mauling, they swore they didn’t know where he got it done at. The second vic’s family said she never believed or had anything to do with the occult. Stated that she was raised Catholic and attended church regularly. She never would’ve consciously gotten a tattoo, let alone something like that.”
“Exactly,” Moblit continued, “but even though the method was similar in the three, the killer made the effort to keep some variation between each person. The first had a tattoo above his heart. The second was in the center of her chest, and this one,” he gingerly lifted the hem of the tattered polo to reveal the bloodied abdomen, “is across his stomach.”
Erwin leaned closer, peering under the tented shirt to catch a glimpse of the full symbol. The circle was shaky, uneven, and some blackened lines were thicker in places. Signs of struggle were evident, particularly where fragments of the pattern looked too deep below the dermis layer to be considered proper application. Gooey scabs had formed over the ink, texturizing it into a bumpy mess.
“So, the last three victims have seals, but the other five did not. That’s why you suspect the killer is experimenting with their modus operandi. Evolving or finding what feels right,” Erwin abridged. He eyed the sigil and runes a moment longer, gathering his thoughts and flicking through his internal library. “The seals could simply be used for the purpose of scare tactics. There’s some knowledge that went into the making of this. It wasn’t just an amateur slapping together symbols. There’s somewhat correct placement as if they were trying, or mockingly attempting, to seal something in place. How bad were the other bodies mutilated?”
Moblit predictably answered due to being the coroner who was intimately acquainted with the victims’ bodies. “Very similar to this, although I’d say Mr. Bartel was subjected to more violent bites. The others hadn’t sustained any broken bones, but all their throats were completely torn to the point of the vic’s head nearly being severed.”
Erwin was about to ask another question when he caught sight of a local police officer making his way to the scene. It appeared like he was listening as he got within hearing range but was polite not to interrupt.
Eren, unaware of their tag-along behind him, offered his speculation amongst the veteran members, “Is there still a possibility that it’s a different killer? Obviously, this victim sustained more injuries than the others. The seal aside, it could be a coincidence, or maybe a crime of passion?”
“Like what?” Jean contemplated, though his narrowed gaze was enough to display his skepticism. “Like a jilted lover? Betrayed family member? Maybe someone in this posh neighborhood was pissed he messed up their finances? That doesn’t seem to fit even if we ignored the other crimes. I’m still leaning toward this being a feral wolven attack. Whoever it might be, could just be throwing the seals in to keep us guessing. Madness has a way of bouncing from awareness to rabid behavior.”
Mike shot Jean an unamused frown. “Wolvens usually eat a part of what they kill. Either in the belief they’ll gain strength or out of respect... Or disrespect.” He shrugged. “The circumstances for ignoring those instincts has to be rare or very unusual, though.”
“Wouldn’t you classify mauling the victims’ throats as being eaten?”
Moblit answered before Mike. “No. I’d venture mutilated, certainly, but most of the... parts,” he censored, “are still in place and not devoured. Just tattered.”
Jean made a face, eyeing Eren and Mike as he considered their counterargument. “Do, uh, wolvens even eat part of their own kind if they kill them?”
Mike tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not usually, but there’s exceptions.”
The human officer lingering nearby visibly paled. Erwin imagined he was regretting eavesdropping on the GSIS conversation right about now. “Li-like cannibalism?”
Mike gave the stranger a look, not bothered by his presence, “As I said, there’s exceptions.”
Erwin shifted his attention to the body in front of him. “You mentioned one of the victims was Catholic. Were any others sharing the same belief?”
“No,” Nanaba answered. “Some were religious, others weren’t. There was a human that was a Buddhist.”
So, again, no pattern.
Erwin was beginning to see the plethora of dead ends to the case. A killer without a visible pathology, nor criteria for victims. It was known that serial killers were difficult to discover initially due to them working out their own requirements in victims to satisfy their urges. Some may have an idea of who they wanted to dominate based on species, age, or gender, but until a pattern could be established, law enforcement were grasping at straws. There was something that had to link the victims together aside from simple sadism. If not, they may have difficulty preventing another murder. But eight deaths should’ve shown some sort of connection by now.
“How long since these started?”
“Wow,” Nanaba was unimpressed with his question, “You’ve really been busy if you’ve not heard about any of this on the news.”
“My other responsibilities are rather consistent, Nana,” he reminded, a tad defensively. “The Registry’s been sending me all over the place for gleanings lately. Even my consultation assignments have taken the backseat.”
“Sure. Sure. Big shot juggling two different lives. Never did learn to relax and kick up your feet once in a while.”
Despite her dismissal, he took comfort that she knew the obligation of a reaper was not a subject to take lightly. Nanaba was simply a full-time Special Agent, therefore excused from gleaning assignments that their kind were usually tasked with. If Erwin’s disposition allowed him to feel the remorse as other species, he’d be envious of Nanaba’s exclusion from reaping souls to maintain natural balance. However, it was undeniably ingrained in their nature, just as predators had prey drive intertwined with their instincts to give chase of a fleeing creature.
Mike pulled the reapers back on topic with the belated answer, “Eight deaths in four months. Again, no definitive MO in victim profiles aside from the mutilation as cause of death, all organs intact, and displayed in a public setting at night. Usually kneeling, bowing, or laying on their back.”
Erwin constructed the settings of the earlier corpses in his mind with that new piece of information. “All of those are arrangements of asking for forgiveness, each in a body language that is specific to a species.”
Nanaba stepped closer to Erwin until she was just behind him. “That’s what we started to piece together ourselves. Praying for humans, bowing to vampires and reapers, and exposed stomachs for wolvens.”
“So, they arrange the bodies to seek forgiveness but tear their throats out nonetheless,” Erwin pondered aloud. “A dismissal. The killer is rebuking the apology, but on whose behalf?”
Mike sighed, “Because the killer doesn’t prefer a certain species, and seemed to address all at some point in the displays, that’s been another question left unanswered. Also, there’s no signs of rape, which means no sexual deviance as a motive. And nothing missing off their persons, so that rules out robbery.”
“Seems extreme even if it was robbery,” Erwin conceded.
“Especially eight bodies in a row.”
Erwin shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, glancing at Mike as he twisted his body to the side. “What have you checked so far between the vics? Work, children’s schools or after class programs they may share together, maybe old neighborhoods?”
“Yes. And nothing’s showing any correlation.”
“So, you’re speculating it’s all by convenience. Hunter going after easy, unsuspecting prey.”
“That’s the only theory we have right now. At least until those last two, and now three, bodies that have occult circles tattooed. That made us question if there’s a purpose we’re missing after all.”
“It’s curious why they’d change it. No seals, at first. Then three, somewhat rushed, seals tattooed into the vics. And no missing organs on top of it.”
“Yeah, and PETA-W started having a field day after that. Saying that this was not the work of a loose unregistered wolven attack but witchcraft making it look like it.”
Erwin huffed at the brash estimation. “Alchemist and witches are nearly nonexistent nowadays. The few that are around don’t have the proper hardware in their mouths to do this damage,” he gestured to the missing throat.
“You know how it is. When PETA-W gets traction under a movement, there’s no talking them down,” Mike waved off.
“PETA-W... You know,” Jean looked thoughtfully to Mike. “I’ve always wondered your opinion on that organization. Is it flattering to know that People of the Ethical Treatment of Animals and Wolvens included your kind as such? Fixating on your beast side more than human? Or is it offensive?”
Eren glared at Jean. “What? You ask Zacharias if he’s offended but not me? Did you forget what I am?”
“It’s hard to forget when my allergies act up as soon as you walk in the door. You should bathe more. Maybe try a hypoallergenic shampoo. I know a good dog groomer.”
“Shut the fuck up. Maybe do something to get that big horse nose fixed and it won’t be a problem. Plastic surgery these days can do incredible things.”
“Will you stop calling me that? I’m a Reaper, not some shifting beast. Besides I wasn’t talking to you and once again you’re inserting yourself where you’re not wanted.”
Unbothered by their squabbling, or likely desensitized at this point, Mike seemed to mull the original question over before he shrugged, scratching at his stubble.
“I guess it depends. If they aren’t being complete wackos rioting and breaking into shelters, and instead trying to be productive members of society to better my community, then I don’t care. I know others that find it a slap in the face to be grouped with animals, but that’s the world we live in right now. Change doesn’t happen overnight.”
No. Erwin could agree with that. It wasn’t the first time he wished whatever inspired higher intelligence would pick up its feet and see wolvens as more than just second-class citizens or pets, all because of their shapeshifting abilities. But when centuries of fear, religious scrupulosity, and prejudice were against your kind, it was an uphill battle. Sisyphus would sympathize well with the struggle.
Still, turning back to the corpse, Erwin’s interest was piqued.
“Hey!”
A new voice interrupted their discussion, causing the group to shift their attention to the approaching sergeant striding up the driveway. He was a lean man with a pitted face from years of acne, though tried to distract from it with the stereotypical thick mustache. The officer was glaring at the cop standing beside Jean, who Erwin inferred was his subordinate.
“I told you to watch them—not socialize,” then to Mike and Nanaba, he snapped, “If you’re going to lurk around until we have the official word on whose case this is, then fine. But don’t contaminate the body while you’re here!”
“Sir,” Nanaba spoke up, squaring her stance to face him completely. She was shy a few inches from matching the sergeant’s height but there was something about being a reaper that had a way of enlarging their presence. Erwin could see it in the way the man shrunk back the slightest in his posture. “We’ve taken the same liberties as your own forensics team and have not violated any protocol. Until jurisdiction is decided, we’re in our right to take necessary documentation that’s time sensitive until a decision is reached.”
“If the case is going to be ours, I don’t need a bunch of goddamn Abnormals getting their fur or whatever else on the body. Just keep your scythes and paws off it until we get the final word.”
An uncomfortable bubble seemed to engulf the pop-up tent as the GSIS members stiffened. While none of them were overly sensitive to crude language, the dated term Abnormals was not appreciated. The tension felt like the brittle iridescent film could burst at any moment, leading to a disagreement between agencies. That was the last thing they needed at a place like Crestwind Cove. Privileged humans witnessing supras arguing with local police. It’d only encourage their guarded behavior and the media would feast on the story for days.
The sergeant must’ve realized his faux pas because he straightened his posture and clamped his fists tight at his sides, preparing for retaliation. Erwin rose steadily from his position and stood beside Nanaba, allowing his gaze to bore into the officer’s.
“Sir,” he said cordially, though he was sure the sincerity failed to reach his eyes, “whilst I appreciate there’s some tension between your precinct and GSIS, I must ask that we be civil. We’re here to try and stop more people from dying, not to step on anyone’s toes. If you truly cannot stand our presence, I suggest you take it up with those in charge and not those in the same position of waiting as yourself.”
The sergeant’s mouth opened and closed, his expression torn between scorn and unwillingness. “And... who are you?”
“Erwin Smith. Active consultant to GSIS.”
“You’re a reaper too.”
It was a statement, but Erwin inclined his head and answered it, “That’s correct.”
According to the brass nametag, Officer Kramer was not entirely decided on which course of action he wanted to take after Erwin’s call for ceasefire. Of course, given the advantage in his favor, Erwin wasn’t keen to release his grip on it so soon.
“May I borrow your notebook?”
Kramer blinked, confused by the change of topic yet tentatively handed his over. Perhaps out of curiosity, or maybe because he didn’t see Erwin having one on his person. Either way, Erwin took it and returned to the body, aware but undeterred by the attention tracking him.
Flipping the ringed notepad open, he hovered it over a set of jaw marks that had broken the victim’s arm. It was the most promising of all the imprints if they could get any dental records, having imbedded enough to break bone. A crushing action more than tearing. Using the pen, Erwin drew an arching line that looked like it would thread to the teeth like string through pearls, matching the size and shape of the wolven’s muzzle. The mockup dimensions nearly took the entire page.
Returning to the officer, he fixed a disarming smile in place and lifted the pad between them. Kramer made to take the notebook, but Erwin retracted it at the last second. Confusion was overtaken by a simmering glare at the cat-mouse game, sharpening Erwin’s smile into something that hinted to condescending. Instead of handing it over, he held it next to the officer’s head, comparing the size of the mouth that could very well encompass the man’s skull between the molars.
Kramer shifted anxiously, bouncing his gaze from the notebook to Erwin and back. As he opened his mouth to question what the game was, Erwin passed the pad of paper over.
“Appreciate you letting me borrow it. I was simply curious if it was a mature wolven we were dealing with. Or, I should say you, as your office is fighting for jurisdiction, correct?”
Officer Kramer merely stared, holding the book in the narrow space between them. His gaze traced the arching line beneath his thumb as he listened to Erwin.
“If you want my advice on how to deal with the owner of those teeth, I’d start by scratching off the motive as food. There’s a deeper reason for the murders, and for all we know, it could simply be a new sport. An opportunistic sadist.”
Finally, Kramer sucked in a sharp breath and pocked the book. “Give me a moment,” was all that was muttered before he retreated to his squad vehicle in the street. The subordinate was hasty to follow on the man’s heels, leaving the team alone beneath their tent once more.
Nanaba sighed. “Not that I wish for murderers or pointless death, but it’d been nice if we were in Olympia city limits dealing with Pixis. The old goat at least has sense.”
“Pixis is still working as Chief?” Erwin inquired, his demeanor warming after his short-lived display. He’d known Pixis for decades. “Is he ever planning to retire?”
“Psh, not likely,” Nanaba grinned, jumping at the opportunity for gossip. “He just got married—again. To a vampire, I think?” She sent a searching glance to Mike for confirmation.
He gave a nod. “Yeah. Gotta give the man credit, he’s never shied away from interspecies relations. But it is his fifth wife—so there’s that.”
Erwin chuckled as he made a mental note to catch up with the old chief while working on the case.
“Moblit,” he turned the discussion back on topic. “Do you think the bite that broke his arm may be enough for dental records?”
“You noticed too? Honestly, I’m hoping Sasha can at least get some clear molar imprints from the bite. May even get some measurements between the spacing with the canines if it left any evidence on the humerus.”
“Who is Sasha?” Erwin asked.
“Oh. She’s our forensic odontologist. She’s new to the team—I think she started after your last job.”
Eren waved a hand irritably, “Either way, it won’t do us any good to check dental records if the local unit get the body.” He glanced at his watch then to Mike, “And Director Shadis isn’t set to leave his meeting for another 20 minutes.”
Mike opened his mouth to reply when Nanaba shushed him. “The sergeant is coming back.”
Sure enough, the man was marching up the driveway with less vigor than before. Deflated, if Erwin had to put a name to it.
“Alright,” Kramer said in way of broaching the discussion, “I talked to our boss, and he’s given the ok that he won’t fight on taking the lead. But he was clear that he wanted your office to keep ours informed on follow-ups and any other reports. If humans are involved, we want to assist where we can.”
“Humans,” Jean echoed with a frown. “Almost sounds like you think the supras that were murdered aren’t worth your time.”
The internal predisposition that caused Kramer to remain wary of Nanaba and Erwin did not extend to Jean, despite also being a reaper. Erwin suspected it was Kramer’s eyes overruling his lizard brain, seeing Jean’s youthful appearance as an adult barely stapled over teenage years, rather than the reaper who was actually pushing 90.
“No, don’t put words in my mouth,” Kramer scowled. “I’m saying that this is our community, and we deal with humans more than your kind. If you’re going to be in Arlington, then do us the courtesy of letting us know you’re poking about and if you have questions.”
Mike put a hand on Jean’s shoulder to keep him from retorting while Nanaba replied instead. “We’ll be sure to remember that. Thank you.”
The man grunted, eyeing the body once more then flicking his gaze to Erwin. He spoke to Nanaba even though he stared at the imposingly dressed reaper. “We’ll assist with crowd control until you get the scene clear. Let us know if you need anything.”
“We appreciate it,” she repeated and with that, Kramer turned on his heels and left.
Mike and Nanaba exchanged glances before shaking their heads at Erwin. Jean and Eren seemed stunned by the defeated sergeant.
“It’s nice having you around, Erwin,” a smug smirk curled her lips. “Usually, we wait until Shadis calls the local’s office to put whoever in their place before they back off.”
Moblit laughed. “That’s because these guys haven’t been exposed to Erwin’s games before.”
***
The following day, Erwin found himself back at the conspicuous facilities of GSIS.
The establishment was a stark contrast to the local law enforcement, where the four-story brownstone building was brimming with linoleum floors, concrete encased basement, and mundane chained evidence locker. Budget friendly alternatives stretched every inch of the building to the point where it was questionable if asbestos grew in the ceiling tiles. Alternatively, the polished federal structure of GSIS chose a different take on their architecture.
Steel beams supported against reinforced double-pane windows that were treated with a specialized tint to limit the glare from the interior. As a result of having easy access to fundraising, the federal building extended six-stories tall while teeming with the latest technology. As a supranatural agency, GSIS was fortunate in having a direct line with a community that thrived from extensive lifespans. Money flowed easier when their government and populace were smaller within the ocean that was humankind, and personal success was plentiful.
While Erwin could appreciate the sophistication and modern quality of architecture, it felt a bit too sterile at the same time. As if flaunting superiority over their human counterparts. The same agency who struggled to stretch the payroll to ensure appropriate coverage for manning and equipment. If he was a permanent employee with GSIS, he’d feel a tad disconcerted walking into the shiny glass structure every day.
The conference room bullpen, in the center of the 3rd floor in the west homicide department, held the closest ambiance he’d consider as homey. A few office succulents lined the window ledge like diligent sentries. Unintentional contributions of some former employees who had moved on with their careers, choosing not to stuff the potted decoration in their cardboard box before leaving. The room lacked the abusive white LED lights, having a warmer variant to ease the eyes when pouring over case files. For Nanaba’s team, it doubled as their breakroom despite the browbeating they received from the Director when he caught the hovering whiffs of local take-out and food truck contributions.
After clearing the scene the day prior, Bartel’s body was transported to Moblit’s medical examination room in the basement for an autopsy. Both he and Erwin were counting on the bite imprint on the arm being intact enough for a rough mold to gather dental records, or any extra information to go on. As a priority, Moblit was able to have the photos and template sent over to Sasha early that afternoon. The rest of the team continued pursuing their preliminary investigative leads to identify potential suspects.
Speaking to the victim’s wife and place of employment yielded little results. According to the grief-stricken widow, Bartel did little outside of work and home. An introvert at heart with the most socialization being the Credit Union’s annual Christmas party. When he hadn’t come home at the usual time, she assumed it was a meeting holding him back. He wasn’t the best at texting throughout the day, therefore she thought little of it. It wasn’t until around 8pm that she began to worry and realized something was wrong. She called him multiple times and then reported it to the police in hopes of answers. They began a preliminary search of his place of work, hospitals, churches, and shelters. Before they could start reviewing the CCTV footage, the report came in from Arlington precinct of potentially another victim of The Cascade Butcher.
Mike made a comment to Erwin that the victim’s phone was unaccounted for and missing from the scene. Also, they tried tracking it, but the latest ping they got off the records was near his place of work. Bartel’s colleagues and employer had little else to add during their interview except that there were no meetings after hours and everyone left the bank on time. As of now, 5pm was the last moment anyone saw Lucas Bartel. Even his car remained in the parking lot where CCTV failed to reach.
Thus, day two of the investigation had Erwin joining the team in the conference room, debriefing all the gathered information to Director Keith Shadis--whose frigid welcome to Erwin had set an undercutting tension amongst the members. It certainly didn’t help that the GSIS agents were accompanied by two forensic members, Nile and Marie, nor the surplus of dim sum take-out containers making home in the center of the long table.
Erwin chose to play ignorant to Shadis’ unsubtle attention and blame it on the smell of food filling the confined room. He told himself that those glares simply had nothing to do with any lingering hard feelings between them and more to do with Shadis’ aversion to good cuisine while working.
Sometimes, Erwin wondered if his attempts to lie to himself were a result of his inclination toward manipulation, or his effort at being optimistic. Hard to tell the difference these days.
“Tell me your impression of the community at Crestwind,” Shadis ordered after the initial brief finished.
Eren and Jean took the lead in giving their assessment of members interviewed.
“The consensus was that no one knew Bartel or seen him before. We checked security footage, home cameras, and canvased neighboring streets,” Jean summarized.
“The welcoming we received,” Eren continued, “was mixed. Some were cooperative and spoke easily with us, even when they had no information to give. But most others were very reluctant to talk. Either uncomfortable because they knew we’re supras, or it was the hesitancy to speak to enforcement officials.”
“And this was a human only community?” Shadis clarified. He stood at the head of the table where everyone was gathered around, staring at the whiteboard where a photo of the residential stone sign was displayed in the corner. The Director was a willowy man whose absent head of hair was compensated by his care of the precisely groomed goatee. The sunken shadows beneath his eyes gave the old reaper a skeletal appearance, though his strength beneath the lean frame was nothing to dismiss so easily.
Mike barked what could have been an aborted laugh. He plucked a pamphlet from beneath a close-up photo of a yellow tent marking evidence.
“You want to hear their sales pitch, sir?” Mike flipped to the opening page and read the exert. “Crestwind Cove is a secluded housing enclave that is exclusive to well-heeled folks who value the privacy afforded by abundant landscaping, onsite recreation, and private security with armed guards patrolling the neighborhood around the clock.”
Nanaba snorted, “That’s a fancy way of saying uptight, holier-than-thou pricks.”
Shadis ignored his senior members, shifting his focus to the map with red magnetic pins indicating the locations of murders. The eight markers were tucked between Puget Sound and west of the Cascade Mountain range, dissipated throughout high-density urban areas. “Where are we with the trace-evidence?”
Nile scratched at his widow’s peak as he lay an arm across the table. “Unfortunately, nothing substantial. The hair on the vic’s clothes belonged to his wife and--I’m guessing they have a cat?”
“They do,” Jean confirmed.
“Well,” he splayed his palms up, “cats can be assholes, but I doubt it killed him. We’re still working on a few other samples; however, it’s looking like it won’t offer avenues in way of leads. The rain really did a number on the scene.”
Marie was quick to insert her bit to the discussion, “We found a leaf from a rhododendron in one of his wounds. When we traced it at the scene, we found a plant in the golf course’s parking lot that had blood smeared on a branch. We suspect that’s likely where they removed Bartel from the vehicle to dispose of him in the neighborhood.”
Her gaze moved across the table, capturing Erwin’s and anchoring it in place. He didn’t flinch under the attention of his ex, merely held it with a level of patience that never weakened since their separation. Her lips tugged upwards in a gentle smile as her attention didn’t waver from his. He felt his own answering smirk itch to reveal itself, especially when he sensed Nile’s attentive gaze pinning him with scrutiny.
But he refrained from antagonizing his old friend by acknowledging him, or the subtle attraction that refused to die between Erwin and Marie. At least, to not outwardly acknowledge it.
“We have fibers that we’re reviewing and will get back to you after the results are in,” she finished. “We’re also searching his vehicle for evidence in case anyone else had ridden in his car aside from him and his wife.”
Shadis nodded to show he heard as he turned to face the table’s occupants.
“Very well,” he answered. “Let me know what you find after the results are in.”
Nile and Marie recognized the dismissal, standing to leave before Jean offered them more food, which they politely declined.
“No, thank you,” Nile’s hand found its way to the low of Marie’s back, a few inches beneath her wavy locks, “We have dinner plans already. Wouldn’t want to spoil our appetite.”
“Oh, gotcha,” Jean grinned, tossing in what he probably thought was suave wink. “Alright, hope you two have fun.”
Nile’s sly grin mirrored his amusement. “Always do. See you all tomorrow.”
“See you.”
“Bye.”
Erwin pointedly did not watch the pair leave, feigning distraction with a photo of another victim’s hand missing a finger from a bite. It was difficult to concentrate completely on the image with Mike’s weighted stare locked onto his profile beside him.
“If it hasn’t been done yet,” he started, capitalizing on the quiet to put distance from his failed love life, “I suggest looking into possible bus or train routes. Also, I know it’s been done already, but I’d still like to review all the victims’ bank statements to see if there were similar places they may have visited. Something like restaurants or movies where the killer may pick their targets. Even pharmacies. Another avenue we can check are flyers in mailboxes for events that the victims received.”
Nanaba leaned across the table to pluck out a fluffy char siu bao. Tearing it open, steam from the inside sifted between her fingers. “Sure, we can email you the records, but we haven’t found anything that stood out. It won’t hurt to have fresh eyes take another look. Tomorrow, we’ll ask the families about the flyers though.”
A knock on the conference door interrupted them followed by Shadis’ gruff order to enter. Moblit stepped inside and shut it behind him, holding a thin file in hand. His eyes were wide with his breathing elevated just above normal.
“We got a match.”
Simultaneously, everyone in the room perked up while Shadis wordless held out a hand for papers. While Shadis reviewed the report, Moblit translated it to the rest of the team.
“There was just enough imprint of canines and molars to distinguish the wear patterns and angles of the bite. The mold wasn’t enough for a full ID, and we needed to get an x-ray, but fortunately the result came back as one Julian Walsh. A hybrid wolven; Loup-garou variant. His mother was human.”
“No way,” Jean mumbled around a bite of food, having taken Nanaba’s que that it was safe to eat in front of Shadis. “We actually have a name for our killer?”
Moblit’s face fell, and judging by the ladder of wrinkles deepening across the Director’s brow, it wasn’t so simple.
“That’s what’s weird,” Moblit drawled as his excitement dampened to confusion. “According to the records, he’s supposed to have died six months ago. Being a hybrid, his lifespan is shorter, obviously, so his death certificate showed he was 253 when he passed. Prior to that, he retired from his job at the University of Washington as a professor for the Biology of Supra Studies Department, and he volunteered at the museum in his free time as a lecturer. According to his death records, his body was supposed to be donated to the university for research into hybrid medicine.”
“The first thing we need to do,” Shadis declared, “is verify what happened to his body. Make sure this isn’t some forged certificate, and we have a loose hybrid running freely thinking he’s invisible now.”
“Make sure?” Eren parroted. “Well, it’s got to be fake, right? You make it sound like it’s possible for someone dead to be committing these crimes.”
Erwin, who was mulling over the new morsel of information, had to school his features when Nanaba’s gaze landed on him. He considered ignoring her, but knew it was a pointless endeavor. She was going to corner him eventually and ask the dreaded question he knew was coming.
Thankfully, after Shadis gave his opinion and orders, conveniently avoiding Eren’s inquiry, the Director left the team to it. His exit was punctuated by the demand to clean the room thoroughly and take all trash out of the building with no opportunity for excuses. Seeing as there was no longer a reluctant boss as a buffer nor ex-fiancé, Erwin found himself feeling exposed to the upcoming conversation.
“What’s on your mind, Nana,” he asked, beating her to it and claiming the advantage.
She stared at him for a beat longer, contemplating how to broach the topic. It was pointless when he had already anticipated it.
“If this Julian Walsh suspect is confirmed to be dead...” she paused, as if making sure she had chosen her words carefully, “you know what Shadis will ask you.”
Indeed, Erwin did know. And he was certain his annoyance was unveiled across his face because Nanaba was quick to amend.
“Obviously, you didn’t do anything, but the question still remains whether someone could.”
“Could? Could what?” Jean asked, naturally intrigued by the unspoken details.
Even while pushing past most humans’ lifespans in age, both Jean and Eren were considered youthful members of supra society compared to Mike, Erwin, and Nanaba. As such, Erwin had to remind himself that despite being a fellow reaper, there were many things Jean was unaware of.
Erwin sat back in the chair, folding one leg over the other, and lacing his hands together in his lap. His posture remained upright, yet comfortable, despite the topic of discussion they were treading into.
“Could someone successfully be reanimated after death?” he regaled the question thoughtfully, as if it wasn’t personal and simply friendly speculation. “Necromancy is exceedingly rare. However, for someone to not only have the ability, but be powerful enough to reanimate a wolven corpse and let it rampage freely? As far as I’m aware, that would require older, potent soul energy that died out in the early 17th century.”
Mostly died out, he left unsaid. He didn’t need to vocalize it for Nanaba. She had been one of his longest friends these centuries, meaning she already knew it wasn’t as extinct as many would believe. He allowed his opinion to trail off, anticipating that it would be the end of the discussion. Sadly, Mike was oblivious to the signs.
“Wait, Necromancy? Like bringing the dead to life? Reapers can do that? Why am I only learning this now?”
“Because it’s not so simple, and not that straightforward,” Nanaba explained. She looked at Erwin who saw the pause for what it was. For him to have to room to explain.
Reluctantly, he conceded, taking on a detached academic approach to the subject that seemed to stick to him like a parasite.
“As you’re aware, Reaper abilities all share commonality with harvesting souls and sending them to the afterlife to maintain natural order. However, not all souls are intact when they move on, nor are all reapers limited in their intrinsic abilities. Some can manifest their power, used to extract a soul, by translating their potential energy into kinetic energy.”
Eren held up a hand, involuntarily giving Erwin a sense of being an instructor. “You’re saying they can do what exactly? Potential and kinetic; I thought those were opposites of action.”
“Not necessarily. One is simply the energy of what can be, and one is the energy of what is. The power within a reaper is stagnant until it is generated into an action—in this case, a forceful push outward can shove an opponent away. Others have shown capabilities to craft the output in a way to manipulate—not to be confused with generate—elements or... souls in other ways.”
“Liking bringing a soul back to their body?”
“Like bringing a soul back to their body,” he confirmed in a flat echo. “Nevertheless, it only occurs for a short time. The Netherworld and its hold on spirits is an unbreakable clutch. One can only tug for so long before the soul is inevitably dragged back to its depths. What people usually associate with necromancy came from witches in the dark ages. And even then, there were far too few that could replicate what the reapers accomplished, let alone hold the soul longer. The myth and lore surrounding necromancy has been greatly exaggerated throughout the centuries, when in reality, it’s not a genuine threat. Regardless, most continue to fear it as an unholy ability.”
“Eh,” Jean pushed his paper plate away so he could lean his elbows on the table, “it’s not like we’re strangers to being the monsters in stories before the Treaty. If anything, having necromancy abilities seems like an advantage to GSIS. Pop the soul back into the body and find our answers straight from the source--”
“It’s an outlawed practice,” Erwin interrupted.
Jean’s brows furrowed as he exchanged a wary glance at Eren for support. The wolven was tentative as he added onto Jean’s inquiry.
“Why? Finding the truth from the victim could save time, resources, and freaken lives. It doesn’t make sense to ban someone’s ability that could help others. That’s our entire job description... Let me guess,” Eren’s gaze hardened at the edges, “It’s the human government having a hissy fit over it again, right? No offense, Moblit.”
"None taken," he waved off.
Erwin considered them before dragging a perfunctory glance around the table. When his gaze circled the room, it anchored onto Eren and Jean again. “Unfortunately, not. The SRC passed the law that any Supra with the ability to manipulate souls was to cease in the practice indefinitely.”
Hearing the SRC was responsible, Eren and Jean visibly stiffened before simultaneously deflating into their seats.
The U.S. Supra Regulatory Commission was their own kind’s government that oversaw rules which varied between leniently servile to despotically harsh, depending on who and what the law was aimed at. Where the Supreme Court and justice system for humans spent mountains of resources for due-processing criminals, it was a different story with the SRC who delt with near immortals.
Death sentences came quick to those who threatened peace between humans and Supras, at least, where most cases were concerned with radical rogues. To many, three or more centuries in confinement would be considered a worse sentence than death. As for the various rumors that gleaning assignments for reapers reflected troublesome citizens, it was likely a story one told to their children at bedtime.
Don’t kill your neighbor. Don’t feed on another without consent. Don't play with souls... Because if you do, the big bad reaper will come get you.
“I still don’t understand,” Eren continued. “It could save lives.”
It was Nanaba that took the reins in explaining, much to Erwin’s appreciation, and mild distraction.
“The reason is because of how inhumane it is. Think about it. You bring a traumatized soul back into their body to question them about the horrible events that they remember last. In the case of the Cascade Butcher’s victims, their throats were ripped open and their bodies mutilated. All that pain will be felt, and they’ll be absolutely panicked. You won’t get anything useful from them, just as whatever information you gather from an interrogation won’t necessarily hold in a trial if they were under duress. Not to mention that the soul will feel like they’re being split in half between being held in their body and being pulled back into the Netherworld.”
“Damn,” Eren scratched at the back of his hair, musing the stray locks that had fallen from his bun. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
“Most don’t,” Erwin reassured. “It’s not a method for the squeamish, nor the empathetic. There’s a cruel stigma to necromancy for a reason.”
“Regardless, you make a good point, Erwin. It’s not likely necromancy because the soul wouldn’t stay in the body long enough to do anything,” Nanaba confirmed.
Eren shifted in his seat. “Are... you able to do that, Erwin?”
Erwin sighed. “Hearing pieces of spirits not moved on is not the same as necromancy.”
Mike, who’d been quiet up to that point decided to not let go of the topic just yet. “Well, if our suspect’s not a reanimated corpse with a soul, what about zombies? Or is that the same thing?”
Erwin lifted a brow and tilted his head.
“No. That’s not the same thing,” Erwin stated dryly, wondering why Mike always had a one-track mind. “Zombies aren’t real, mate.”
He seemed disappointed by Erwin’s blunt response. Thankfully, he finally moved onto the case.
“So, tomorrow we can go to the university. We’ll stop by the funeral home that Julian Walsh was admitted to before the college. If we have time, we can swing by the museum. Try and trace the body’s path and see if he had any unsavory associates. For all we know, someone could’ve helped Walsh fake his death.”
Erwin nodded approvingly. “That’s more realistic than zombies.”
Mike deadpanned glare was unaffected against Erwin’s smug smirk.
Chapter Text
***
It seemed to lunge at him in slow motion.
An eerie disk-shaped maw with sharp, recurved teeth and rasping tongue. Each fang ready to bury into his flesh and feed off his blood and other bodily fluids until its scaleless body was gorged.
Erwin refrained from closing the distance between him and the creature while Mike chose the opposite. Leaning near the open mouth, he lifted a finger to experimentally poke at the pair of sharp teeth that mimicked a vampire’s fangs. All they needed was the creature to spin rapidly and it’d be equivalent to a possessed buzzsaw.
“I don’t get it,” Mike murmured, troubled at what he was looking at. “How did humans get away with calling us monsters when these creeps were in the water the whole time? Look.” He gestured to the information panel beneath the mounted eel-like creature. “It says the lampreys have lived on Earth longer than trees and dinosaurs. And that the Pacific ones leave a smiley face in their hosts with their bites. How messed up is that?”
“Indeed.”
Mike straightened and faced Erwin, ignoring the few children that had overheard him and were now poking at the taxidermized lamprey.
“What? Don’t tell me these make you squeamish.”
Before Erwin could respond, the clap of heels against the hard floors reverberated through the patrons at Burke Museum. The institution’s curator had finally wrapped up her duties and was coming to meet the GSIS agents who had been waiting patiently. The brisk stride and hasty weaving through the guests betrayed her attempt at a collected demeanor which the pencil skirt and blazer represented. Erwin wondered if perhaps the front associate they met with previously took their time informing the professor of their arrival. Or maybe the woman was simply in the middle of a business arrangement and only now broke free.
In Erwin’s experience, it wasn’t uncommon for introductions to be conducted under stress. While GSIS employed anyone from humans to vampires, approximately 83% of the workforce consisted of reapers. Whether on official enforcement business or a gleaning assignment, it was rare for anyone to meet them without apprehension that they’d live through the hour. Erwin had a hard time understanding the illogical thought process behind that. Gleaning tasks were specifically assigned and drawn at random. It was illegal for reapers to freely harvest souls outside of express permission from SRC. The irrational worry simply didn’t make sense.
Their earlier meeting at the funeral home that processed Julian Walsh’s body was no different. Even in an occupation profiting from death, the mortician remained cautious and speculative to their questions, in a way that a chastised child would answer. Not necessarily guilty, yet not forthcoming either.
According to the mortician, Walsh died of a heart attack, and he reassured them that the wolven was very much dead. He then made the mistake of referring to his operation on the deceased Walsh as ‘necropsy’, in which Erwin had sharply corrected him. It did more harm than good doing so, and he wondered if he’d been better off swallowing his disdain for the doctor's crudeness. But the damage was done. Confused and clammed up, the mortician stared in a frozen state, wondering if he overstepped his privileges and would meet the end of the scythe.
“Wolvens are not just animals, therefore they deserve the proper respect, even after death—wouldn’t you agree?” Erwin had prompted.
Relief passed the doctor’s face and, after sensing it was philosophical correction more than a transgression of losing his soul, he eagerly remedied his error. “Yes. Autopsy is what I meant to say. Thank you for correcting me. Old habits... and all.”
It didn’t escape either GSIS employee that the doctor didn’t tack on ‘die hard’ at the end of the idiom. Likely he wasn’t sure if the unintended pun would be received well by a reaper with whom he insulted.
The discussion continued from there. According to the copied records, Walsh had registered with the local Anatomical Institute on campus to donate his body after death. The healthy organs that were not needed for research were donated to medical facilities while the rest were collected and tested for future advancement. Then the body was embalmed for teaching hybrid anatomy to the students until no longer of use.
Seeing as Walsh had no living relatives, there was no one to take the remains after the recovery process was completed. The normal practice was for the institute to collect what they needed and make the most of the body before cremating the cadaver and releasing back to the family for a funeral. Due to the circumstances being unique with no one to take the remains, the chain of custody included the Burke Museum at two separate points in the timeline, to maximize the donation and later use Walsh’s skeleton.
Per the documentation, the body left the funeral home and arrived at the museum, where tissue samples were gathered prior to Walsh being transferred to the UW School of Medicine. When Erwin and Mike arrived at the campus to interview the colleagues and medical staff, it was confirmed the body was fully utilized for research prior to returning to the museum. From there, the remains were reduced to bare skeleton for the purpose of display and education of hybrid analysis. With fellow university professors having nothing but the highest praise for Walsh and his work in Lineage Species Concepts, the trail led the agent and consultant to the museum to finally lay eyes on the skeleton.
“I deeply apologize for the wait, gentlemen,” the curator amended as she reached the pair. Her manicured hands came up to smooth her attire, grooming to disguise her anxiousness. “You managed to catch me during an important meeting. It was our quarterly international conference, and the clerk you spoke with was too nervous to interrupt it and inform me of your arrival.”
“That’s understandable, ma’am,” Mike said, flashing his ID as he rattled off the typical introductions. “I’m Special Agent Mike Zacharias and this is GSIS Consultant Erwin Smith. We have a few questions regarding a volunteer who donated his remains for science after his death. Do you have a place we can speak privately?”
“Yes, certainly. I’ll take you to my office.” She spun on her heels without a hitch, leading them through the floor to a restricted room of glass.
Behind it was a lab of sorts with white cabinets and stainless-steel tables. Various bones were spaced strategically across the surfaces with handwritten labels attached with wire. Technicians in white coats and latex gloves were bustling around, undeterred by the patrons staring in through the glass as they toiled with their projects.
“I’m Jane Newlin, the Associate Professor and Curator. Not that you aren’t already aware,” she spoke while guiding them into a narrow stretch of hallway, keeping with the sterile white theme. “Judging by your description of the volunteer, there’s only two names that come to mind. Please, right through here and make yourselves comfortable.”
She stepped out of the way and gestured to the sleek office. Erwin followed Mike inside, running a cursory glance around the room. Three spacious windows were behind the asymmetrical matte black desk: an attempt at sophistication, but a nightmare for someone with OCD. A large square abstract painting loomed over the boxy cabinets holding aged books and two decorative chairs faced the desk. Reluctantly, Erwin settled into one, finding it just as uncomfortable as it looked.
As Jane walked to her designated seat across from them, Erwin’s attention drifted to the windows where he noticed the specialty tint. While vampires were capable of traveling in daylight, they were still sensitive to the UV rays. Now that they were away from so many other souls, he could sense the age coming from her, even though Jane’s appearance looked no more than late fifties. Her soul had a potency that came with the maturation of spiritual energy, similar to how aged wine allowed for a smoother experience. More balanced.
“You’re a vampire,” Erwin said, for no other reason than to state he was aware.
Jane froze in mid-descend to her chair, meeting his gaze, then sitting the rest of the way. She scooted the seat closer, clearing her throat.
“And Special Agent Zacharias is a wolven. Last I checked, what I am is not a crime,” she replied before venturing. “Unless you’re searching for a vampire, and the explanation of a volunteer was simply a ruse to get me alone?”
“No, ma’am,” Mike assured. “We’re here in regard to the volunteer we mentioned.”
“Ah. That’s a relief.” Her attention landed on Mike, though it sounded like she was addressing Erwin. “I’d hate for my time to be up after so many centuries. There’s still plenty I wish to do. How can I be of assistance?”
Mike dove right into it. “We’re here to ask about the late Julian Walsh. How much interaction do you have with volunteers for the museum?”
“That depends on what they’re volunteering for. Those that are simply doing it for community credits, I don’t interact with at all. Anyone here for internship hours or seminars, quite regularly. If you’re asking about Julian in particular, I met with him often. We usually bounced ideas off one another when it came to new lectures in our Homosapien and Supra Biology Exhibit. He had a true passion for raising awareness amongst youths, believing that through education and understanding, future generations could forego prejudice.”
“That sounds like a noble cause,” Erwin commented, genuinely admiring the dedication behind Walsh’s efforts.
“It was,” she smiled fondly. “Julian was a pacifist at heart. Always wanting cohesion to triumph over animosity. It’s a shame he was a hybrid. I feel he could’ve impacted more minds if he was a full wolven.”
“It’s our understanding that after retirement as a professor in UW, he registered his body for donation to science. What can you tell us about that?”
“Yes. He believed he could still make a difference after his passing. Initially, he was supposed to stay at UW, however while they have the capabilities to embalm, they don’t have anything in place for afterwards. Embalming only slows the decomposition process; it doesn’t stop it. We were very keen to arrange for his cadaver to be transferred here where we could honor his wishes and use his skeleton for display indefinitely.”
“And what processes do you have that the medical division on campus does not? I can’t imagine there’s full research being conducted here.”
“You saw the lab,” she gestured toward the hall. “That’s only one of the research rooms we have here in the building. Our Genetic Resource Collection is quite extensive. But don’t get it confused and think we offer burial services. We don’t have a crematorium or anything of the sort, nor medical facilities,” she laughed. “But we do have a bug room.”
“A bug room?” Mike squinted his eyes.
“Mhm. Yes. It’s where the staff typically clean the meat off donated skeletons with colonies of dermestid beetles, also called skin beetles. They feed on the flesh, leaving behind a clean skeleton ready for display.”
“Ah,” Mike didn’t have much else to add as his brows knitted together in poorly concealed disgust.
“I have a question that I’d like to ask,” Jane proposed as Mike gathered his thoughts. “Is this in regard to the robbery?”
“Which robbery would that be?” Erwin countered.
“The one that consisted of two of our wolven skeletons. One of which is Julian...” She tilted her head as she observed Erwin. “That’s a no, isn’t it? It’s got something else to do with him.”
Erwin felt the corner of his lip tug upwards at the woman’s sharpness. She was indeed wise.
“I don’t recall seeing a report with GSIS regarding a robbery,” Mike informed. “Did you file one with the Seattle PD? What was stolen exactly?”
Jane sighed. “The first burglary, yes. It was a full wolven skull taken earlier this year. Then Julian’s went missing a few months ago, only weeks after he was put on display. We didn’t report that one because we had hoped to keep the investigation quiet to not alert the guilty party and weed them out ourselves. But when nothing was on the security footage and we had nothing else to go on, we decided to wait until they made another move. The Seattle PD were less than helpful the first time.”
“You said it was the skull for the first member? What about Mr. Walsh?” Erwin asked. “Was it only the skull as well.”
“That’s right.”
“And you mentioned there was someone else that was a volunteer that donated their body in addition to him. It didn’t happen to be the first stolen person, was it?”
“No. The full wolven was simply a donation from someone wanting to contribute after their passing. Our second deceased volunteer I referred to is still on display.”
“Can you take us to the skeletons?”
“Certainly.” She stood up, which Erwin and Mike mirrored as she walked to the door. “But I’m afraid to inform you that we only have Julian’ body set aside. We saw no reason to keep the first donation.”
Mike fixed Erwin with a fleeting side-eye before asking, “Was the other body returned to the family?”
Jane huffed an incredulous laugh. “Oh, no. No, not at all. The scandal that would cause--to not only show we can’t protect donated remains, but then to hand a headless skeleton back? That’d cause an uproar. The media would pounce all over that, and our funding would certainly suffer some setbacks. We placed him in an unmarked grave in a nearby cemetery.”
Erwin noted the scowl that marred the features of his companion. It wasn’t much of a stretch to assume the cold treatment of the body was primarily due to the person being a wolven. A human, vampire, or reaper would’ve had some bare resemblance of a marker, no doubt. Even if Jane was of like-mind as Julian for educating about wolvens, he suspected the members of the board may not share the same opinion, therefore maintain the belief that shifters were lower-class. It was another rude reminder to Mike of how his kin were treated when they lacked notability or citizenship. Erwin was thankful that wolvens employed with GSIS were at least treated with respect and worth.
Before they exited the hallway through the door leading to the lab, Jane paused with a hand on the push bar. “If this doesn’t have anything to do with the robbery, can I ask what it’s about?”
“It’s an ongoing investigation,” Mike replied, “Those details cannot be released.”
She frowned at the terse response, though she accepted the dismissal and led them into the lab. Most of the technicians were still working on their projects. At the sight of Mike’s towering frame and badge on his belt, along with Erwin’s pristine suit following their boss, it warranted some leery stares. Even as the trio moved toward the rear of the room, where a set of mortuary cabinets were situated, the technicians shuffled to the opposite end, murmuring what would no doubt be the start of workplace rumors. Erwin and Mike paid little attention.
Picking up a box of latex gloves, Jane pulled out a pair and slipped them on before opening one of the cabinets. A sliding tray was tugged out and a headless skeleton rested across the unfriendly steel.
“This is Julian. As you can see, it was only his skull that was taken. All other bones have been inventoried and accounted for.”
Erwin had expected a skeleton in human form when he heard of the donation. What he saw on the table was what could be mistaken as a large wolf, with the legs curled to fit on the rack and lengthy caudal vertebrae that made up the tail. As Moblit had explained the day prior, it was a loup-garou variant and not a lycanthrope, which would’ve been too large to fit in the mortuary cabinet.
“Did they induce a change before he passed or is this the form he was in when he had his heart attack?” Erwin asked.
“No, sadly, he was in his human form when his heart gave out.” When she saw the inquisitive stare from Erwin, she explained, “After a wolven passes, they have an intravenous injection that can trigger a shift before rigor mortis sets in. Usually, it must be done almost immediately after death for the body to react. You know, when there’s still some neurons firing in the brain, or else it won’t work.”
“An injection that forces a shift?” Mike looked put off by that and did little to mask his disdain. “That sounds inhumane. Dead or not.”
Jane, despite being older than them, sensed the delicate topic in Mike’s presence and had enough sense to pick her words carefully. “Its purpose is not widely used, as far as I’m aware. Granted it’s not my area of expertise, but from what I know, that’s the only time I’ve heard of it being implemented. It’s said to be... an unpleasant experience.”
Mike’s jaw ticked but he had nothing else to say. If Erwin had to guess, anything Mike wanted to comment on was not appropriate for work. That was fine. Erwin didn’t mind taking the lead from here.
“We’d like to take Mr. Walsh’s remains with us for the time being. Once the investigation is complete, we assure you he will be returned.”
Jane looked like she wanted to argue as her mouth worked. Instead, she gave a curt nod. “Very well. We can arrange that.”
“We appreciate it and will treat him with care.” Craning his head over his shoulder at the prying technicians, he then asked, “Was anything else stolen from donated cadavers? Tissue, organs? Here or at UW Medical?”
“I do recall mentions of inventory not matching for certain supplies at UW, but nothing relating to cadavers. Then again, that’s nothing unusual when you have multiple classes of students and staff. I don’t believe it was anything to cause alarm.”
Erwin decided to not close that door to a connection just yet. Stollen medical tools and skeleton parts were partially synonymous in his mind. Especially, when UW students also interned at the museum. “Who had access to him when the robberies occurred?”
Jane sighed, her polite cooperation diminishing to reveal her inconvenience. “Too many. We have select interns working at the museum labs, not to mention archaeologists, anthropologists, geologists, entomologists... so many staff that overlap with the university or outside organizations. Not to mention guests.”
“Can you gather a list of everyone working the weeks both bodies were vandalized? I’ll start with the arrangements to take Mr. Walsh in the meantime.”
“You want a list of the entire two weeks?”
“Yes, that’s preferable.”
Jane sighed again and waved over a technician. “Fine, but it may take a while for me to get the list together.”
“That’s not a problem. We can wait.”
Ah, yes. Her patience was indeed thinning as she studied him wryly.
When the technician arrived, she gave him a brief introduction and told him to prepare the remains for transport before taking her leave. The young man, Carson, looked terrified but forced out a smile as he put on some gloves.
“Hi, er... would you like him in a body bag?”
Erwin composed an appreciative smile, hiding his amusement at the technician’s attempt at nonchalance. The overly casual reference, as if at a grocery store checkout, didn’t escape either of their attention judging by the embarrassed flush from Carson.
“That’d be preferrable, thank you.”
“Sure. Sure. Uh... I’ll go and get one. I’ll... be right back.”
Mike scoffed as the young man disappeared into what looked like a storage room, practically fleeing from their presence.
“Jumpy kid. They aren’t usually that rattled.”
Erwin glanced at Mike. “You think he’s anxious because he’s hiding something?”
Mike smirked. “No. I think it’s because they know you’re a reaper and scared you’ll be taking more than a skeleton with you.”
Erwin lifted a brow and shook his head.
“The stigma against reapers isn’t that bad... most the time,” he tacked on as an afterthought. Judging by Mike’s broadening grin, it was the admission he was after. Erwin didn’t try to correct himself and let Mike have it. He was plenty aware of how people viewed his kind once they realized what he was.
“So, what’s your opinion so far, Erwin?”
Dragging his gaze to the headless body, he bent down to have a closer look. There was a lack of broken vertebrae, and the limbs had holes drilled in various parts of the joints. The way the skeleton posed was in mid run with the legs curled under the belly. Perhaps it was a tactic to have the wolven fit on the slab or it was how Walsh was displayed to the public. He suspected the holes in the joints were the screws to keep the limbs in place.
“Whoever removed the skull did it without causing damage. I suspect it’s someone who has regular access to this floor and lab rather than partial. Whoever did it knew where the cameras were to avoid detection.”
“We need to have Moblit and Sasha look at the skeleton to see if we can pull an ID off it--just to verify its actually Walsh. That’s going to be a hell without a skull, but I’m hoping medical records may help with that.”
“Aren’t medical records for wolvens primarily done when you’re in your human form?” Erwin asked suddenly as he stood up.
Mike’s gaze widened a fraction then dropped to the slab. While dental exams were common for wolvens to maintain in both forms, medical check-ups weren't so frequent.
“Dammit,” he dragged his hands down his face. “You’re right. There are some similarities that transfer over between shifts, like broken bones and such, but any x-rays or other characteristics we could use to compare won’t do us any good. Not unless he hurt himself as a wolven and was taken in like that because he couldn’t risk a shift. Fuck, Shadis is going to be pissed to hear another dead end.”
“Relax,” Erwin said, sensing the technician returning with the body bag and a gurney. “We’ll see what Moblit can figure out and go from there. I’m certain it’s Walsh.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“A skull is easier to get out than an entire wolven. There’s no reason to swap out bodies if the suspect had one in their possession already.”
“It could be a frame job too. What if Walsh is alive and he knew there was a chance for his method of murder to be traced back to him with dental records? Maybe this wolven never was Walsh, so he took the skull to avoid the truth of his death being faked?”
The conversation promptly ended as the technician reached them and started to work on preparing the body.
Erwin hated to admit that what Mike suggested wasn’t unlikely. Walsh had enough knowledge from volunteering here to avoid cameras, as well as to know which wolven skeleton wasn’t here when he was alive. If that was the case, he’d have an accomplice in the funeral home, and in the UW Medical Institute. Even if he was a professor in a separate department, he could’ve had plenty of opportunities to mingle with other instructors, one of which could've recognized the false cadaver.
He shelved those thoughts to the back of his mind as he pulled on some gloves to assist in moving the skeleton, taking care not to jostle it too much. It was unlikely they’d get any trace evidence of value with it on display to the public. Not to mention, there were a plethora of latex gloves for staff to use which would avoid fingerprints, yet Erwin didn’t want to rule out the chances just yet.
They were just finishing up when Jane returned, handing Erwin the pages of names along with a copy of ID cards. Erwin peeled his gloves off to take the documents as she explained her organization after dismissing the technician.
“The ones highlighted in yellow are the people who worked primarily on this floor and were our prior suspects. I provided everyone’s identification simply because if announces their affiliation, status, and specialty.”
Erwin began sifting through the pages as Mike leered over his shoulder. Jane transferred her weight side to side, impatient as they loitered in her territory. Erwin ignored the vampire. He was going to run a superficial review of the staff and ask questions while they had her available. She would just have to deal with it.
Curators, executives, visitors, educators, students, even local Tribe members. It was a melting pot of knowledge and different species. He could see why narrowing a robbery down in a high traffic area would be difficult if the cameras failed to catch anything suspicious.
Just as Erwin was about to question the time of a few professors’ employment with Burke, his eyes landed on a specific pair of ID’s. They looked like duplicates at first glance, which seemed like an error Jane wouldn’t make. Upon a closer skim, he noticed the two names had different majors beneath their internship titles.
“Are these two students still employed with you?”
Jane took the offered paper to see who he was referring to. “Yes. They’re some of our senior internship members in their final year of college. Travis here is very bright. We’ve spoken to him about an opening technician position here in the future after he graduates.”
“Why do they have a separate IDs for each major instead of combining them?”
“Oh, they’re not double majoring. They changed their area of study.”
Erwin felt his brows dip. “They switched from zoology to forensic anthropology? Forgive me, but I'm not seeing the link between the two internships. Malacology to osteology tracks of study seems very unusual.”
Sensing his skepticism, she handed the paper back. “It’s not that uncommon. Students enter a field and after expanding their knowledge, they may find their niche elsewhere. I will say, I always suspected that Asim only changed his field of study to follow Travis. Not saying that Travis influenced him in a way of peer pressure, but they are very good friends. Both very bright individuals.”
“I’m sorry, can we back-up a bit,” Mike interrupted. “What are their areas of study?”
“Malacology is the study of mollusks and invertebrates such as clams, snails, slugs, mussels, and oysters. Osteology is bones. We allow interns to work in the area they are preparing to pursue their Masters in. Again,” she reiterated, “it’s not uncommon to change studies.”
While he understood her disclaimer, Erwin wasn’t inclined to dismiss his suspicions so soon.
“We appreciate your assistance. If we have other questions, we’ll be in touch.”
“And how long will you keep Julian?”
“I cannot say for sure, but we’re working on closing the case as soon as we can.”
Jane sighed. “Very well, I’ll have someone walk you out and assist in loading his remains.”
Returning to the SUV, Mike shut the rear hatch after securing the body and slid into the driver’s seat. Erwin was already on the passenger side, reviewing the students in question.
“You really think they have something to do with it?” Mike ventured as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.
“They stuck out to me,” Erwin responded, not looking away from the papers.
“Stuck out... That’s vague. Just because they had two IDs?”
“Occam’s razor. The principle that the simplest solution is usually the most accurate. It wasn't only the IDs that drew my attention but also the degrees are very different. Too different even. It’s not like they were studying birds and decided to switch to mammals.”
“I don’t know. By that same argument, you could say there’s a simple explanation for the field change. Aren’t shells made of calcium or something similar to bones? That could explain it.”
Erwin lifted a judging brow in his direction. “That’s a stretch, even for you, mate.”
Mike chuffed. “Not everyone is worldly like you. Get off my back.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, just that I don’t think calcium was the reason for them changing fields.”
“Well, sure, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid. So, what? You think they decided to pick up a side hobby as body snatchers and wanted to have better access to it? Why would they want that?”
“That’s yet to be determined. I had asked about tissues and organs being stollen due to the possibility of selling on the black market. Not sure where wolven skulls would play a factor in that. They aren’t overly rare.”
The way most wolvens were treated in society, he was sure one could solicit a homeless, down-on-their-luck, or unregistered werewolf to sell their skull over after they passed, so long as they got paid while alive. It wasn’t like wolvens didn’t sell worse things to better their situations. Willfully auctioning one’s freedom seemed a steeper price than body parts after death.
“Alright,” Mike conceded. “We’ll check these students out. Could always do it today after we drop the alleged 'Walsh' off with Moblit.”
“It’s getting late. That won’t be a problem for you?”
“Nah. I don’t mind doing some night time recon if you’re up for overtime hours.”
Erwin shuffled the papers together into a neat stack and slid it between the center console and cushion. “I don’t have any plans, so that’s fine.”
“Great. I’ll have Nana come along and we can get dinner before we go to campus, like old times.”
Smirking, Erwing unbuttoned his blazer and adjusted it to limit wrinkles. “Should I assume this is a stakeout more than simply interviewing college kids?”
“Why not both? When’s the last time you did an overnight haul?”
“Depends on if you count gleanings.”
Mike shook his head. “No. Those don’t require team effort. That’s just you skulking in the shadows until your poor victim is available for you to reap their innocent soul and cart them off to the scary Netherworld.”
“Hello, pot. I’m kettle,” Erwin retorted in good humor. “Isn’t that rich coming from the wolf in most stories.”
“I’m as lovable as a lapdog.”
“Maybe for Nanaba, but I’d say that’s the extent of it.”
A toothy grin beamed at him from the driver's seat. "Jealous?"
"Please. My drycleaner appreciates the lack of intimacy between us."
"Lint roller, my friend. That's all the protection you need."
"I'd never dare fight Nana for your... affection-if that's what you wish to call it."
Mike barked out a rolling laugh as he passed a slow car.
The image of a powerfully built, bipedal, wolfish beast smothering Nanaba’s legs as she petted him, didn’t take much imagination to conjure. Not when he’d witnessed their dynamic himself and a severely drunk, babbling Mike. The married couple had a wholesome relationship in his eyes, despite being two different entities.
“I was thinking,” Erwin began as he broached a change of topic. “It may be worth looking into the murderer believing themselves to be a vigilante. I don’t genuinely think the theory fits with the seals we’ve seen, but it’s worth crossing off our list if it’s not.”
“What makes you say vigilante? Aside from some negligent driving, littering, and a few parking tickets, all the victims were clean of past offenses.”
“Like I said, it’s not a profile I’m truly set on. Just entertaining it for now. There’s always a chance the suspect found out these people did something against a certain species, and he killed them as punishment. Then they decided to pose the corpses into a forgiving posture. Perhaps, the suspect sees what they’re doing as justice. Implementing a punishment and forcing the bodies to seek mercy in their final act.”
Mike remained quiet for a handful of miles, mulling over Erwin’s spare theory. Eventually, he offered a shrug. “It’s not a bad profile. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. But you’re not favoring it?”
“No.” Erwin’s gaze dropped to the papers fleetingly then to the road. “The seals and stollen skulls don’t line up with it.”
“Hm... Not if you’re looking at it from a staff member of the museum doing it. But if Walsh faked his death to seek retribution on those that wronged different species, there’s a good connection.”
Erwin didn’t add anything else to the discussion, resting his cheek on his knuckles as they drove south on I-5, leaving Seattle limits. A part of him wanted to abort the idea of Walsh plotting a heinous scheme, even if it was with good intentions of respecting different entities. A fellow intellectual choosing to abandon the path of educating future generations and resorting to violence seemed counterproductive in his opinion. The other part of him knew that there were some unmistakable links that fit too well into that theory.
And yet, his gut was telling him it was wrong. That if the skeleton in the back of the SUV was indeed Walsh, they ran the risk of their leads going up in smoke. They needed to exhaust the possibilities of an outside party being involved before word got out that GSIS had Walsh’s alleged remains, and the murderer went underground.
***
They must have made a strange image walking through the halls of the co-ed dorms. Mike had thrown on a simple canvas jacket, relinquishing the visible duty weapons, and tucked away his badge while Nanaba wore a white crewneck sweater beneath a maroon peacoat. Not having packed a change of clothes suitable for late night interviews, Erwin remained in his three-piece suit. A pair of college students in joggers passed them in the corridor, sending questioning looks their way as they stopped at the designated dorm.
14-C. The supposed room to Travis Kipper and Asim Bashar.
Hanging back in the center of the hall, Erwin locked eyes with the curious students leering near a wall-mounted water refill station. He didn’t move, nor blink, simply observed their blatant rudeness. The pair ashamedly flinched and hurried away with their heads ducked until slipping into their own room, shutting the door a tad harder than necessary. Nanaba snorted in amusement, sharing a smirk with Erwin while Mike worked on getting the attention of whoever was inside their targeted dorm.
It took several rounds of polite knocks before shuffling overlapped the television. Impatient, Mike was prepared to knock again when the door swung open.
A young man greeted them in just a pair of boxers, looking ruffled with his disheveled hair and kiss swollen lips. Along his collarbone was darkening evidence of a hickey forming, proving they had interrupted an unofficial ‘anatomy’ study session. Upon realizing that it was not another student at his room, the guy startled and swung the door partially shut in a sad attempt at modesty. Or to hide a clearer view inside.
“Uh, who are you?”
Mike, not recognizing the man from either of the photos, sidestepped the question. “Is Travis or Asim in?”
“Er, no. They left a little while ago.”
“Do you know where they went?”
“They said they were going to the party, but had to stop at the usual gas station on the way. It’s the only one that has the blood stout they wanted.”
Erwin felt his brows dip at the sound of the beverage. From the documents, the two men were humans. “Why are they picking up blood stout?”
The young man scratched at his bare chest, sending a shy glance over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Travis has been trying to get with some vampire girl for like two quarters now. Someone mentioned she isn’t into the lighter blood beers and has a thing for this stout, so... yeah.”
Nanaba offered a charming smile. “Do you mind telling us where the party is?”
The student eyed her as he hesitated, either appreciative or skeptical, Erwin couldn’t tell. While none of them looked young enough to be students, he knew many members of society still openly appreciated those outside their demographic, primarily due to never knowing the others’ true age. Most assumed that Nanaba, despite being over 300 years old, was no more than 30. It was an image that would remain the same for centuries to come as Supra’s physically aged slower after their 250th year. A blessing to most, and curse for others. Such as now, with Mike bristling in place.
“Yeah, I can do that. Gotta get my phone.”
He closed the door enough to not let them watch him retreat. Nanaba elbowed Mike in a gesture to relax, likely thankful the student hadn’t noticed his glare. The last thing they needed was to spook someone with a lead and have them fall mute.
“Stop that.”
“That was rude of him to stare at you like that,” Mike defended.
“His brain hasn’t fully developed, give him a break.”
“Poor choice of words, Nana,” he muttered dryly, causing her to laugh.
The door opened as the man returned, looking at the phone as he rattled off the address. Nanaba typed it into her maps while Erwin asked about the gas station with the blood stout. The directions were vague and consisted of poorly described landmarks, but it was enough to give them a general idea.
The student’s eyes flickered between them as he sensed the questions coming to an end. “So, how do you know Travis?”
Mike turned away with a curt thank you, taking Nanaba with him. Erwin offered a polite smile.
“We’re just friends,” Erwin waved over his shoulder as he followed his companions.
***
The glow from the gas station illuminated the cab of the sedan. Behind them were the grimy fuel pumps with overflowing garbage cans, sprinkling receipts and gum wrappers on the concrete. Mike used the limited light to pour over the clipboard of papers, filling them out while they waited for Nanaba to finish talking to the clerk. They knew Travis and Asim had likely arrived at the party by now, though the trio decided to verify they weren’t being strung along on a wild goose chase before showing up at someone’s house. Erwin sat in the back seat, watching Nanaba through the windows before flipping his gaze at Mike.
“Are those the forms you neglected to fill out earlier for Shadis?”
“Yeah. Figured I’d try to knock them out instead of wasting time on them tomorrow. Hate paperwork.”
Erwin tilted his head back until it rested against the seat. “Paperwork’s the lifeblood of GSIS.”
“As you’re aware, you don’t need all your blood to survive. They should cut down on some of these reductant forms. It’s not like Shadis reads all of them.”
“No, but some SRC attorney would greatly enjoy tearing it apart if something ever went wrong.”
“Yeah, those Registry pricks get off to things like that.” Losing interest in the paperwork, he set the clipboard on his lap and glanced at Erwin through the rearview mirror. “So, speaking of getting off, are you seeing anyone these days?”
Erwin aimed a nettled stare at him. “Since when have you gotten so crude?”
Mike shrugged innocently, though his smirk was impish. “Probably hanging out with Eren and Jean too much. Don’t deflect. Tell me how your love-life is going, man.”
“It’s not active at the moment. I’ve been keeping busy.”
“Those two things are related in the way of cause and effect, Erwin," he lectured dryly. "You should find someone to spend that time with. Don’t fill the space with more work. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Enjoy it.”
“Thanks for the philosophical session. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Come on. Tell your best friend what the problem is. You’re a great-looking guy, smartest person I know, can accomplish a lot more than those elite bureaucrats in the SRC if you wanted to... I just don’t get it.”
Erwin internalized a sigh. He wasn't in the mood to discuss his romantic short comings. Truly, he wasn't. But the topic was inevitable and, if he was being honest, he did feel a smidge of guilt for not keeping in touch with his friends since the falling out of the last consultation. It wasn't their fault he and Shadis couldn't get along, and they certainly didn't deserve the bout of absense from him. Reluctantly, he gave in and answered.
“The problem is that the people I interact with just falls stagnant after a while. By the fifth date, we’re struggling to carry a simple conversation, and it starts to feel equivalent to an obligation that’ll only keep repeating. You want to talk about redundant, consider how it is when you’ve had sex, but the connection beyond that is nonexistent. The ‘how’s your day’, ‘what are you doing this weekend’, and ‘yes, my dinner was good’ are like pulling teeth by the end of it, and sounds more like a recital. There’s zero connection.”
Mike laughed openly at Erwin’s mild vent causing the reaper to shake his head. “Aw, come on. Maybe those people are the ones you only keep for physical companionship. Not everybody is looking for long-term commitment, especially amongst Supras. Devoting to someone for centuries to come is daunting. I hear the humans complaining about commitment issues and think they should be the last to have that opinion. Their lifespans are a blimp compared to ours.”
“And yet you and Nanaba settled down and got married. Some would call you crazy for doing it so young.”
“What can I say?” Mike’s fond smile landed on Nanaba who was finishing up with the clerk inside. “She’s the love of my life. I really lucked out meeting her so early.”
“Is it so hard to understand that I’d like the same thing? An actual connection?”
“No,” Mike conceded. “I want you to have a person in your life like Nanaba. Really, you deserve someone that makes your world better and brighter.” He shifted in his seat to mockingly glare at Erwin. “Just not Nanaba. Keep your eyes off her.”
Erwin chuckled. “Please, she’s more of a sister than anything.”
The glass door swung open as Nanaba jogging to the driver’s seat. As she settled into place, she addressed them with a victorious smile. “The employee confirmed he saw our two students. Said there was another person with them, and they bought a couple sixpacks and left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Sounds like they’re heading to the house party after all,” Mike surmised, adjusting in the seat.
“Well, what do you say we crash it?”
***
If they thought they were out of place before at the campus dormitory, it was painfully obvious they were misplaced here. The house party was not the backdrop Erwin expected to find himself in when he left his home that morning.
The stuffy hallway was a hassle to navigate between the people pressed against the walls, making out, and the hazy air from cigarettes and pot. The droning thumps were a physical sensation against their ears from the obnoxious speakers and a steady line was growing outside of the bathroom. Just as they walked by, the door burst open as the next person shoved their way past the woman trying to exit, seconds before vomiting their stomach contents in the toilet. Erwin frowned at the distasteful display, following Mike and Nanaba into the living room.
“Why don’t we split up,” Nanaba suggested, leaning closer so she could be heard. “If one of us finds either kid, we can call the others.”
“Sounds good,” Mike agreed, walking past her toward the kitchen while she headed for the garage.
Erwin watched them leave, trying to ignore the crunch of stray potato chips beneath his shoes or the discarded plastic cups along the wall.
Deciding to minimize his presence, he picked his way to a corner of the main room, taking care to channel his fluid movements to not draw the eye. While he didn’t have his cloak to conceal his figure, being a reaper naturally had the advantage of blending into the background when desired. From his new vantage, he surveyed the room, searching for either student amongst the cluster of rowdy partiers.
The bass of the music, despite the endless vibrating against his skull, was distracting enough to focus on the faces. If he truly put effort into it, he could force himself to see the aura of souls, hinting to the nature of the individual. These usually manifested themselves in a frail light like a thread against the skin. Some were ambers, others were shades of blues. None of which would do him any good now when he wasn’t gleaning.
The people in attendance were predominantly human, though that was commonly the case. On the couch was an interspecies couple, making out between bouts of the blond vampire feeding from the other’s wrist. A group of wolvens in their human form were dancing with drinks hanging precariously in the air at shoulder level, and he could vaguely sense his reaper kin sprinkled throughout. It was their eyes, in particular, that he felt trail him when he determined the living room was clear.
Moving toward the dining room, he momentarily observed the beer pong crowd then stepped out the sliding door to the back patio. The yard was spacious with a fir tree offset to the left, a blow-up pool that went unused, and cedar pergola sheltering occupied patio chairs. The privacy fencing stretched on either side that bordered the neighbor’s property, but didn’t enclose the back where a stand of trees loomed.
Burying his hands into his coat pockets, Erwin meandered around the yard, eyeing the cliques drinking or lingering near a fire ring. It was quieter outside, though the thudding from the music leaked out just enough that the neighbors wouldn’t call for disturbance complaints. As he scanned the scene, he once again came up with a frustrating nothing, and his phone remained silent and still in his pocket. He hoped that whoever the roommate was, hadn’t tipped off Travis or Asim to strangers looking for them.
Erwin took a breath of the crisp air, savoring the feeling of it clearing out his lungs of what he was breathing inside. Observing the scene from further away stirred a familiar tingle. The kind that coaxed adrenaline to wake as he watched unsuspecting people milling about, unaware of death lurking just beyond the light. Regardless of being here as a consultant rather than a gleaning task, the possibilities of collecting a soul were exhilarating. Some vestiges of predatory instincts dating back to the supernova implosion that birthed the realm of the Netherworld. When reapers were not restricted to statistics or resource limitations or advancement in medicine. A simpler time of personal judgement and waiting for the opportunity to strike.
Although, that wasn’t to say that the changes weren’t necessary. Historically, humanity experienced droves of death at a time, such as the black plague or events that were deemed freak accidents. A time when other supras were less abundant than they were now, and reapers carried a 20% rule. 20% of a population were free to glean. The remaining percentage would reproduce, grow, or die of natural, or other causes. So, sure, by that logic, it wasn't uncommon to be overzealous and harvest more than appropriate. He could admit the regulations today had their purpose to combat those issues, however it didn’t dampen the thrill ingrained in him over the possibilities of collecting souls outside of assignments.
Taking another breath, he decided to go inside to check the second floor rather than tease himself further. Although, just as he pushed off the tree, the rear sliding door opened, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t the very same targets coming through in a hurry. Their movements were twitchy and erratic, the way a rabbit sways between fleeing from its cover or staying out of sight. There was a third member with them being ushered out the house, not even sacrificing the time to shut the door fully before they sprinted through the yard. Inevitably, their flight started to draw attention from other carousers, though the trio paid little mind.
Just as they were about to pass the tree where Erwin was behind, multiple things happened in the span of mere seconds. In his first step to reveal himself, Erwin summoned the sensation of concentrated ice water running down the veins of his forearm. The air shimmered near his open palm hanging at his side, like a mirage distorting the miniscule light rays. The second step out, Erwin was entirely visible, shadows morphing behind him, creating the illusion of his presence enhancing. By the third step, his scythe manifested itself completely by his side and the suspects were slamming on their brakes before colliding with him.
The one he recognized as Travis was at the head of the trio, stepping backward and nearly tripping on a root. He staggered into Asim and the unknown man before he regained solid footing. Erwin refrained from making any further move, having successfully halted the fleeing subjects. He didn’t miss the way everybody’s attention was now on them, nor the eyes that roamed over his beloved scythe.
The wood of an ancient yew tree made up the staff with a leather wrap to protect his grip. From the wood and leather, a bone was forged to the heel of the intimidating curved blade, baring a few chips in the belly that he had yet to repair. Adorning the crown of the staff was a light blue ribbon tied off and tails fluttering freely which was gifted from monks in Thailand, and a young elk antler shed from the Oceti Sakowin nation. Regretfully, he suspected the house guests’ attention was not focused on appreciating the unique tool but rather the blade itself that hovered dauntingly above the grass. The sheer presence of the weapon felt like a physical entity; he'd been told. He suspected that was their fear manifesting in the moment, though he would agree that he cherished his scythe with great bouts of pride.
“Travis and Asim? I’m Erwin Smith, a consultant. I'm here because I have a few questions for you. There’s no need to make this difficult, it’s simply a conversation about your internship.”
The unnamed member of their group didn’t allow for a response from his companions as he reached into his waist band and thrust out a pistol. In a last offense, he pulled the trigger as fast as he could. A flash of light burst into the dimness as the gun recoiled, the pop overlapping the screaming of nearby observers. None of it registered to Erwin who was instantly moving, dipping low as he planted a foot hard into the ground and surging forward with a single upward arc. The blade sparked electric blue along the edge, just as it smashed into the pistol still firing at him.
The gun sliced into pieces, barrel split in half, slide ejecting into the air as it disengaged from the rails. A yelp squeezed out of the young man who fell backwards on his ass, clutching his hand to his chest while Travis and Asim raised their arms in surrender and dropped immediately to their knees. Erwin looked down and saw that the kid’s right finger bent at an unnatural angle with new gashes across his knuckles from the gun raking against them. Despite being at Erwin’s mercy, the stranger managed to glare at him as sweat beaded across his brow.
Erwin simply stood there, calm and placid, barely taking note that Nanaba and Mike were now rushing toward them across the yard.
“He-hey,” Travis started as his attention snapped between them. “We didn’t know Eric would do that! We never meant to attack you.”
Before Erwin could respond, Mike planted himself behind the shooter, Eric, twisting him onto his belly to cuff him. Nanaba started apprehending the other two, having to pull out zip-ties for Asim.
“You good, Erwin?” Mike asked as he hauled Eric to his feet.
Dispelling his scythe in a shimmer, he ran his tingling hand down his front to smooth out the bunched material. No bullet holes, meaning no uncomfortable healing sessions. “No harm done. The excitement was short-lived.”
Nanaba snorted a laugh at the unintended pun, and if it was in Erwin’s nature, he would’ve rolled his eyes. “That’s not fair. You’re just a consultant now and you still get all the fun. What are we here for then?”
“Well, I’m not legally allowed to arrest suspects anymore. Hence the title ‘consultant’.”
"Oh, so we're just here to do the dirty work for you?"
“Wait—” Travis interrupted. “What do you want with us? You’re not here to glean our souls?”
Nanaba handed him to Erwin, taking Asim so they could guide them out of the yard. “No, kid. We’re GSIS Agents, and you just fled from us and proceeded to attack our consultant. You’re under arrest for Aggravated Assault with a Firearm, for starters.”
Mike picked up the pieces of the pistol and grabbed Eric by the upper arm to follow. Erwin brought up the rear with Travis.
“But we didn’t do that,” Asim defended. “We didn’t do anything!”
“That’s yet to be determined,” she brushed off, “We’ll sort it out when we get to the station.”
Erwin found himself rolling the word ‘station’ in his head, wondering if it was a learned habit Nanaba had picked up from other officers. The extravagant GSIS building certainly didn’t fit his description of a station. He was curious if the three humans would share his opinion when they arrived.
Then again, they would likely realize that they had more important things to worry about.
Notes:
I’m really trying to keep my chapters shorter. Inevitably, there will be long ones down the road, but they won’t be information-heavy like these first few are. Can't wait to post the next chapter 😁 It starts to get heavy.
Thank you for reading and checking it out. This year has started off on the wrong foot already so seeing these comments and kudos has really brightened my days!
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🖤
Chapter 3: The Hunter's Apprentices
Chapter Text
***
The lukewarm coffee touched his tongue and Erwin found himself wistfully contemplating how fortunate vampires were.
Their biology required very little constraints in way of sleeping. In centuries past, when discord strung between clans or territories, it was a disadvantage for species reliant on rest to ever make enemies of vampires. If there were any other entities that could compare to being less restricted via biology, reapers were the next in line.
And yet, going on 36 hours of no rest—and more appalling, being in the same suit—Erwin was beginning to think that he needed to rediscuss his pay with Director Shadis. At the very least, ensure he was earning overtime for all these hours he was accumulating. If the old reaper started to catch his usual attitude with Erwin, then he’d dangle the fresh leads their night (and now following day) had brought the department.
After separating the three subjects, Nanaba let them marinate in silence for hours before beginning with their interviews. It started off slow and steady; questioning their field of study, how long they had attended the university, and finally the sort of responsibilities working at their internship. The answers came easily enough and provided a baseline to compare their non-verbal positioning and behavioral responses to what the team already knew were true--per the museum’s documents and the college records. When the topics turned to the humans' reasons for changing their internship focus on osteology, indications of deception began to leak through.
Erwin monitored from the observation room as Nanaba and Mike took turns with each student, urging them to narrate as much as they wanted while listening. He kept track of the physiological changes and gestures, or lack thereof, to establish a baseline between them. Nanaba and Mike were patient and empathetic, choosing a moderate approach to the subjects who had been on the verge of panicking upon arrival to GSIS. It wouldn’t do any good trying to gather information if the subjects were in distress, hence the gentler handling to dissuade triggering desperate survival responses.
Similar to the human orchestrated FBI branch, GSIS was a federal entity with field offices in most states, usually in metropolis areas. The main difference, however, was that Gleaning Society of Investigation Services didn’t prolong anyone’s detainment if they were charged with a death penalty.
There was no time spent on the prosecution announcing intention to seek death penalty before preliminary examination. No pending months after the defendant was found guilty for them to return for sentencing. No decades of stewing on death row or court hearings to overrule and appeal decisions.
The U.S. Supra Regulatory Commission took their responsibility seriously in maintaining order amongst their long-living citizens. The last thing they needed was supras or humans violating acts of the Foedus Aequum treaty. However, that wasn’t to say gleanings were divvied out like candy on Hallow’s Eve, plentiful and abundant. Where humans were concerned, custody and jurisdiction of the case were usually the largest hurtles, and the punishment had to match of the crime. If the suspect—no matter what species--was at risk of tramping over treaty agreements and creating friction, a gleaning was a fair prospect to consider.
Therefore, Erwin understood that developing a baseline for reading the subtle cues from the subjects was vital to distinguish between fear-induced tics and purposeful deception. No one wanted to end up in a GSIS interrogation room. But here they were, and it was time to find out if Erwin’s intuition had substance with these kids or if he was losing his touch.
Eric, who they found out was indeed a fellow student, was being charged with Assault with a Firearm. It was a mild charge for GSIS to make and would likely result in the subject being handed to the local police for processing, being a state level offense. As for Travis and Asim, they were arrested without charges, therefore the team was limited to holding them for 48-72 hours before they were forced to be released.
It wasn’t an issue to Erwin, who simply wanted to determine if their involvement in the museum warranted further investigation, yet he did find it interesting that neither asked for a lawyer. Perhaps, it was due to not being officially charged and they feared it would make them look guilty if they requested one. Smart kids to play up a bluff. Then again, Erwin couldn’t help but think that it was a tad too strategic of a move than most college students would make in their situation; a conscious, educated dismissal of having legal assistance. And it wasn’t only Travis and Asim who refuted one, but also Eric. If anyone should be crying out for a lawyer and refusing to talk, it was the him.
The situation intrigued Erwin as he continued to survey the subjects over the hours. It wasn’t until Asim let something slip when he thought he was alone in the interrogation room that reinforced Erwin’s doubts in their innocence.
The moment came when Asim uttered a simple curse to himself as he buried his face in his hands; damning Eric for getting them into that mess. What was interesting that the cause was not because of the shooting, as Erwin suspected. No, Asim believed it had something to do with equipment failure.
Odd, considering he couldn’t see where equipment came into play at any point of their questioning.
Deciding to linger in the observation area in the chance Asim would verbalize anything else to the empty walls, Erwin eventually extracted himself to the next surveillance room where Mike and Nanaba were working on Asim’s companion. Inside the dim space, Eren and Jean stood, watching through the glass and only looking away to see who was coming in.
“Morning, chief,” Eren smiled, lifting a tumbler in salute. “I wish we’d known you guys were going to stay late. We missed all the action.”
“There wasn’t much action to be had, honestly,” Erwin smirked as he came up beside Jean after setting his nearly depleted mug on the table behind them. “Have they found anything else out since they came back to him?”
Jean shrugged with his arms crossed over his chest. “Nothing that links him to the killings. He keeps talking in circles. I’m still not sure I’m following why we’re questioning three human kids. The maulings were obviously wolven.”
Eren leaned forward so he could see Erwin around Jean. “Has Sasha or Moblit confirmed if the skeleton is Walsh?”
“Not yet,” Erwin replied, fishing out his phone from his pocket. “But running the different analysis will take some time when we’re missing the skull. There’s a high probability that any information they get will be insubstantial.”
“That sucks.”
“It does.”
“Well,” Jean started, “I still fail to see where these humans come into play. Unless-- do you think they know something about Walsh? Maybe helped him fake his death?”
“That’s a possibility.” Not one Erwin was keen to acknowledge, still finding the thought of an academic turning to violence distasteful and somewhat misaligned. But he knew he couldn’t, in good conscious, rule it out. “If Walsh did have an accomplice, it’d be ideal for it to be someone at the museum with access to the university.”
Once he finished typing out his text, Erwin sent it to Mike who sat across from the anomaly of their night. He watched as Mike discreetly reached into his pocket to look at the message before putting it away. It was probably an odd request to reapply some of the questions used on Travis and Asim for Eric, especially when he was never linked to the case to begin with. A simple misunderstanding of wrong place, wrong time. Until he fired his pistol at Erwin.
But something about what Asim said was tugging at Erwin’s attention. He wanted to know how Eric met the others and any recent projects he’d been working on, assigned or otherwise. Studying mechanical engineering was a far cry from sociological or biological-based specialties, so it was unlikely the others met Eric through classes.
Just as Mike started to ask his questions, the door to the observation room opened as Shadis stepped in. Beside him, Erwin sensed the younger members of the unit instinctively straighten their posture.
“I pulled some strings and managed to get Nanaba’s warrant,” Shadis briefed, not showing he noticed Eren and Jean. He was looking through the glass with his hands clasped behind his back, surveying Eric’s fidgeting following a question of personal projects. “But only for this gentleman. The judge didn’t believe we have enough validation to justify a search with Asim or Travis’ dorm.”
Erwin had a feeling that would be the case, yet he wasn’t as disappointed as he expected. Having the chance to investigate Eric’s room was suddenly an intriguing balm for the prior rejection.
“But seeing as Nanaba and Mike are busy here,” Shadis continued, “I’d like you and Jean to go search the dorm, Yeager. The sooner the better.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll get right on that.”
As Eren and Jean stepped around them to the door, Erwin turned to Shadis. “I’d like to go with them, if that’s alright. It’d help me get a better understanding of Eric if I could see his living space.”
“Denied,” Shadis answered, though it was not said unkindly. “I need you here, Smith. You’re one of the best at reading a subject’s body language or sensing deception. I want you to keep up what you’re doing in case anything gets passed Nanaba or Mike.”
“Hm.” Erwin didn’t have anything to say in response. Nothing nice, at least. Shadis made a valid point, but that didn’t make it any better when he was itching to leave the dark room.
“I have a meeting in ten minutes,” Shadis went on as he headed toward the door. Jean and Eren parted so their boss could walk through. “If anything comes up, you can reach me. I’ll have my phone.”
“Yes, sir,” Jean replied.
Erwin couldn’t help but notice the way Shadis refused to be alone in the same room as him since their last fallout. Aside from having Erwin come to his office to fill out the contract for the Cascade Butcher case, Shadis seemed to retreat before an opportunity could present itself. If he wasn’t so annoyed by playing the embodied 'deception-fishing-net', he’d find Shadis’ behavior amusing. But that was him being petty. Normally, he was above such urges.
Once the Director left, the young wolven took the opportunity to approach Erwin while he was in thought. “Is there anything you want us to look for when we go? Anything you’re suspecting from Eric?”
Erwin felt appreciation curling the corner of his lips in a strained smirk. “Actually, yes. Look for equipment, something related to engineering or mechanical parts. You’ve been on this case since the beginning, so you’ll know what to keep an eye out for.”
“You got it!” Eren grinned. “We’ll send you updates while we’re there. Same phone number?”
“Same one,” Erwin confirmed, pleasantly surprised to find Eren’s chipper attitude contagious despite the coffee failing to kick in.
“Time to mount-up, Jean-boy,” he teased as the young reaper opened the door to let them out. “Or well, I suppose the horse doesn’t do any mounting, huh?”
Eren’s comment earned him a punch to the arm, but any biting retort from Jean was muffled as the room was closed off once more.
***
The following hours were much the same and, unfortunately, ticking down for their allotted custody of Asim and Travis. Nanaba and Mike would shuffle from one room to the next, while Erwin would linger behind for a few minutes before following. They took a break for lunch, using the opportunity to summarize all the answers they’d gathered and sketch a timeline to compare stories. Then it was right back to questioning.
Only this time, the Zacharias’ started to add pressure.
It began with asking each student for another narrative of events to determine how skewed the details became in their recount from the first time. To make matters particularly difficult for potential liars, the open-ended questions were phrased in a way that forced the subjects to retell the events in reverse order. Over-embellished, chronological summaries usually fell apart at the seams during such interview practices using PEACE methods. The results spoke for themselves.
The clock was just ticking into the 18th hour of custody when red flags started to present. The first was when the observation room opened to reveal Eren and Jean having returned. Cradled in their arms were plastic bins filled with various sized evidence bags and flinty expressions.
Foregoing any usual greeting, the young members gestured to Erwin with their chins to come closer as they set the containers on the table to start sorting. One bag followed by another was placed on the metal top, while they sent a few glances behind the consultant to the interrogation room.
“How’s the interviews going?” Eren asked.
“Eric became taciturn after they started to add pressure. Travis has proven more emotional and is starting to flounder.”
“Good. If they’re hiding something, we’ll need a reason to detain them longer.”
Erwin didn’t get a chance to reply as Jean interrupted.
“Sorry about bringing all of this in right now,” Jean apologized, though it felt empty and insincere. “It would’ve been better to do this in the bullpen with proper light or in the forensics lab, but we really wanted you to take a look at what we found.”
“I’m intrigued,” Erwin admitted, eager to see the apprehended treasure of Eric’s dorm. “Talk me through it.”
“The place was the typical mess you’d expect of a college kid. Three students deep per dorm. The living area and kitchen provided questionable amounts of alcohol and weed, and we were limited to checking communal spaces and his personal room. There was only one of Eric’s roommates there when we showed up and he claimed he didn’t know whose weed it was when we found it.”
“Not that it really matters here,” Eren shrugged. “It’s legal in the state, so I’m not sure why the guy was acting like it wasn’t.”
Erwin had a good idea. “They likely partook in illegal substances and was hoping there weren’t any lying around.”
“Drugs aside, we asked him about Eric, and he was pretty forward with information. He told us that Eric and Travis would go out often and come back late the next morning. Said that when he asked where Eric would go, he’d say to a party or club, but the roommate didn’t always believe him, even though he does work at one apparently.”
“Why is that?”
Jean shrugged. “The roomie is a wolven. He told us that Eric never came back smelling like he’d been drinking. Was completely sober and sometimes smelled like disinfectant and motor oil.” He pulled out a bag, squinting at the label in the dim room before handing it to Erwin. “You said to look for mechanical parts. Well, there was a lot of these.”
Erwin accepted the bag as he fingered the metal contents out from behind the label. The evidence kit was one of GSIS’s larger sizes to fit the equipment, and true to Jean’s word, there were many. Some were smaller pieces that fit in the palm of his hand, others, the length of his forearm.
“We also found printed manufacturer schematics and some that looked like he drew up himself,” Eren added, fishing the contents from his box and handing them over. “We stopped at the forensics lab and Nile took a quick look over some of these. He was able to pull up the part numbers on those hydraulic pieces and confirmed they were sections of that manufacturer equipment.”
Erwin listened as he set the large tubular item next to the fabricator stack of papers. From the diagrams in color, the equipment was a specific model of hydraulic loppers. Something he expected utility foresters to use to clear branches around powerlines and Right-of-Way maintenance. “Gloves?”
Jean pulled out a box from the bin and handed it over. Erwin slipped them on without delay and extracted the part from the bag, laying it over the top of the plastic. He continued the process, finding an item that matched the schematics and set it aside. There were many items in the pile that did not belong to the manufacturer, and judging by the beads of the welded joints, he suspected Eric had fabricated some items himself.
“Can you hand me his personal schematics?” Erwin requested.
Jean passed it over the table as Eren picked up a bulky piece of steel asking what it was. Erwin paid little attention to Jean trying to match the item to the pictures, even as he found what he was looking for and naming it as a hydraulic hose swivel.
As Erwin poured over the elaborate and impressively detailed drawings, he was able to pinpoint which parts were cannibalized from other end items. There was a sprawl of notes on the bottom right corner, dictating which of the manufacturer’s hydraulics and accessories were necessary to use in conjunction with the electric motor Eric had crafted.
-System needs to withstand extreme pressure: Add pressure release valves, robust hoses.
-Double check fittings.
-Piston pump = better pressure control... don’t go over 1200 psi!!
- Formula: HP = PSI * GPM / 1714 0.7= 1200 * 1/1714
Flipping through the other pages that were less detailed, he discovered some jotted inspirational diagrams, primarily of larger excavating log grapplers. Giant steel contraptions used to move felled trees from one area to another or lift into a trailer, like a huge claw machine. Then, as he reached the end of the stack of papers, the schematics took on a more... organic nature.
It was a detail diagram of the anatomical structure of wolvens, both loup-garou and lycanthrope. Muscles, ligaments, and skeleton. The workings of a living, functioning entity one would expect to see in a doctor's office. The things that made physiology tic.
Erwin straightened while clutching the pages between gloved hands that crimped the edges in his distraction. The various personally designed diagrams lacked any clear end goal. Each section was a perplexing puzzle piece that could very well be for different projects or belong to the same. In most instances, Erwin would dismiss the evidence as unrelated to the case—especially seeing as Eric was an engineer student, which didn't match his profile. However, there was no explanation for the anatomical wolven chart. None that he could see that would have innocent intentions. Then again, there was one way to know for sure.
“Did you find a laptop?”
Eren blinked. “Er, yeah. We already dropped it off at the lab.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back.”
“W-wait, we found other stuff. Don’t you want to see it?”
Erwin was already at the door, clutching the papers in a firm grip. “I’ll take a look as soon as I return.”
Without another word, he left the duo and started toward the room holding Eric. While he was no longer an active agent, being a consultant allowed occasional privileges of interviewing subjects. Occasional, as in under certain circumstances. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, there was the pesky, unspoken rule that he needed to be accompanied by an agent or full-time employee during questionings. In that instance, Erwin made the executive decision and decided it warranted a ‘seek forgiveness rather than permission’ approach.
Not bothering to knock, he helped himself into the room, letting the door swing shut with a bit more force than necessary. Eric jumped at the sudden intrusion, a violent flinch before he masked it behind a disgruntled scowl. Undeterred, Erwin strode to the opposite side of the table slapping the papers down between them, causing some pages to slip off the stack. Eric’s attention dropped to the diagrams, then pinged up at Erwin only to find the reaper bracing his hands on the table to lean closer. He refused to sit. Refused to get onto Eric’s level.
He didn’t want the interaction to be confused with a conversation.
“Found some interesting hobbies of yours, Eric. Mind telling me about them?”
The young man swallowed, throat bobbing as he tried to redeploy his prior indifference. But Erwin wasn’t willing to relinquish any ground gained from rattling the kid.
“What are these for?”
“Th-there just school projects, man.”
“All of them?”
“Yeah.”
“Not at all part of some personal project you’ve been tinkering with during your late-night jaunts to supposed clubs?”
Eric opened his mouth and closed it, gaping like a fish struggling to push water through its gills as nothing came out.
Erwin tilted his head, staring the man down as he lifted a brow. “I’m not hearing an explanation.”
A shadow came over Eric. An awareness returning as he clamped his mouth shut and lifted his chin defiantly, though his expression was borderline blank now. It was the same practice motions he used when Nanaba and Mike started to pressure him. A crafted response that hinted to a mind with excellent control over emotive reactions. It was a sign of high self-awareness which meant a likelihood for a penchant in manipulation.
“You may not be aware of this,” Erwin continued, not showing any opinion on Eric’s weak display, “but your companions have more sense to them then you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means they aren’t letting their frail egos get in the way of self-preservation. In fact, they’ve told us a few interesting things so far about you. Not enough for anything substantial yet. But then again, I bet Travis and Asim were hoping we wouldn’t find the equipment you’ve been building. Or find the evidence of your failed project.”
Erwin had to give the kid credit; he maintained his aplomb demeanor after dangling the bait. But it wasn’t as foolproof as he probably hoped. The way Eric’s eyes darted frantically between Erwin’s own, trying to identify a ruse. Just the mere hope the student had for such a disingenuous notion was enough to validate Erwin’s suspicions that he was on the right track.
Reaching across the table, he pulled the bulk of the papers away, leaving the drawing of the wolven anatomical chart directly in front of Eric.
“Mind telling me why a human engineer student would be interested in wolven physiology?”
Hovering mere feet away provided Erwin with a literal front row view of Eric’s changes in manner. The point-blank question while simultaneously delivering the hard evidence certainly had the broody engineer shoved on his back foot. Functional arousal as a result was easier to pick up when he wasn’t lurking in another room.
Eric subtly leaned against the back of his chair as if he was barely able to stop himself from scrapping the legs back against the concrete floors. His eyes widened, brows pinched barely a centimeter lower, and his chest started to fall shallow in quiet breaths.
“You have a chance to get ahead of this. If we find out that you’ve been involved in any way in the series of killings or the theft of wolven skulls, you’ll take the brunt of the punishment. If Travis or Asim talk first, there won’t be anything we can offer you for a plea deal.”
Eric didn’t meet his gaze, but he did shove the paper across the table at him. Bold.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You sure you want to take that route?”
His eyes flicked up to meet Erwin’s and he got a sense he was looking at pools of oil. Dark, slimy, and toxic. An affinity for violence and aggression and control. Incredibly clever to earn a scholarship for engineering at one of the oldest universities on the west coast. And most of all, a human who glared at the reaper standing over him like staring Death in the face was nothing more than a cafeteria spat.
“Fuck you! I didn’t do anything.”
“Why are you studying wolven anatomy?”
“My roommate is a wolven. I was just curious how we differed is all.”
A blatant lie. But a good one to use as a placeholder for the truth.
Erwin smirked frostily, scooping the papers up.
“If that’s the story you’re sticking with...” He straightened and tucked the pages beneath his arm, “then I’m sure you won’t have regrets with what comes next.”
Without sparing another word, or glance, he left the room as suddenly as he came, leaving behind nothing but the cold finality of their interaction and silence.
When Erwin returned to the observation room across from Travis, he was unexpectedly met with Nanaba and Mike waiting with the younger members, each going over the evidence from the bins. Upon his entrance, all the attention snapped to him as he shut the door with more care while Nanaba approached, looking severely displeased. Despite being a couple inches shorter, her reprimanding glare still made him shrink a little internally. Reapers knew just how to elevate their presence to be the epitome of intimidation. With that in mind, he attempted to reassure himself that this was a case of Nana’s bark being worse than her bite—although that rule was not undeviating.
“You should’ve messaged one of us to go with you.”
“Do you no longer trust my interrogation techniques?” he replied ruefully, knowing the joke would likely fail to hit its mark.
“That’s not what it’s about and you know it. Shadis will be on my ass if he finds out you interacted with our subjects without an agent present.” She paused, dragging her gaze in an evaluating gesture over his figure. “What did Eric say?”
“Are you done lecturing me already, Nana?”
“Shut up, Erwin. I’ve been playing mind games with three, practically, adolescent beings who think they’re clever with their lies. I don’t need your bullshit sarcasm. What did he say?”
Erwin handed the papers over to her once he confirmed she had latex gloves on. “He said he had the wolven chart because of his roommate being one. It was obviously a lie and he’s hiding some incriminating details, if I had to put money down. He’s decidedly taken a vow of silence.”
Mike leaned against the table, shooting him a nod. “That figures. We suspected we were starting to sink our hooks into a real lead for once, especially after Eren and Jean apprehended this. Take a look.”
Erwin stepped around Nanaba, who was too busy scanning the documents, to see what Mike held out. Accepting the zip lock bag, his brows lifted as he jerked his attention to Eren and Jean. The bulky, oversized cylindrical pen was lighter than he expected. The hardware at the back of the contraption was wrapped in rubber bands and he could see where a cord attachment would go in.
“This came from Eric’s room?”
“Yeah. That’s what I was trying to show you before you left,” Eren explained. “His roommate said Eric started tattooing a few months ago. That was in his closet.”
“Unfortunately, the needles we found were all in sterilized packs—I mean, I guess that’s a good thing, actually—but you know, for forensics...” Jean rattled.
Mike elbowed Erwin to get his attention in the dim room. No one was willing to turn the light on and allow Travis to see them gathered behind the one-way. “Want me to go with you and question him about it?”
“No. I left him just how I wanted. We need to let Eric sit unbothered with just his thoughts for a while. Let him question his friends’ loyalty. Besides,” Erwin made a broad gesture at the table. “We have plenty of evidence stacking up on him. We need to focus on Travis and Asim. Eric never had access to the museum labs, meaning one of the others, if not both, must’ve helped him.”
“Are we really thinking that Walsh didn’t fake his death now?” Jean asked.
“All of this is speculation until we can get the facts.”
“Well, yeah, but... If Eric actually is involved in the murders, I’m not seeing how, just yet. It's not hard to get a tattoo gun and a practice kit from online.”
Erwin shifted his weight to see Travis in the interrogation room behind the glass. His leg bounced uncontrollably beneath the table, a blatant anxiousness, while hands wrung together in his lap. The kid would occasionally rake fingers through his hair, revealing sweat-damp roots before reaching for the second water bottle that was nearly empty, if only to take a meager sip. It was done in such a way that told Erwin the motion was more to give his trembling hands something to do rather than to hydrate.
“That’s what I’m counting on his companions to enlighten us with.”
Mike patted his shoulder firmly. “Let’s go ask them, mate.”
Together, he and Erwin grabbed the tattoo gun, schematics, and miscellaneous parts to take with them. Once more, they declined the courtesy knock and let themselves in, though Mike didn’t stride in with purpose as Erwin had with Eric. It was a tailored approach meant to not overwhelm their twitchy subject.
“Travis, you recall meeting Erwin Smith?” he said in way of introduction.
The kid’s widened eyes met Erwin’s before looking away at the bags in their arms.
“Y-yes, sir. I remember.”
“Good.” Mike slipped into his previous seat, all comfort and grace in his practiced movements. Erwin helped himself into Nanaba’s chair, feeling the eyes of the team members peering through the mirror at his back. “Now, before we get too far into this, I should mention we’ve come across some evidence that is bordering beyond coincidence, wouldn’t you say, Erwin?”
Travis cemented his focus on a spot in the middle of the table, though Erwin knew he was listening intently. “That’s right.”
“Mhm.” Mike nodded. “And when we say evidence, we aren’t simply talking about proof that things are not lining up quite right with your story. No, we mean things,” he placed the hydraulics, followed by hoses on the table with a thud, “that are suspiciously in line with,” the stack of diagrams followed with the wolven anatomical chart on top, “the Cascade Butcher case.”
Erwin positioned the tattoo gun on the growing pile last. The cherry on top. The pièce de résistance.
The trembling began to wrack through Travis’ body, the stray strands of hair that were sticking up now quivering in the air. He continued to twist his hands together, wide eyes taking in the mounted evidence of Eric’s. Had Travis been oblivious to his friend’s hobbies, Erwin suspected these items wouldn’t elevate his anxiety. Not to that extent. It seemed the more tense he became to force himself to be still, the more his body retaliated and shivered.
“Now, there isn’t much secrecy to what the killer does to the victims to earn a title like ‘butcher’, so I don’t feel like I need to go into much detail. But you seem like a bright kid. I know you can see how this looks from our point of view. How Asim’s concerns for quote ‘equipment failure’ would look against your story. How it appears to us when we come to simply talk and you three run from us..." A carefully timed pause, letting the words settle in the kid's ears and burrow. "Murdering is quite a serious offense, Travis. That takes no braincells to acknowledge. But multiple murders, including different species... Now, we’re treading into treaty violation territory between our kinds. In case you’re not aware of what that means, I would venture to explain it as--”
“A plea deal!”
Travis folded like a bad hand of cards in poker, slamming a palm down onto the table like a gavel. The force shifted the contents of the evidence mountain, causing the tattoo gun to slide down. When neither Erwin nor Mike said anything in response, not even a twitch from the outburst, Travis lifted his gaze warily, recalibrating his tone.
“I want a plea deal. And. And my lawyer.”
Erwin laced his fingers together on the table, leaning forward to mirror Travis’ posture. “Sure. We can get your lawyer, but we need some substance for a plea deal to be drafted. Some sort of reassurance of what it is you’re aware of.”
“I’m not—I’m not telling you anything without my lawyer.”
“You don’t have to tell us anything. That’s within your right. I’m just saying a plea deal is offering some sort of leniency for equal valued information.” He paused before asking slowly and jaggedly, “Do you have that kind of information?”
Travis cringed, breaking the short bout of eye contact to his lap. Erwin could faintly hear the click of nails scraping together beneath the table. The kid was doing all he could to not twist like a rope beneath the reaper’s leaden gaze. Of course, Erwin had an endearing knack, as Nanaba liked to call it, for always managing to work his foot in the door.
So, he gave a final push.
“We just need some reassurance you’re willing to cooperate, Travis, or we have no basis to start drafting a deal.”
Taking a deep stuttering breath, Travis met his gaze and held it, swallowing nervously as he did. “If... If I give you a name, will that be enough for now?”
“Whose name?” Mike asked, procuring a notebook from his pocket. “Another student?”
Travis shook his head; leg continued to bounce and rub against the bolted down table. “No. He’s, uh. Well, yeah, I guess he is, but he’s a vampire. Not one that’s in our circle of friends. He was... er.” Travis sighed, covering his face with his hands as his elbows kept him propped on the table. He looked like he’d collapse under whatever weight bore on his shoulders otherwise. “He gave us directions. Like-like a mentor. That’s all I’ll say about it until I speak with my lawyer. So... Will his name suffice or not?”
“It will. Tell us who this mentor was, Travis.”
Retracting his hands, he visibly slumped in on himself, fully resigned.
“His name’s Colt Grice.”
***
Fuck, fuck, fuck—fuck!
What was she thinking?! Since when did she ever go out alone without telling someone where she would be or when she expected to return home?
It was the golden rule drilled into her by her dad after she was sent off to college. And now that she was graduated, had a steady job, and living as that strong, independent woman he could be proud of, she thought she didn’t need to rely on silly little check-ins. Admittedly, she did it more out of habit than anything. Had it been any other day, she would have done it, too--which made her situation all the worse. She would’ve called or texted her roommate, Melany, and told her she was going on some date that she matched with on her app.
But as it happened, Melany just had to piss her off by not soaking the dishes after managing an impossibly stuck, baked on cheese ring around her Pyrex. How many times had she told her to soak the dish, so it’d be easier to clean? Pyrex wasn’t fucking cheap! So, after an avoidable confrontation, Sam made the poor decision to take up the offer to meet a guy without saying another word to Melany. After all, blowing off some steam was just what she needed, and it was only a harmless dinner date.
Until it wasn’t.
She didn’t even make it out of the parking lot when he met her. After the brief introduction and her too wobbly smile, given her sour mood, he began to lead her towards the bar when a dampened cloth smothered her nose and mouth.
Sam couldn’t remember anything substantial from her first interaction with chloroform, aside from hands grappling at her blouse and the smell being sweeter and rather pleasant than what she assumed. The movies always made it seem like its odor would rival that of bleach. Hell, she didn’t even register that it was chloroform until she considered there was no other reason for them to use a cloth. Just seconds before consciousness abandoned her, Sam’s stupid brain wondered if anyone ever made a chloroform candle.
Yeah, not her brightest moment.
Really, she should scrap the whole night as a dud and bury it in the deepest recesses of her mind—so far that even her therapist couldn’t unearth. Yeah, that sounded like a healthy way of coping with that trainwreck of a night.
Sure, Sam--you stupid idiot. You just have to get out of here first before you sabotage your chances of moving past this traumatic shit show. Dad’s going to kill me!
Despite her efforts to mentally downplay her situation, she was truly, and utterly, terrified. Right before she blacked out, she realized that the man she was meeting—Bertolt, her hazy mind supplied—was not human, but a vampire. The hissed warning to not scream and claws digging into the meat of her arm were enough clues for that identification. His online profile definitely said human. She was sure of it. She had an extreme and irrational case of hemophobia, so it wasn’t like she set the parameters to be a bitch. Sam just figured it’d be rude as hell if she freaked out and became nauseated anytime the guy had to eat. No one wanted to date someone who dry heaved every time you ate. Talk about unattractive and hurtful.
But that was beside the point. She needed to focus on her circumstances, not try to validate her dating parameters to sound less like a heartless tart.
What was going to happen to her now? Was this just a stupid prank from some college friends? Were her captors real and were they going to-to drink from her and send her on her merry way? Or did something more sinister await her?
“Please...” The word felt so heavy on her tongue, slurred and pushed out by her frantic breaths. “Please... let me go.”
There were two people dragging her along. She was missing a shoe and had a sack over her head. It was rough like burlap. Stunk of dirt and mildew. The material was coarse enough to see halogen lights through but no details. Just bright smudges, and two hulking shadows on either side before dimming. The pattern repeated and she suspected they were hauling her limp body down a corridor with commercial industrial lights leading the way.
“What do you--want with me?”
She felt dizzy, despite simply hanging there. Gravity seemed like it shifted completely within her core. Truthfully, Sam couldn’t be certain if the people holding her were keeping her grounded or the cause of the floating sensation. Whatever was happening, she wanted to purge her stomach. A wave a nausea washed over her, and she felt saliva dribbling from her lip, causing the stuffy air in the sack to moisten. The top of her right foot burned, and the sock felt damp. She hoped it wasn’t blood. Please be from a puddle or anything else, but blood.
The movement--forward or upward, she honestly couldn’t tell--halted abruptly. Even dangling like a rag doll, Sam struggled to adjust herself, trying to shuffle her knees beneath her to take some of the weight off her shoulders. A brisk shake from the person on her right curbed any further effort.
Resigned to cooperating and playing nice until the dizziness ceased, she couldn’t stop herself from stiffening when a third stranger approached. The sound of unmistakable heels did not resonate like fashionable stilettos, but rather the sharp clips of a fine leather shoe with beveled soles. When the sound cut off, the hall or wherever she was in, flooded with nothing but the hungry gasps for oxygen. She hadn’t realized how frantic her breathing was until she was no longer moving, and the material in front of her face pulsed with each rush of air.
The man holding her right arm adjusted his hold to free a hand, grabbing the top of the burlap bag and ripping it off. In the hasty movement, he pinched a portion of her hair with it, leaving her scalp singing with a fresh ache. Sam blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the environment, the strangers, and any further threats. Or that was the plan. Like an endless void, sucking in anything orbiting in its atmosphere, her attention was magnetized onto the man in front of her.
Flaxen hair stretched just past his shoulders in silk smooth fashion along with a meticulously trimmed beard. The combination created a mix of regal and rugged with his strong jaw and impenetrable gaze. A fine bespoke suit clung to a fit frame, and she couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t even have a single strand of shed hair on it. Pristine in every way.
The man’s attention wavered between assessing, with eyes raking over her, and disappointment. Sam didn’t know if she should feel indignant or ashamed outside of her fear. It truly was a puzzling experience.
After what stretched like eternity of the sophisticated man measuring her with his gaze, he reached out and gripped her jaw, tilting her head side to side. Looking for who knows what, but nerve quaking all the same.
“So far, this one seems fit enough. An improvement from the last one,” he spoke, accented voice modulated and words spilling out laxed and unrushed. It wasn’t the sort that implied laziness, but rather weighed with wisdom. Each word served a purpose. “Well, who’ll give me the overview?”
Overview?
The man holding her left arm cleared his throat before diligently reporting what sounded equivalent to memorized lines.
“29 years old, 135 pounds, and ran track in High School. No major illnesses or health concerns. Only goes out to eat three times or so a month, and it’s at sit-down restaurants rather than fast food. She does drink the occasional beer and white wine, but we’ve not seen evidence of hard liquor, my Lord.”
The more he talked, the further her mouth dried out. Just what the fuck? Who were these people? Had they been stalking her the whole time? Wait—were all these men vampires?!
This wasn’t good. She really stepped in it this time.
Sam tried to pull her head away, but sharp nails burrowed into her cheeks. “Please—you don’t have to do this. I won’t say anything about what’s happening, I swear. Just, please let me go.”
The elegant stranger—vampire—watched her with a blank mask. Hollow and unmoved by the tears beginning to streak down her face, collecting on his fingertips.
“How many calories are we expecting for yield?” he asked, not looking away from her while addressing the men.
“Our calculations of her BMI at estimated 84-88% leanness, is approximately 138,000 calories. That’s subtracting bone mass from 135 lbs. and consolidating everything else.”
Bone mass? BMI? Were they... were they talking about eating her? No-no-no-no. They were vampires. They drank blood. What the fuck was going on?!
“Wh-what’s happening? Why am I here? What are you going to do with me? Please! If you want money, I have it! I have it, I swear! My-my dad—he’ll pay you whatever you want—”
“Hush,” he reprimanded, something dark surfacing just below his poised mask of indifference. “Do not be rude, little victual, or you’ll find my generosity of allowing consciousness to come to an end.”
When she remained silent, out of icy terror rather than obedience, he nodded at the men to continue.
“We calculated enough mass to suffice for 7 days. But most will need to be stored if you wish to preserve it that long. Unless you want him to do it in the Oubliette where the temperature is cooler, then we can wait up to 10-12 hours before needing to extract it. Anything less in his usual room will spoil beforehand.”
The man finally released her jaw and rubbed the hand over his trousers, as if wiping off filth. “No, he’ll stay where he’s at. If I place him in the Oubliette, he’ll disregard his gift like the spiteful and thankless hellion he is. I’m not anticipating any grand changes in his demeanor now, but I know he’s amendable in his current room.” His eyes landed on her momentarily, no more impressed than when he first saw her. “She will do.”
A broken sob slipped free as the man turned on his heels, flaxen locks lifting up from the motion, and strode further in the corridor. The men followed without further prompting, dragging her along. She tried to kick her feet under her, but they still refused to cooperate. The effort it required to just break free of their hold was a tall order. If she succeeded there, then what was the plan beyond that? Sam may have run track in High School, but that was a far cry from her stamina now.
How long was she out after the parking lot? Where the hell was she? And did her father know she was missing? These were the questions she wanted answers to. Any kind of substance to help her plan an escape once she was out of their grasps.
Eventually, the hall ended at a steel door that a fourth man stood guard of. Upon a respectable nod to the lord, he opened the reinforced entrance to allow them in, never once even meeting her pleading eyes. The room she was hauled into was dark and cold compared to the hallway. In fact, the difference from lifeless, whitewashed walls and halogens in the corridor was jarring when compared to the grim, dark, and drafty room.
The chamber was large enough to fit a public pool in, with three spacious prison cells on one side. Iron bars lined the length of the rectangular area, and each cell was segregated by a wall of impenetrable cinderblocks. She couldn’t see how deep the prisons were, a murky blackness obscuring anything outside of the lights that illuminated the walkway. But she could hear the occupants--could hear movement scuffling across the concrete floor, the burdensome chain grating and chiming against stone, intermixed with the lord’s clipped heels ahead. Each sound was disturbing in its own right. Hell, they could be overlapped by dramatic organ music and become a playlist for a haunted house—yet something even more petrifying welcomed them ahead in the last cage.
The horror of the gnarled warbling struck her like a physical force. She thrashed against the vice grips, but the claws tightened roughly against her biceps. God—they were strong—she couldn’t get away. Her will, fear, and body were puny in the face of creatures so monstrous.
“No! Please!” she called out, little more than a desperate gasp.
She tried to kick them or hit them or even trip up their legs, but it was useless. As they arrived at the last cell, she felt, rather than heard, a deeper pitched growl. It was a low rumble that reverberated through its chest, finding perch in her belly. It terrified her and suddenly all her thoughts of fighting for freedom leached away.
Sam was frozen, even as her chest convulsed under stuttered breath. The trembling was no longer occurring, it was full body vibrations now. A plea or perhaps sob or even a scream had its hooks in the back of her throat, digging deeper the more she tried to swallow and dislodge it. And dammit if it didn’t almost break free when the man to her right murmured “Wonder when the last time he ate was,” because---oh fuck, why was this happening to her?!
“It’s been six days,” the lord answered casually, not a smidge unruffled by the unhospitable void behind the bars.
Judging how the captor startled at her side, she assumed he hadn’t meant for his boss to hear him.
Whether irate or not from the employee’s questioning, the regal man continued, “Six days isn’t a substantial amount for their kind. Wolves and wolvens are predators that evolved on a feast-or-famine diet. Three to five days of not catching a meal is sufficient for survival so long as their next prey is large enough to meet nutritional needs. If this one was in his human form, I’d be inclined to feed him more frequently, however,” he let free a breathy chuckle, bordering on condescending, “he stubbornly sticks to this shape to spite me.”
As Sam listened, her cognizant thoughts slipped into cold denial. The sort that she’d heard people with blown arteries or missing limbs from accidents would experience when they fell into shock; their brains conjuring illusions that they were home or talking to their mother to shield them from the reality of death coming to collect. She always imagined she would die in a freak accident or have her name drawn on an unlucky day under SRC and meet a reaper. But this?
What did she do to deserve this?
And why? Why was it happening to her?
The last thing she said to Melany were hurtful insults over a fucking glass dishware. And her father? What were her last words to him? Did she end the phone call with “I love you”? She had to of, right? She always did.
Oh, God. Please let those be her last words to him. Whenever he found out she was missing, he was going to be so devastated. It was going to break his heart.
“Do you want us to scent her, my Lord?”
The questioned snapped her back to the cage she was held in front of as the boss contemplated. His attention was entirely on whoever or whatever was inside the cell, yet she couldn’t see a single thing no matter how hard she strained. She could, however, feel its presence leaking from the black despondency. Like the change in wind that promised a brutal winter.
After a drawn-out moment, the man glanced over his shoulder at her, completely apathetic to Sam’s horror.
“Yes, go ahead. The fight is only a couple days away and he needs his strength. I don’t want to take chances with his delicacies.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Before she could make sense of what was happening next, her head was yanked back by her loose curls as the vampire on her left bent down and commenced lapping a warm, wet tongue across her throat. She feared they would bite into her at any second to drink and the thought of her blood leaking out of her neck made her wretch. In a delayed second of clarity, she realized that her fears pertaining to this was not going to happen. What the vampire was doing was not unheard of by human standards of affection, but it did serve a different significant purpose with their older species.
Because what had she learned in biology class so many years ago? It was strange to think of it now when she never had any intimate interaction with vampires before, but her brain settled on the fact of its own volition.
Vampires could not produce fertile offspring with humans unless they changed them during intercourse. On the other hand, they shared enough genetic data to affect one another through other means outside of that. One way that was done was by the venom and activators in vampiric saliva. In most cases, it was a coagulant to incite the dissolving of clots and allow steady blood flow for feeding while simultaneously numbing the bite area. Other variables induced arousal from pheromone chemicals that could be exchanged through the blood stream or by ingestion, such as kissing. And then there was the exchange of allomone chemicals through mating bites as each vampire had a unique scent that was too delicate for the human olfactory system to recognize. But amongst other supras it was noted and deterred any pursuit of their mates.
What they were doing now—this scenting—was covering her natural stench with their odor. For what purpose, she didn’t know. She didn’t get a chance to ask either as she was promptly shoved into the menacing cell where she crashed hard on the unforgiving floor. The dismay of her circumstances struck her anew as she pushed up off the ground and backed against the cinderblock wall in some illusion of safety.
“Come here and eat,” the well-dressed man cooed into the ominous void from the safe side of the bars. “I need you in top shape to settle this matter with Sannes once and for all.”
Sam tried to catch the oxygen leaving in short, clipped bursts as she clung to the corner of the cell with the holy splash of light. The vampire didn’t even spare her fear a glance. She truly was nothing to him. Every tear wasted, leaving her to drown in a fresh tsunami of helplessness. Every crescendo of sobs and wails went completely ignored.
He let out an impatient sigh when nothing came forward.
“In case you’ve got it in your thick skull to snub my gift, know that I won’t be supplying anything else until after the fight.” He turned and started leaving the room with the others, before calling out in what she recognized as a final threat, “Do not disappoint me.”
The door slamming at the end of the chamber sounded like a gunshot before everything was dunked into thick, clotting suspence. The other cages were deathly silent as if waiting to hear what would happen next. Alarmingly, the hair stood up on the back of her neck as she corrected her assumption.
The other occupants didn’t need to wonder—they already knew what was coming.
She didn’t dare take her eyes away from the resinous space of the cell. Something had been growling in here before and she couldn’t hope to know what shared the cage with her. Whose territory she was shoved into and ultimately invading.
Dense. Impenetrable. Damp. The smell of piss, feces, and some overbearing odor of rot hit her. It must’ve smelled her too.
In the depths of the gloom—no more than ten paces away—a shift in shadows. Something was watching her. Something huge.
She tried to keep her panic down, but Sam’s mind had gone white. Belatedly, it became apparent that she was hyperventilating as her vision began to shrink at the edges, and warm moisture soaked the denim between her thighs, puddling beneath her. Despite trying to breathe deeply, Sam’s survival instincts bulldozed any sense of embarrassment by simply keeping her still. The thought of running was wholly absent.
Don’t run.
Don’t scream.
Maybe it wouldn’t see her as a threat and leave her be.
A warbled, demonic growl culled all prayers in the next fraction of a second. The shadows stirred.
And out of the ink spilled forth bone white teeth bared in a gummy snarl, like a monster emerging from the endless depths of the ocean.
The scream she let loose had her head splitting from the high pitch. Simultaneously, the beast lunged across the meager space and entrenched those hellish canines around her throat.
All sound was abruptly cut off.
Notes:
TW: Gruesome details that no one asked for.
Victual: something procured for suitable food and nourishment.
In case you’re curious. Yes.... I did the math of how many calories a human body would supply for our villain here, as well as how many meals a timber wolf could eat per the calculations... Not sure how I feel about knowing that now, but if you’re reading this chapter—congrats! Now you know as well. AND you didn’t have to create a very questionable search history to get to this point. 😅 That’s winning in my book! Clearly, I’ve watched Hannibal too many times.
Anyway, thank you so much for the kudos, comments, and just reading Aconite Tea in general. It really means a lot to me and many other writers when someone takes the time to see their work. I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter Text
***
As anticipated, there were not enough substantial findings on the skeleton to be certain it was Julian Walsh. A possible crooked joint here from a broken finger, a hairline fracture along the radius. What showed up on human x-rays looked shockingly different in wolven form. Fortunately for the team, there were other ways to get the answers they needed.
Plea deals were drafted. One for Travis, the other for Asim. A legal promise that in exchange for no contest, they’d get concessions from the prosecutor.
As it happened, the death penalty was off the table despite treaty agreements being violated. The only fortunate factor the kids had going for them were the clauses in the Foedus Aequum of 1848, where GSIS would carry out swift gleanings of those guilty parties who crossed such boundaries. Had it been FBI or local law enforcement, there would be further hoops to jump through to ensure forgoing the death penalty would suffice. Just more bureaucratic paperwork and grimaced politeness afforded to rush it along. Therefore, signing the deal directly with GSIS cut down the nonsense in half, likely resulting in a lifetime sentence in a mortal prison as a worst-case scenario.
While Travis and Asim had their whole lives ahead of them with promising careers, prison or death were the reality they were faced with after the crimes committed. No amount of confessions would erase what they done. So long as the sworn in jury and the judge weren't overly lenient. Eric, on the other hand, refused to say anything aside from finally breaking down and demanding his lawyer. When his attorney arrived, the pattern of stingy answers and silence continued. Not that it mattered much. Travis and Asim (even under the guidance of their legal representatives) were singing sweet tunes to the team’s ears.
The new, substantial recollection of events began at a side gig for spare cash; working at clubs that specifically catered to vampires. College attending supras were usually better off financially, thus tips flowed like oasis waters to those living off meal plans or the multi-flavored ramen packs. The traditional bartending responsibilities then turned into voluntary feedings for Travis after he was approached by a few charming vampires. So long as it was consensual, both parties were in their rights to make such an agreement.
Many entertainment centers for supras craved willing participants as such, and it was even better if they were employees where the novelty came for an extra charge. Who could blame them? There were less overheads on the business to purchase blood bags for mixed cocktails, especially when the hematic market fluctuated worse than stocks. And, what’s more, Travis found out that the pay was substantially better when all he had to do was throw on a suave smile and allow patrons to have some freedom to his warm, pulsating blood. A win for everyone involved, so long as you weren’t fussy.
Asim wasn’t as willing a participant and spent his time bartending when one night, an attractive vampire was drawn to Travis. Eric, who was also assisting as part-time staff in the same club, saw an opportunity to supply the vampire with encouragement to pursue Travis, despite Asim’s disapproving glare. It worked like a charm. The vampire, Colt Grice, approached Travis and the two hit it off rather well, to the point that Colt became Travis’ main client.
The meetings continued for months, and the trio enjoyed speaking with Colt, unaware that the man was subtly grooming them as he slipped effortlessly into their circle. It started delicately with soft, educational driven debates of mannerisms between humanity and supras, then started to take on a biological curiosity, and finally onto the condition of superiority. Before they knew it, the trio were looking at humankind with a sense of mortification at how utterly fleeting and powerless their lives were.
“But that could change,” Colt cajoled, dripping honey into their ears. “All you need to do is prove you’re a predator at heart and that power would be yours.”
The promise of becoming; to leave mortality behind and be reborn into a vampire.
It was an attractive offer. A rare gift. One that a surprisingly few number of humans received despite what movies portrayed. For a coven to allow a member to change a human, there were grueling processes to appeal to the ancient council of the clan and prove they’d be a contributing member worth turning. That the reward outweighed the risks.
Such a prize was plenty to hook their willingness and do what was requested. To prove themselves capable of stepping out of the role of game and into the territory of hunters.
“Show that you’re capable of killing. But you may not use your traditional means of knives or guns. We do not debase our instincts to tools, so you shouldn't either,” were his initial instructions.
When Eric argued that they lacked the natural implements of vampires, Colt said that he wasn’t going to tell them how to do it. That was up to them to figure out an alternative. To prove themselves willing and capable of problem solving. Nevertheless, he could give them inspiration.
Photos were then supplied. Victims whose throats were torn out and bodies mauled beyond recognition. The polaroids captured corpses that were partially devoured by wolvens, per Colt’s explanation, which inadvertently spurred Asim’s vocal reluctance for the following two weeks.
Why did Colt have those photos and wasn’t that illegal? Who were those bodies? Would a search online show similar people marked missing?
In the end, all of Asim’s fretting fell on deaf ears and he, grudgingly, swallowed his rising concerns and kept his head down. While the level of carnage in the photos made them cringe, Travis and Eric justified it as merely the survival methods of predators. If they couldn’t achieve a stomach for killing, they’d never survive as fledgling vampires, so suck it up and get used to the butchery.
Thus, the trio plotted. Lacking claws and teeth meant they needed to find a substitute to inflict that level of damage, hence the desire to change degree programs. The osteology section at Burke Museum had a surplus of raptorial paraphernalia just out on display, an abundance from the tiny western pipistrelle bat skeleton to the prehistoric sabretooth. The most appealing of which were the various werewolf subspecies provided. All they needed to do was find a way to take one. From there, Eric would be able to construct a mechanical device to mimic the bite force of a wolven to make it more realistic. Murder was still illegal, after all, and they not only needed to prove themselves, but also avoid capture in the process.
The first murder was successful enough.
The victims were chosen for convenience rather than driven by pathology, as the team suspected. Eric had fastened the skull onto a modified version of hydraulic loppers, and they’d take turns replicating the shredding and tearing action until the person died of their injuries. It was a brutal and torturous way to go with no mercy in the victims' final moments. Despite Eric's expertise, after the third murder, the bottom jaw hadn’t been fastened securely enough and broke when they were killing their first, more durable, wolven victim. Having no other way to repair the original, they stole Walsh’s skull.
There was no rhyme or reason for choosing the gentle natured professor to vandalize other than convenience. It was out of sight from cameras and was similar size to their first skull they’d been using, so modifications to the hydraulics would be minimal on their end.
Upon their morbid murder exhibits gaining media attention, Colt gave them advice on how to proceed after approving of their method, thus they continued their macabre tour along Puget Sound. Perfecting it further and even escalating to a vampire at one point to prove capable of overpowering stronger opponents. Afterall, if they could take down an apex predator as mere humans, why would that not be proof enough they were ready to turn and join the coven. They thought little about the repercussions of killing one of Colt’s kind. It wasn’t like vampires didn’t kill their own if there was a chance to get away with it, especially between coven spats.
Much to their surprise and chagrin, Colt had angrily disapproved of their callow decision and threatened to take the offer back completely. It took weeks of groveling until he eventually forgave their transgression and told them to start elevating the murders. To prove themselves by paying penance for killing a vampire and get even more creative. That was what stirred up the seals.
When asked what the purpose of the evocation tattoos were for, Travis and Asim said they didn’t know. That was something Eric chose specifically to contribute to. They would ambush an accessible victim, take them to an abandoned gas station, and Eric would proceed to torture them with the sigil tattoos. He even added some ritual attempts before they put the victims out of their misery. Of course, nothing ever came from the rituals. They merely brushed it off as Eric experimenting to validate if witchcraft was real. As far as they were aware, it was bogus, thus sealing souls or summoning beings was nothing but a myth... Right? Alas, even at that point of the confession, Eric continued to keep his vow of silence on what his objective was.
In the end, they had plenty of information to charge the three for the murders and bring closure to families. However, the larger threat of Colt Grice manipulating them into the mutilations was not something to simply sweep under the rug. Direct line of involvement or not, inciting murder was a chargeable felony offense.
Leaving the processing of their guilty trio to Eren and Jean to oversee, the veterans of the team began looking into who Colt Grice was and his affiliation.
GSIS database had an internal link to both FBI and SRC systems, creating a broad triangular network documenting every registered citizen of the States. The reach was all encompassing; therefore, it was elementary to insert one’s parameters to see what emerged. As the big brother branch of supras, SRC had specific divisions within that were entangled throughout various U.S. Government departments.
The largest (and arguable most important) networking for SRC was the U.S. Census Bureau that dealt with ancestry, aging and medical advancement, international demographics, population estimates/projections, and migration. Other divisions such as the USDA and Forestry Service allowed calculations for the environmental services and goods predictions. Through statistics of populace and resource limits on the planet, gleaning assignments on souls were issued to non-federal employed Reapers to maintain natural order. Furthermore, SRC closely monitored the activities of their long-lived citizens to ensure laws were being adhered to and vampire turnings being timely reported. If not, details would be given to GSIS to open an investigation.
Thus, looking up a vampire named Colt Grice who attended University of Washington was not a stringent task. The picture that came up was of a physically fit young man with sun bleached-straw hair and strong jaw. He was well dressed, with a posture that was molded by years, even decades of applied etiquette with the natural line of his shoulders. According to SRC’s database, he was only 38 years old, though he looked no more than 23, and had been turned when he was in his late teens. In every sense of the word, Colt truly was an adolescent. Bright, too, if the curriculum of his Masters of Neuroscience was anything to go by.
According to the vampire’s records, he was in High School when his mortal family perished in a fire. Having gone out with friends for Homecoming, an electrical malfunction in the ceiling rapidly engulfed the house only a short time before he returned for the night. Neighbors had already called the fire department when he rushed into the flaming structure and didn’t come out, much to the alarmed shouts of the bystanders. When fire crews arrived, a neighbor alerted them to what happened, and one member immediately ran in after Colt. After careful navigation through the smoke, he found Colt huddling over his little brother in the kitchen and extracted them moments before the roof caved in.
Sadly, the night’s tragedy was not over and Colt’s brother, Falco, died enroute to the hospital. Colt suffered 2nd degree burns and respiratory irritation from smoke inhalation, but by far the worst was the unexpected loss of his entire family. Having taken pity on the valiant teen, the firefighter that pulled him out made some calls and was approved to turn the boy if he chose it. With nothing for him, Colt’s depression and disregard for his future allowed an easy bargain to be struck, thus he became the youngest member of the coven and adopted by his rescuer.
A touching story-had something not gone wrong to cause Colt’s rather abrupt behavior change. When looking into the vampire sire, further tragedy followed the boy. After living 13 years under the firefighter’s mentorship, he was found slain in the back alley of a bar and the killer was never found. A quick dig into the local police records hinted to speculations that it was a human that did it, as possibly a drunken spat or hate crime. With so little to go off from, it was inevitable when the case went cold. It was a sad reality of the world. Not every case would have an answer at the end of it. While the records offered more insight into potential motives behind Colt’s erratic exploits, it wasn’t the only cause for concern.
Erwin could feel how laden his gaze was as he peered at the monitor from over Mike’s shoulder. The cursor hovered above the affiliation like an ironic divine signal pointing at what their investigation had led to.
It was far from promising. Even a further stretch to say it was satisfying. Any building anticipation that brewed within curdled and turned sour in his stomach. The notion of tracing the tail of the snake to its head suddenly became a complicated nest of problems that Erwin knew would not lead to closure as they had intended.
The Tybur Coven.
Led by the renowned Willy Tybur.
The surname carried an iron weight in its simple two syllables. Aside from the esteemed notability, the implications of power stemmed from the archaic lineage that remained carefully exclusive for the sake of preservation.
Ancient, potent, and volatile.
That meant not all members of the Coven were linked by the Tybur bloodline. Only the leading family maintained their heritage as most anachronistic pedigrees did. The members were either descendants of branched families, or vampires that pledged their loyalty and servitude to the Tyburs. In the name of exclusivity, one did not simply get accepted into their community by promising loyalty alone. It was a grueling trial that required dedication and demonstration of their worth to gain acceptance. Alternatively, it wasn’t that unheard of for Coven leaders to be lenient on young fledglings joining, primarily because the laws dictated hasty eradication if they proved uncontrollable. A free pass to slay their unruly recruits. It established a significantly lower risk to the family than accepting a vampire transferring from an outside Coven, all while expanding numbers.
Apart from that, there were other issues that needed to be addressed when it came to Colt Grice.
He had reached the end of his residency as a fledgling after 15 years and was considered a mature vampire. As such, any misconduct reflected poorly on the Coven rather than the individual. Using that logic (as well as the authoritarian leadership Tybur was known for) Colt’s extracurricular activities must have been on the leader’s radar. Even if Lord Tybur was at the opposite end of the hierarchy pyramid, he had to be knowledgeable to some extent. Or there was a severe break somewhere in the chain of command, preventing intel from reaching him.
The notion of such a transgression was laughable to Erwin. Unlikely and preposterous for such an ancient clan. Add the media’s attention to the Cascade Butcher exhibits and it reinforced the absurdity of Tybur not knowing anything of Grice’s actions. Then, there was the question of the polaroids and how Grice came into possession of them. Were they his? Or did someone supply them to him, either within or outside of the coven? And who were the victims of the original killings?
“This is big,” Mike breathed out, an audible frown burdening his tone. “Did you know that Tybur’s coven resides in multiple states, and he has an international shipping company? The guy doesn’t know the definition of territory. I only know six other covens that have that sort of numbers and control in the States.”
“Damn,” Nanaba cursed. She slumped in the chair beside Mike, looking up at Erwin who was still hovering behind him. “You think the Coven Head knew Colt was inciting serial killings by manipulating humans?”
“It’s a safe bet he wasn’t oblivious to it. We’re going to need to investigate any reformative action taken within the coven for past misconducts. Regarding Colt or anyone else with similar transgressions.” Erwin pushed off the back of Mike’s chair, tilting his head side-to-side to work out a growing knot in his neck. “Of course, Covens govern themselves outside of the SRC and U.S. laws. We’ll need to go to the clan head to speak with him directly.”
“Fuck.” Mike dragged his hands down his face. “I hate talking to clan heads.”
Nanaba patted his shoulder to soothe his distress. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it.”
Mike scowled insultingly at her. “No, babe. I don’t want you going on your own to this pompous prick’s blood club. You know how I feel about these assholes.”
“I know,” she conceded gently, then panned her gaze to Erwin as she trailed off. “But I won’t go on my own. I’ll take Erwin, if he’s willing.”
Erwin nodded, not hesitating to think about his schedule or the inevitable headache such a trip would stir up. It was a necessity that he accompanied her, regardless of Nanaba’s Special Agent status or being a Reaper. Prestigious coven leaders were significantly older, cunning, and manipulative. Even if the odds of anything bad happening to a GSIS agent were non-existent, there were other games the vampires would play to humiliate them. They could be a petty, vindictive bunch.
Besides, allowing Mike to attend wouldn’t benefit matters either. While some covens were a pleasure to work with, others were a nightmare soaked in old traditions. Regardless of Mike being a legal wolven citizen—thus, having the same rights and privileges as other society members—proud elders continued to see him as an off-leash beast. Well-trained and obedient enough to have the illusion of freedom. They’d never admit to discrepancies in their coven to a wolven no matter their agency status. The only wolvens that would gain any noteworthy respect from coven heads were the packs that were as ancient and respectable as the vampire clan itself. And those were few and far between with territories they rarely strayed from.
“I’ll go with her, Mike,” Erwin promised. “We’ll only be questioning him about Colt and any knowledge he had of his lower ranking members. Nothing that’ll cause the family to retaliate.”
One would hope. Polite society came with a level of entitlement that could make a mountain out of a molehill.
“I’d like to be on standby. With the team,” Mike added.
“I don’t see a problem with that,” Erwin admitted, glancing to Nanaba, “What about you, boss lady?”
Nanaba huffed a sign, but didn’t look put off. “That’s fine. So long as you stay put unless we need you. Last thing we want to do is make the coven think we’re looking for a reason to pin them to the murders. It’s only Colt we’re asking about.”
“Speaking of,” Mike sat forward in his chair and started typing away, “we’ll need to bring him in for questioning. And then figure out where to meet Lord Tybur. If we’re lucky, you two can just show up at his place of business and talk to him there. He won’t be inclined to take offense if he’s in a professional setting with witnesses. His own home field advantage may make him compliant.”
“Hun, I think you’re overstressing this. Erwin and I will just go ask him a few things and that’ll be the end of it.”
Erwin appreciated her attempt to ease Mike’s worries, but he couldn’t help feeling they were validated. The setting didn’t matter much when Lord Tybur was, in a roundabout way, questioned about his knowledge and involvement of the butchery taking place. Or worse, the lack of proper control of his coven members. Both instances were bound to stir up a defensive reaction—Erwin was sure of it.
In the end, despite everything, he told himself he would attempt to be optimistic. Even if doing so never seemed to stack the cards in his favor.
***
As expected, optimism fell short of expectation.
The team had informed Director Shadis of their findings regarding the Tybur Coven, along with the next steps that needed approval. After countless warnings of ‘tread carefully’ and ‘don’t you fucking dare kick the hornet’s nest’, he relented to signing over another unit to assist them if needed.
The plan had been to split up, initially. Have Jean and Eren collect Colt for questioning while Erwin and Nanaba went to Tybur’s CEO office to interview him. Mike and Flagon would wait in the parking lot in case things turned dicey, but it was a waste of effort.
Willy Tybur was not scheduled to come in until the following Tuesday as he had made prior off-hour arrangements. The secretary didn’t elaborate what those entailed, keeping a tight lip despite the flashy badges, thus the rest of the afternoon was spent tracking and making phone calls.
For someone with their own dedicated paparazzi hungry for a chance to catch a story, the vampire was elusive when he wanted to be. Perhaps it was in spite of the unwanted attention, though proof of his smarmy Hollywood smile while rubbing elbows with elites were plentiful with a minimal online search. Going to the man’s home wasn’t a resort they wanted to take until no other options were left. There was a slew of Coven etiquette involved with doing so, which had a high probability of faux pas leading to inadvertently insulting the clan.
Fortunately, just when Erwin and the others were about to give up on finding him for the night, they caught an unlikely break. It came when they went to a Tybur owned warehouse to merely ask around on the off chance someone would have an idea. One of the employees, likely too low on the hierarchy ladder to know better, mentioned that there was a rumor that Lord Tybur was putting a dispute to rest against a rival vampire. When asked who that was, they said it was Djel Sannes from the Reiss Coven. Apparently, there was a festering debate over some port rights that were struggling to find peaceful resolution at the legal table. But no other information regarding location was provided.
Erwin and Nanaba decided to change tactics. If they couldn’t find Tybur, perhaps Sannes would prove fruitful. So after a few phone calls to members of the Reiss Coven, their efforts were triumphant.
He should have guessed that they’d end up here after hearing what the warehouse employee said. If clans couldn’t see eye to eye on matters in a civilized sense, then there were other ways to handle discourse that took on a creative nature. Dueling was a retired practice in the States since the 1870’s, but that wasn’t the only alternative.
Despite a second night in the week of clocking overtime, Erwin and Nanaba opted to go home and shower before returning in a semi-formal change of clothes. Even if they were here on GSIS business, being underdressed was not going to provide them any favors at the public venue.
Leaning forward to peer out the windscreen, Erwin gazed at the affluent French renaissance building. It twinkled with lavish exterior illumination, enhancing the masterful architecture with molded shadows. A doorman stood outside as well as a valet, but the reapers kept the sedan at a distance down the street. The last thing they wanted was not to know where their car was parked if they needed to make a hasty departure.
The earpiece crackled in his ear as Mike’s voice came over the channel. “It’s confirmed that the venue is supposed to be a charity event tonight. If what the warehouse employee said was true, then no one bothered to register the actual activities with the city council. Or the council just haven’t uploaded it to the site. Technically, even if that’s the case, then that still makes it illegal if they don’t have a permit on file.”
“Why would they not take the time to register it?” Nanaba asked. “It’s not like it’s difficult, plus it’d save on legal headaches if anyone questioned it.”
“There’s a chance it wouldn’t be authorized if the intentions were prohibited,” Erwin supplied. “Just because you can register combatant entertainment doesn’t mean it’s the norm. As far as I’m aware, more city members are denying these types of requests based on how inhumane it is.”
“About freaken time, if you ask me,” Mike grumbled.
Nanaba unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped into her dressy blazer. “So, how do we want to do it? Obviously, this isn’t Tybur’s event. He’s merely attending it. Not to mention, if these matters are only to settle differences, then that doesn’t leave much wiggle room for us. An unsanctioned, full fighting ring is one thing, but a single proxy fight is within their rights to settle as they see fit.”
An unbalanced justification if one asked Erwin’s opinion. Why authorize the risk of two wolven lives but anything more was an issue unless permitted? Usually, the events that got the ‘legal okay’ were the ones making false promises of halting the fights before death. Hard to prove otherwise if things got out of hand, especially when the rosters were filled with unregistered combatants. No one would know if they died or not.
“We can go in and gauge the situation ourselves,” Erwin started, “We’re here to talk to Lord Tybur, but obviously, if this is an illegal fighting event, we’re obligated to call it in. This is your show, Nana, and ultimately your call.”
“I’m asking your advice. What would you do to get the most out of the evening? Come on, I’m not too old to have some solid mentoring.”
Erwin’s lips thinned but didn’t purse. “If it was me, I’d prioritize talking to Tybur above stopping the fights. As cold as that sounds to leave the fighters at risk, if we act first on shutting it down, we can guarantee we won’t get any answers from him.”
“If either of you give me the word once you know, I’ll call in Flagon’s team for stand-by until you finish with Tybur.”
Nanaba nodded, then remembered Mike couldn’t see her from where he was in the SUV parked a block away. “Alright. We’ll do that. Erwin, if you’re alright with it, I’d like you to handle questioning Lord Tybur. I’m afraid I’ll just stick my foot into it.”
“You don’t think I will?”
“Please. You’re just as conniving as these Coven leaders. You’ll fit right in.”
The dry glare bounced off her cheery smile without causing a single chip. “That’s a harsh assessment, don’t you think?”
“Sure, it is. But it doesn't make it any less true.”
Erwin didn’t dignify it with a response as they got out and crossed the street. Together, they walked up the grand front steps, passing the doorman who opened the elegant arched entry for them with a deep bow. The chilly evening breeze gave way to a wall of tepid air and bright ornate chandeliers. As expected, the building was packed with sharply dressed attendees, however rather than partaking in chittering small talk, there was an overwhelming cheer being shouted from the crowd. It was enough to give the Reapers pause at the unexpectedness when they barely made it past the grand foyer.
Erwin and Nanaba exchanged a glance before slipping further into the sea of people. Charity Galas were not the sort of convention that allowed for the liveliness sweeping amongst the patrons. Not to the extent of roaring jeers in place of subdued claps and live music, all while holding stemmed champagne glasses between primmed fingers. Despite the unusual behavior, the historic venue certainly matched the criteria for fundraising with fine ambiance of wealth-soaked marbled floors and renaissance arches. Everywhere he looked was intricate vases with orchids and wispy twigs spiraling toward the ceiling, along with tablecloths spilling over the edges of round tables. They were surrounded by monetary perversions in every inch of the building.
Overhead, a balcony followed along all four walls with obscure stone railing, and regal banisters traced a wide staircase at the back of the room. The floor level had two bars on either side with mixologists in maroon pinstripe vests and satin ties, passing out drinks to the thirsty patrons, while tables of hors d'oeuvres sat along the walls.
Everyone was dressed up in a fashion that hinted at their societal standing. From business suits of the plebeian to the elegant, tailored ensembles of the affluent. A few wolven pets were in the crowd with the distinctive leather collars strapped snug around their throats. Some were reduced to being tethered with a leash as if they’d wander otherwise. Every one of them was in their human forms with heads bowed beside their owners who were distracted elsewhere. Around them, cocktail tables were speckled across the floor in no specific pattern, though it left space for the crowd that was huddled near the key focal point of the building.
No matter where one stood on the ground floor or the balcony, there was an easy view of the elevated square arena in the center, with its silver-plated chain link fence surrounding it like a mixed martial arts ring.
Well, that confirmed part of the warehouse employee’s story.
Usually with these wolven fights, where matches are laden by pricey bets, there was a concoction of hisses and cheers as the victors had come to pass. But this was something else entirely. Nearly each person was shouting and whistling their praise at the results while lifting glasses of blood-infused wine and cocktails. As if everyone had hoped for the same outcome and got it. Not a single person, apparently, seemed to care that in doing so meant their awarded purse would be void. They may get a small payout, but ultimately, they still lost financially. Clearly, he was missing something if he couldn’t understand the unity of the crowd with the fight results.
Nanaba and Erwin exchanged wary looks for the second time that night, seeming to come to the same conclusion. Without a word, they pushed through the crowd, curious what would have the entire room rallying in agreement. The noise of the masses rattled in his ears, nearly reaching decibels matching that of a human sporting event rather than a prim charity fundraiser. Allegedly, these were the members of society where propriety and gentrified manners were donned like fine silks, not roaring cries bordering on bloodthirsty crowds of a coliseum. He must’ve missed the memo.
As Erwin got closer to the arena, he could make out the gates closing behind a group of all black dressed individuals shuffling quickly from the pit as they wrestled someone away. In the middle, a sizable wolven—a hulking bipedal lycanthrope—lay unmoving and discarded in the darkening sand.
Erwin didn’t have to be a Reaper to know the humanoid fighter was no longer among the living. The way the motionless body resembled a stone, with massively clawed feet lilting to the side, was enough recognition for him. Even amongst the abrasive crowd, he could see it as if there was a neon sign hovering above the body. Lifeless. Still, that was not the only thing that had him pause, drinking in the morbid scene.
The wolven had sustained fresh claw marks, narrower spaced than that of a matching sized opponent would have dealt. Swooping arched imprints of a muzzle embedded below the ribs and just above the right hip, proof that the rival had successfully latched on to a vulnerable area. There was an unmistakable tearing and ripping action that flayed flesh from muscle and muscle from bone in a cocktail of savagery and desperation for a kill. The peritoneal cavity was perforated. A bulge of pink ribbon offal poked through the folds of skin and fur, like bubble gum trying to inflate. The intestines had nearly slipped free from the meaty housing, endeavoring to slither through the tear.
If he had to guess, he speculated the opponent was a loup-garou variant, which was equally fascinating and alarming. Between the two subspecies of werewolves, Lycanthropes carried the advantage in conflict. Being bipedal in their shifted form allowed them to fight readily on four legs only if they needed to, and they were known to be immensely stronger and larger.
On the other end, a Loup-garou mirrored grey wolves in form, although carried a size of 7 feet in length or more. They were restricted to an animalistic embodiment, thus severely limited in maneuvering when against an opponent that had the advantage of two legs. While Lycanthropes were ambidextrous and could manipulate a foe with their impressive upper body strength, Loup-garous were constrained to teeth and claws.
The lycanthrope in the ring had somehow managed to keep fighting without pouring out his innards across the ring. Perhaps the lucky attack was enough to tip the scales into the loup-garou’s favor and the bigger opponent succumbed to internal bleeding of a perforated organ. That was Erwin’s initial assessment, until two staff members returned to remove the body from the ring. Lifting the bulky frame up, the fatal blow became apparent and anchored Erwin’s attention like cast steel dropped into the sea.
The vicious penetration of teeth had sunken deep into the trapezius where the neck met shoulder, yet it wasn’t just the melee laceration from the maw that was unusual. The entire area was blackened and charred. Fur seared away, twisted and melted into a wiry bristled patch, and where the teeth sunk in, there was bubbled and boiled flesh. Pustulous even from where he stood. It was as if the jaws responsible were capable of injecting lava through their canines. What was even more alarming was the corpse having no traces of soul residue in the body.
Not a single granule or film lingered that Erwin could detect. It was as if the corpse had been reanimated for a fight, puppeteered but long since dead. No different than a doll, though this one would eventually rot and decay.
As far as he was aware, it was not possible for a body to have its essence erased so thoroughly—especially when the body was still warm and had only just drawn its last breath. Not unless it was gleaned by a Reaper, that is. Rigor mortis was farther away than the man was living and yet... not even a firefly flicker of spiritual residue in the husk. Fascinating.
“Erwin.”
Nanaba’s voice snapped him back to reality, unaware he was absently staring at the isolate splashes of blood absorbing in the sand. The rowdy cheers had tapered off after the corpse was removed, filling the room with tittering small talk. The ring master announced the following fight, but it failed to gather much attention. Whoever it was, none of the patrons were truly interested, still buzzing from the last battle.
Blinking, he looked to his left only to find Nanaba pointing her chin toward the balcony behind them.
Hovering over the crowd, Lord Willy Tybur stood before a modest group of gawkers along the railing. His focus was primarily on a fellow vampire who Erwin recognized as Djel Sannes from prior research on his whereabouts. He looked miffed as Tybur set a hand on his shoulder and smiled something that was meant to look apologetic. But it clearly rubbed salt in the wound instead as he regaled the fight they just missed. His mouth moved, forming soundless words that were lost amongst the crowd and distance, yet the group circling the man chortled at whatever was spoken.
Behind Erwin, he heard the growling of two more wolvens enter the ring as Nanaba leaned in to speak to him.
“I’m going to call this in,” she said as quietly as she could while those nearby were listening to the ring master. “If you wait, I’ll go up there with you.”
“No, it’s alright,” Erwin said, keeping his gaze on the lord socializing. “I’ll speak with him.”
“Maybe it’d be better if we both went. I don’t trust him.”
Erwin didn’t suspect she did. Having married a wolven and advocating for their rights made tolerating venues, like they were currently in, rather difficult. He couldn’t blame her for it. He too sympathized with the unjust cruelty being inflicted on the downtrodden. While he was unmoved by death in all its forms, he never developed a patience for other’s discourtesy in such acts.
Death was a divine function, meant to savor and respect.
Wolven fighting rings were a sadistic excuse for entertainment and nothing more.
Historically, the aristocrats would house and breed wolven fighters, taking them around the country for sport. Rome was the peak of that flavor of barbaric delight, which humans had adopted from vampires along the way. It was one of the few times that Erwin could appreciate humankind’s ability to make civilized adjustments, all while the so-called apex species were stuck sludging around old traditions and finding justification in their antiquated ways. He was grateful that he was born after the centuries when the coliseum was so popular.
“Go call it in. Don’t have them arrive right away, if you can help it.” He pulled his focus away from Tybur to the cage behind him, catching the beginnings of two lycanthropes circling each other. Thick, muddy colored hackles lifted along their wide shoulders; wicked teeth bared in a threatening display with claws outstretched at their side. At least these two seemed evenly matched. “Give me ten minutes if you can before they come in.”
Nanaba looked like she was ready to protest but bit back her retort. “Alright,” she conceded instead. “Good luck.”
With that, she disappeared into the crowd, likely to find a quieter spot to radio Mike.
Erwin carved his way through the swathe of people, working toward the staircase that led to the balcony. As he passed a cluster of patrons heading down, he overheard them speaking of the previous fight, not at all interested in the one happening at that very moment.
“I don’t know what Djel was thinking when he agreed to the terms. Lord Tybur’s fighter is undefeatable, and tonight just proves it,” a gentleman gloated with his arm looped through that of an finely dressed woman.
“That’s not true,” another man countered who trailed behind him. “I heard Lord Tybur’s pet lost twice before. One nearly killing him in the ring, but the runt got lucky that the other beast didn’t follow through. Probably because he thought the little thing wouldn’t survive like it had.”
Their voices trailed off as the distance grew, but it provided Erwin with a nice icebreaker for his introduction. He just hoped it wouldn’t be delivered as barbed as an icepick.
Choosing to adopt subtly, he picked up a small plate from the hors d'oeuvres table upstairs and filled it with a sample of fig prosciutto arancini and pimento olives. He suspected the food was accommodation to the few humans he sensed in attendance, though no other reapers were present from what he could tell. Erwin was certain he recognized the Seattle City Manager at the bar, and he doubt the man would care much for the vampiric themed drink menu.
With his cheap buffer in hand, Erwin languidly approached the thinning crowd around Tybur and Sannes. The latter man carried an exotic characteristic in his oval face and high cheekbones. His eyes were dark and hooded, lips thin and hair a pitch shade, giving his appearance as one would call granitic. It was a harsh contrast to the vampire beside him who radiated smug victory.
Lord Willy Tybur was a handsome man; it’d be hard for anyone to not look twice at him. Pulling attention and the occasional fawning of women, and even men, at social gatherings. In a way, he reminded Erwin of a lion. Not in the typical sense of his hair reminiscent of a mane—despite its length--but the predatory intensity behind the blue of his eyes, the unpredictability. Because that was the core of Willy Tybur: A high-socialite vampire with bureaucratic power and wealth on top of his deadly preternatural disposition. Domination was his craft.
Upon his approach, Erwin waited for the opportune time when there was a break in conversation and Tybur’s attention shifted to his new presence. Offering a cordial smile, he tilted his head in a mimicked bow, initiating a sign of respect.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Lord Tybur. Regretfully, I failed to arrive early enough to witness the fight with my own eyes. Word of mouth has it that it proved entertaining.”
Sannes squinted at the lack of acknowledgement, though Erwin was certain it wasn’t the first time he experienced being ignored during the evening. Taking a sip of his drink to hide his fractured ego, Sannes turned his head away from the conversation while Tybur mirrored Erwin’s plastered smile.
“That’s a terrible shame. My proxy is rather efficient when it comes to settling matters...”
It didn’t go unnoticed that Tybur immediately put forth the only legal protection he had for attending an unregistered fighting ring. So, that confirmed he knew what—if not, who—Erwin was. Regardless, he maintained the ruse, extending his hand as he filled in the trailing inquiry.
“Erwin Smith.”
Tybur’s eyes flicked down to the gesture hovering between them, then back to his gaze. A split second of rebuttal passed before he lazily accepted the hand in a simple shake, though the momentary snub was picked up loud and clear amongst everyone to witness it. Erwin feigned that he didn’t notice, wondering if Tybur would drop his guard if he thought Erwin was a gullible plebeian. Unlikely, but he wasn’t going to correct any presumptions the vampire made.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith. And what, might I ask, brings you out to such a venue? Are you here to benefit the Equinox Arts Commission in their endeavor to expand?”
It was a blunt attempt to catch Erwin in a lie, feeding him an excuse to bite on which Tybur would see through. Unfortunately for the vampire, Erwin cared little about the implications the truth had on their images. He could dangle the bait all he wanted, but Erwin wasn’t distracted by the falsities.
“I’m actually here to speak with you,” he gestured with the plate of untouched food, the other hand slipping partially in his pocket with his thumb hooking over the side. “More specifically, your respectable Coven.”
Sannes returned his attention to their conversation, scrutiny evident. “I’m sorry. Did you say your name was Erwin Smith? As in the GSIS Special Agent?”
“I’m a contracted Consultant,” Erwin amended, “although I do work with GSIS as well as other agencies on occasion.”
“But you were once a Special Agent,” Sannes continued to dig, demonstrating an unpredicted sense of loyalty to Tybur. “Am I correct?”
Erwin remained unruffled, even if his gaze took on an Artic chill. “Once upon a time. I hope you don’t hold that against me.”
“Are you here alone, Mr. Smith?”
The crowd of gawkers had enough sense to excuse themselves from the discussion, bidding quiet well-wishes to Lord Tybur before shuffling away. But not before Tybur added a fine veneer of humor about bad timing such as you might expect to hear at a cocktail party, similar to a host sharing an amusing anecdote. In his peripheral, Erwin tracked how Tybur wrenched on his aloof pleasantness. Doing so would likely limit unnecessary rumors otherwise from spreading.
“Yes, I came here alone,” Erwin lied. “As I mentioned, I’m merely a consultant and wished to assuage my curiosities on a case with Lord Tybur.” Shifting his stance away so he addressed the regal vampire head on, he reassured, “This is only an inquiry, of course. I would never intend for you to get the wrong impression and feel waylaid.”
“Isn’t that what your kind are known for though? Ambush predators that you are," Tybur quipped.
“Ambush?” Erwin tilted his head as invite for him to elaborate.
“Yes. Reapers stalk and lurk. It’s in your nature to wait for your targets to come to you or fall within your trap when you’ve manipulated the odds to your favor.”
“Is that how you view my approach as? Have I manipulated the odds?”
The subtle curve of Tybur’s lips sharpened like the edge of a blade. “You’d be so lucky to find me cornered.”
“Then I’m pleased that I haven’t given the wrong impression.”
“You mentioned a case,” Sannes inserted bluntly. “What would a case have to do with your... arrival here?”
Erwin pretended not to notice the fleeting side-eye from Tybur, as if he was willing to gloss over the reaper’s purpose for crashing their sport. Perhaps, Sannes wasn’t as loyal to the Lord’s image as he initially expected. Or curiosity loosened his tongue.
Below them, a subdued wave of clapping brimmed the lower level, snarling and gnashing of teeth simmering just loud enough to carry on the surface. Erwin refrained from glancing down at the ring, keeping his eyes on the two vampires before him. They would never be so brazen to openly attack him. Doing so on a reaper was practically a death sentence. However, even a hair thin fracture of distraction could tip the brittle obligated respect between them out of Erwin’s favor.
“I came to get a character reference of sorts on a member of your Coven,” he explained, not addressing Sannes. “Colt Grice. What can you tell me about him?”
“Surely, you don’t expect me to answer such inquiries here. That’s hardly what some would consider professional.”
“Prior efforts to contact you were made, I can assure you that,” Erwin retorted.
Tybur’s smile tightened, “Ah. And when those failed, you settled on ambushing me during a social event. How predictable.”
Right back to underhanded comments. Well, Erwin was nothing if not persistent.
Door, meet boot.
“The alternative would be another Reaper who carries a badge rather than figs. Call it an ambush if you want, I choose to classify it as a peace offering.”
“Peace, you say. Are we on the brink of war, Mr. Smith?”
“I’m sure you’d agree that war is never farther than a stone’s throw. Tectonic plates shift and discourse ensues. But,” he yielded amicably, “that’s not why I’m here. As I said, I’m interested in what you can tell me about Colt Grice.”
“Is he suspected of something or is this along the lines of a job reference?”
“Will the answer sway how you word your responses?”
“You should know I would never manipulate the truth and impede on a case with GSIS,” he brought the glass to his lips, but before he took a sip, he answered, “That’d be illegal.”
The taunting wasn’t appreciated, layered beneath cordial manners. Wielding passive aggression was a tiresome chore. It didn’t help that Erwin got the distinct feeling they were beginning a competitive game of chess.
“His name came up following some rather condemning claims,” Erwin relented a square on the board, sacrificing a file to coax Tybur forward. “I’m here to gain a broader perspective rather than favor hearsay.”
“Hm... Colt Grice, you said?” Tybur feigned thoughtfulness. “He’s among the youngest members of the Coven. An intelligent boy who is hoping to contribute to the financial welfare of the clan by becoming a psychometrist.”
“How is his standing in the Coven? Does he fit in well?”
“Since his rebirth, he’s proven adaptable and willing to learn. Mr. Grice has had no qualms with the adjustment.”
“Has there been any conflict between him and other members?”
“Not at all. He’s a respectable young man, Smith. There’s been nothing of ill behavior from him nor between clan mates.” He paused before tacking on, “If you’re implying otherwise, I suggest you speak to his mentor. I’m afraid I don’t have other information aside from what I’ve told you.”
“His mentor. The gentleman whose been helping him when needed after his sire was murdered.”
“Indeed. He’d be able to answer any further questions better than myself.”
A contemptuous curve hooked Erwin’s smile before he could tamper it down.
“Pardon me for having some doubts. You’re the head of one of the most prestigious covens in the country, and you’d have me believe you don’t know anything more than the boy attends university? Perhaps I was mistaken then. Either your Coven is not as exclusive as reputation precedes or you’re attempting a horrible ploy of candor.”
Taking a turn to rebuff the other, Erwin purposely dragged his eyes toward the fighting ring where the wolvens were in a gory scrap in the sand. They were waning between exhaustion and blood loss as they bit and tore into any part that they could reach. Meanwhile, the patrons watch on with a murmuring poise while sipping from their glassware.
“I expected a Lord as esteemed as you," he continued, "to not be ignorant to your members’ extracurricular activities. They do, after all, reflect on your good Coven name.”
When he returned his attention to Tybur, there was no trace of obligated pleasantries remaining. The vampire’s stare was utterly neutral despite the barbed attack. Composed in the same way that caiman infested waters could look unsuspecting and serene.
Erwin was feeling uncharacteristically reckless that evening. Choosing to poke at the surface with a stick to see what emerged.
“If you cannot answer for your kin, then allow me to take a different approach. Where were you last Friday evening between the hours of 5pm and 2am?”
Sannes’ empty fathomless eyes locked viciously on Erwin, undignified and held tightly. “Are you implying Lord Tybur would have something to do with your case? How daft are you, Smith? And to come here to insinuate anything of the sort—what’s this about?”
“I’m restricted from discussing case details, I’m afraid,” he answered easily.
Lord Tybur’s face remained marbled when Erwin slid his attention to him.
“I believe,” he addressed Sannes without breaking eye contact, “that our Reaper here is implying someone from the Coven is responsible for that man’s death last week.”
“Implying would mean I’m strongly suggesting there to be truth behind that. Which is not the case. Merely a harmless question.”
“Forgive my skepticism. Investigation details aside, the news stated the murder was connected to The Cascade Butcher. Likely a feral wolven attack. I harbor no beasts aside from what’s legally mine and, I assure you, none of them have been indulging in moonlit walks.”
“Yet it’s been established that you have at least one fighter that’s accustomed to killing--efficiently, as you put it.”
Tybur smirked, a cruel feature slithering across his lips. “Careful, Smith. You’re giving the beasts too much credit.” Erwin opened his mouth to retort, but Tybur cut him off by continuing. “While that’s not to say all wolvens are stunted by animalistic instincts, I know the beasts in my possession. And I promise, my fighters are not capable of following detailed instructions, much less obediently going on a killing spree across the Sound, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Perhaps you should consult with the WMC. They may know of loose or missing wolvens with a predisposition of violence.”
Erwin mirrored his smirk, though it was drier with his evaporating patience. The Wolven Management and Conservation agency would’ve been the first place the team had gone to after the brutal mutilations. It was an insult to suggest they hadn’t considered it already.
“Is this the part where I offer advice on how to run your Coven?” When Erwin received a glower, he added, “I assume that’s what we’re doing now if you’re suggesting how to do my job.”
“You have an inflated sense of importance, Mr. Smith. Unless you have reasonable suspicion for these intrusive questions, I don’t find your intrepid implications to concern me.”
“I can assure you; I have plenty of reasonable suspicion for my inquiry. The fact that you don’t have authorization for such knowledge does not change the circumstances.”
“Are these reasons of yours personal or legally justified?”
“I would never overstep my responsibilities to the point of making it personal.” Erwin tilted his head to the side, narrowing his gaze. “That’d be illegal.”
Tybur released a mirthless chuckle; a deep, condescending thing grating from the back of his throat. “My Coven is innocent from your hapless suggestions. No one is responsible for your little murders, Smith.”
“So, a few simple alibis should not be any trouble to supply then.”
“You think that just because you interrupt my evening and demand answers, I’ll roll over and comply? Reapers are the personification of engorged pride. Tell me, do you forget that like all creatures of Earth and Night, you too can die? Or does gleaning souls blind you to your own mortality and humility?”
“I suspect it’s no different than vampires, especially those that live as long as you have.”
“And yet you speak to me in brash disrespect. The pitiful thing about this is I’m sure you see your actions as noble in the pursuit of finding the murderer. Yet in your haste, you end up wrongly accusing my Coven of involvement. Well, Smith, let me enlighten you on what I see,” he lifted his chin the barest of centimeters, enough to peer down his nose at Erwin despite sharing similar stature. “A glorified flyswatter. A mere child throwing a tantrum to get what he wants, unable to do anything without SRC telling him when and where to swing.”
A sneer attempted to hook his face, but Erwin tamed it into a friendlier shape. “I’d rather be a flyswatter than a docile predator whose only indulgence is the prey who gives him consent. At least the power I have is still my own.”
Tybur’s eyes flashed dangerously. Face remaining impassive except for the shadows playing behind the gaze like the spinning torch of the lighthouse. A warning to turn back. Erwin knew if he moved or took a step away, he’d instantly be classified as a target to the accosted monster. There was no compassion in a creature as old and apathetic as Tybur. Any weakness Erwin showed would be a delicacy. Tybur would bask in it.
When Erwin refused to budge, the vampire knocked the rest of his drink back before placing the glass precariously on the railing.
“It was a pleasure to settle these matters, Djel, but I must be going. I promised Lara I wouldn’t stay out late.”
“Er, right. You said you’d have your lawyers finalize the contract?”
“Yes, I think that’d be best. I’ll be in touch when it’s drafted so we can settle these matters.” Turning to Erwin, his contempt was evident. “As I said before, you’re looking in the wrong direction for your killers. Confirm all my whereabouts with my secretary if you must. I’ll ensure she knows to cooperate. As for Colt Grice, he’s done nothing that these claims are insinuating. I’d appreciate it if you conducted yourself in a higher professional manner if we ever meet again.”
Without another word, Lord Tybur brushed past him, stirring a cold draft that penetrated the fibers of Erwin’s suit. The vampire’s soul was frosty in the vicinity of the reaper but as soon as he felt it, the sensation was gone.
Before he could contemplate his next move, he noticed the immediate movement of another vampire who was intermixed with a loitering group further away. The man hastily followed Tybur to the stairs, trailing a respectable half-step back. Erwin suspected the subordinate was Tybur’s guard or assistant, and it surprised him that he hadn’t noticed the man amongst the crowd prior. There was no doubt he would’ve kept an eye on his Lord for any signal in the event he needed to intervene.
Erwin tried not to let that thought bother him as he watched the subordinate lean forward to hear his superior while they marched down the stairs. Whatever was said had the guard pulling out his phone and making a call, while his gaze darted toward the arena. Erwin tracked his attention to the source, just in time to see another man answer their phone before disappearing on the other side of the ring.
Well, so much for not putting a foot into it, he mused while ignoring Sannes who griped insistently at him.
Placing the plate of figs on the railing, he hurried to the stairs, determined to prevent Lord Tybur from leaving. He could hear the radio chatter in his earpiece of Flagon’s team entering from the back and Mike at another entrance. If the agents could just lock down the building before Tybur left the premises, they may have a chance to get answers from the Coven before the vampire could speak to anyone. Primarily, avoid warning Grice that they were after him. But with how large the building was, there was a risk Tybur would go through another exit that wasn’t being covered.
Just before Erwin reached the landing, he continued to keep an eye on the vampire. Lord Tybur took his leave with not quite haste nor saunter. Weaving purposefully through the crowd like a snake through dry grass, camouflaged amongst the creatures of the night draped in fine materials. Erwin managed to keep sight of him until he too entered the crowd while another fight ensued; the attendees around remained unaware of GSIS breaching the premises at that exact moment.
Determined to follow the coven leader, he tried to peer over the heads of the masses, barely catching a glimpse of blond mane moving toward a side room. There was an increase in the man’s stride and Erwin wondered if he may have been alerted to the agents’ arrival since departing the balcony.
“Mike, which side of the building are you on,” he asked through the channel, already knowing that Flagon was at the opposite end.
“At the entrance--coming in now.”
“Nanaba?”
“At the back.”
Now Erwin was certain someone tipped Tybur off. As it happened, he was heading toward the only side alley entrance that wasn’t currently covered. In all fairness, Erwin didn’t know for sure if there was an exit in that section but suspected there was for the sheer purpose of recalling the alley when outside. Hindsight was a cruel mistress when he realized they were not properly staffed to fully surround the building.
Just as Erwin reached the discrete hall leading to the bathrooms and a lone staff door, a series of bellowed orders and yelling shattered the social gathering in the venue. Few people cursed, others screamed their opposition at the agents barging in. None of it mattered to Erwin who pushed his way through the staff door, finding an industrial kitchen filled with staff cleaning and putting ingredients away. Upon his entrance, everyone stared, but no one dared to question him as he found another door leading out of the galley.
He swung it out of the way, jogging into the narrow corridor with storage labeled rooms, and staff latrine. At the opposite end, he saw Tybur and his employee leaving out the side door with a glowing cherry EXIT sign over the top. Erwin wasted no time sprinting down the hall, hating that he hesitated at the upper balcony to keep the discussion drawn out just a little longer.
“Erwin, where are you?” Nanaba asked through the comms.
“Employee exit. East side of the building.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Tybur’s leaving. He found out we were shutting the place down and he’s making a run for it.”
“What? I’m coming to you!”
Erwin didn’t respond as he slammed the emergency exit open, only to be slapped in the face by the cold evening air. The alley was thick with a sour stench of rubbish, the ground covered in saturated papers and wrappers squashed into the concrete like mod podge.
At the mouth of the lane between the buildings, an older model Rolls Royce lingered as the employee opened the back door for Tybur. Just before the Coven Leader ducked inside, he paused and met Erwin’s gaze. Not an ounce of surprise was evident in the steady attention, obviously having expected Erwin to follow him out. Both knew that the reaper had no grounds to arrest the vampire—not a single viable reason to detain him that would hold up in court. Erwin truly was restricted to watching the man take his leave without consequence. After all, he managed to make it off the premises by every legal definition and had only been there for a lawful proxy fight.
Erwin had lost. And it stung his pride like a blazing fire poker to his ribs. To stand there in the dim alleyway with nothing to do but watch as Tybur laughed at him—fucking laughed—while folding into the car.
The door shut and the employee hastily packed himself into the passenger seat. No sooner were they inside did the car peel away, right as the door behind Erwin had Nanaba running out to join him. He didn’t look at her. Couldn’t tear his gaze away from the shrinking taillights down the rain glazed street.
“Damn it...,” she observed, not needing much explanation. "I see the conversation went belly up then?"
Looking in his peripheral, he noted her attention lingering on his right hand, fingers splayed wide at his hip and ready to summon his scythe. Chastened by his momentary lack of control, he fisted his hand before stuffing it in the confines of his pocket, as if it could hide is folly.
“On the bright side,” she continued when he didn't answer, choosing to watch the sedan disappear, “you didn’t actually summon it. Imagine the scolding Shadis would give you for threatening a coven head like Lord Tybur.”
The attempt at humor fell flat, especially when Nanaba’s heart wasn’t behind it. Joking aside, it was indeed a serious matter.
“The threatening was mutual tonight.”
“What?” she whipped her head toward him. “He threatened you?”
“Not in so many words, but it was implied.”
“What the hell happened?”
Erwin released a long exhale through his nose, having lost sight of the car in the mix of traffic. Catching Nanaba’s gaze, he read, rather than felt, how his composure was hardened. Blinking slowly, he took another deep breath, urging his posture to loosen its rigid form.
“I’ll explain later. We should help Mike and Flagon. I’d imagine they have their hands full.”
“Alright,” she relented, turning toward the metal door. “I’m certain I’ll be needing to make more phone calls for transportation. You sure you’re good?”
“I’m fine. Annoyed, but fine.” He held open the door that luckily hadn’t shut all the way, allowing her to step through first. “Tell me what you need me to do to help out.”
“Well, Flagon’s team will focus on apprehending the wolven fighters. There are quite a few here for entertainment. Mike will be working to get the ring master and documents of the fighters and their owners. I’m going to call Shadis and let him know we need more people. Get Jean and Eren here too. We’ll make the arrests of the owners, get the wolvens transported to some shelter facilities, and go from there. If you can help Mike pick the owners out of the crowd, that’d help speed things up. I have a tablet in my bag so you can match names to faces if any refuse to admit who they are.”
“Ah, the tedious tasks. I don’t miss doing these.”
“No, I wouldn’t imagine you would. Local police should be arriving any second though to help. And Moblit should be on his way, but he’ll arrive later than everyone else, I’m sure.”
“You’re planning to take the deceased wolvens back to GSIS?”
“Some of them,” she shrugged as they entered into the galley. All the prior kitchen staff were absent, having been herded into the main room with the guests for questioning. “Shadis has been keen to have thorough documentation of wolven fighting rings seeing as they’re becoming more and more frowned upon. If the event coordinator can’t get a legal permit for it, then he wants them nailed.”
Erwin felt his brows lift in mild surprise. “That’s certainly a development. He used to be flippant about fighting rings in the past.”
“Well, I think having heard his employed wolvens gripe about how fucked up it is, and your last nasty spat with him, he’s starting to see some sense,” she smiled. “Mike and I still think you should return to your active agent status and wait for him to leave his position. You’d be a fantastic Division Director.”
“You already know my opinion on that, Nana.”
She shrugged, unaffected by his dismissal. “There’s still time to change your mind. If Shadis can start to see reason, maybe you can too.”
“Perhaps,” Erwin mused halfheartedly, if only to appease her while they entered the main room.
The attendees were shepherded onto one side of the room as the Seattle City Manager argued with Mike, who was entirely uninterested in what was being said. Within the ring, the wolvens who were set to fight were absorbed by the events happening outside of their paired opponent, watching but not touching the barrier. He wondered what they were thinking as the agents rounded up the audience. Were they relieved for the brutality to come to an end? Or were they loyal to their owners and concerned about what would become of them? For some, he’d imagine surviving the ring, only to return to whatever treatment they were under would be worse than death, particularly with a cruel master.
As Erwin and Nanaba rounded the outside of the arena, his attention fell onto the discarded bodies of deceased wolvens. They were lined up against the wall, like bags of trash waiting to be removed. His gaze stuck onto the earlier lycanthrope braced haphazardly out of the way with the heated, blistering bite visible. Just as it was before, the husk of the corpse was parched of any trace of soul, as if irrevocably gleaned.
Erwin then realized that somethings were indeed worse than death.
Notes:
In Bloodroot, I found myself struggling to write Erwin's character. But this interaction between him and Tybur was such a blast to write and along the lines of how I imagine it happening if they ever sat at a dinner table in SnK. Very much a self-indulgence on my part 😁
Thank you for reading, the kudos, and comments!! I'm hoping the flow isn't boring you too much, but hey! We get an official (but short) intro to Levi next chapter! So until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 5: Choke Chain
Notes:
TW: Discussion about euthanasia and discrimination.
Also, this chapter is heavy with world-building.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
For the better part of two centuries, Erwin lived his life under the belief that hopelessness was not a reality, but a mindset. Having a mindset meant one was still alive. And if one was alive, then it wasn’t hopeless. There was still an opportunity to improve the situation.
As the investigation dragged on, however, he couldn’t help but wonder if his perception required some adjustment.
Shutting down the fighting ring was an all-night, multi-agency effort, and while intentions were good, it was not a bloodless task.
GSIS Civil Rights Division spearheaded the job of determining which wolvens were citizens, who had criminal history, and if there were any ownership records prior to the individuals being triaged for injuries. Those that were citizens were taken to the Civil Rights Division’s designated shelter for further investigation and a rigid psychoanalysis. As for the many others that were not citizens, not reported as missing from legal owners, or had no criminal record, they were sent to Wolven Management and Conservation shelters for rehabilitation. The few unfortunate fighters that did pop up in the system with convicted records had a one-way trip to the GSIS holding cells.
It didn’t really matter how the wolvens were divided. Every single one that Erwin saw shared the same look of misery and despair. Bloody, pitiful, eyes lowered, and coated in filth. Few of the larger lycanthropes were undoubtedly treated as champions under their owners judging by how they were fully clothed and carried minimal restraints. Not to mention, they were well fed compared to some of the leaner, willowy muscled wolvens that shared a gleam of madness in their eyes. The most disturbing of the fighters were those who were too far gone to realize the change of circumstances. It didn’t matter what or who passed their mobile cages, they lashed out in their shifted forms with no sign of cognitive function.
Mike paused on those the longest, staring at the maniacal beast trying desperately to reach him through the bars. Those who were too far gone would not leave the building alive—doomed by their survival instincts having too much control.
It was satirical. It was cruel.
But it was also their reality.
While some wolvens willingly sold their rights away into companionship and fighting rings, the majority were trafficked or ordered into the pits. These people never asked to be part of the bloodsports, yet to survive they had to shed their humanity, dip into the tar of feral impulse just to endure formidable opponents and live another day. All those battles won only to meet their ends at the tip of a 16-gauge needle.
And they wouldn’t be the only ones.
The few who had participated in fighting rings and were found with a criminal record would be joining them. But not until after GSIS interviewed the wolvens to learn of how they came to be there and any incriminating information about their owners to add to the charges. If they were lucky, the agents could learn of other illegal fighting events and put a stop to those as well. Dooming more lives yet saving further in the long run.
In was in these instances Erwin realized that while the criminals and feral were alive now, their dire situations were unchangeable. Hopelessness didn’t begin to describe it.
By the time Erwin and Mike had finished identifying the owners and handing them off to other agents, they caught up with Flagon at the end of the wolven sorting. When Erwin asked about any wolvens belonging to Tybur, the fellow reaper mentioned that they were the first ones apprehended as the handlers were in the middle of trying to get them out of the building when they arrived.
There were two Tybur wolvens—one of which was used in the proxy match. The second hadn’t fought that night and they weren’t sure why Tybur had brought him to begin with. Possibly for a later match, or perhaps for a sale. The only way to know was to learn from the sources, but they were already carted off on the first transport vans to a WMC shelter. Their handlers, meanwhile, taken to the local precinct.
As disappointed as he was, Erwin was relieved to hear that Tybur’s wolvens were simply taken away prior to the categorical evaluation. Even if they had a criminal history, neither were set to be euthanized immediately, so there was time to confront them for answers after the team finished securing the venue and processing the guilty.
In the peak of the early morning hours, the venue was cleared, and the agents were released from duty. Erwin didn’t have it in him to take the hour plus drive home, so he reacquainted himself with Nanaba and Mike’s sofa until they were scheduled to go in later that afternoon. When that time inevitably came, the trio returned to a buzzing GSIS building where multiple divisions were working diligently to clear and process the fighters and owners.
It was a strenuous ordeal of dismantling illegal combative events. Not only by interviewing those in attendance with an unbiased opinion, but doing so without losing control of information being leaked to the media. Then there was the jurisdiction and team effort needed to process the fighters and ensure those that were scheduled for euthanasia were being treated timely, respectfully, and efficiently. All information gathered during the process would be consolidated into individual cases for the owners to be charged with, and that was on top of the assignments each division was working on prior to the bust.
Returning to their floor, the three met with the other half of the team and were briefed on their portion of the Cascade Butcher case from the evening before. Jean and Eren had a little better luck than Erwin when it came to the Tybur Coven member and managed to arrest him with little fuss. He was placed into an interrogation room, but was refusing to talk, inevitably calling for his lawyer. Legal representative or not, Erwin wasn’t ready to give up on Colt Grice’s confession just yet. There was a chance that a plea deal being offered would entice the vampire enough if they gave a glimpse of their cards based on Travis and Asim’s statements.
After witnessing the results of the less than friendly interaction between Erwin and Tybur, Nanaba decided to tackle verifying the vampire’s whereabouts through the secretary and other alibis for all the nights of the murders. Therefore, as there was nothing to be done about Colt or Willy at that moment, Erwin and Mike headed to the medical examination room in the basement.
Like the various divisions in the upper floors, Moblit’s lab was equally busy. Tables were lined in their neat rows with wolven corpses in their shifted forms resting on the surface. The mortuary cabinets were nearing capacity, though the bodies wouldn’t be there for much longer. They weren’t trying to solve their murders, merely collecting and documenting the evidence from the vessels before sending them to a cemetery or any lost family.
Knocking on the opened door caused Moblit to startle from his position hovering over a lycanthrope. Despite recognition dominating his features, it failed to completely erase the frazzled appearance of the human.
“Oh-hey, Mike. Erwin.” He set his scalpel down and stretched his back by lifting his arms over his head. “What can I do for you?”
“Just came down to see how it was going,” Mike answered as he strolled in, scanning each of the cadavers on the tables.
“Ah,” he let out a strained laugh. “It’s been hectic. If you’re here about Walsh, Sasha is still working on two more avenues to confirm the skeleton ID. But we’ve not had anything substantial yet. Few medical matches are possibilities but not solid enough for certainty. Right now, I’m just trying to process these fighters to clear out room in the lab while we wait.”
“No worries. We get you’re busy. Actually, we came to see if you found anything interesting on the fighters.”
“Aside from the cause of death and overall health?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean...” he trailed off, looking to the farthest table in the room. Erwin tracked his gaze, seeing that it was the wolven with the strange bite on his shoulder. “I’ve not seen injuries inflicted on anything like that one over there sustained.”
Erwin started walking to the table, sensing Moblit and Mike following as he did. “What can you tell us about him?”
“Well,” Moblit frowned as he placed himself by the lycanthrope’s head. The size took up half the length of the man’s torso, and Erwin was curious if the coroners needed a larger scalpel to efficiently cut into the wolven corpses. The body on the table had a matching Y incision like the others with clean, solid lines, showing no sign of difficulty. “To put it mildly, there’s no life-threatening injuries that I could distinguish.”
“Huh?” Mike eloquently asked.
“You know. There isn’t a clear indication of what was the fatal attack.”
“The guy was nearly eviscerated.”
“Nearly. Correct.” Moblit gestured to the contrasted, gnarly slit across the abdomen. “But, as I’m sure you’re aware, one can have intestines spill out and still live. Just need to be careful when you return them into the stomach cavity.”
“That’s disgusting.”
He shrugged, desensitized by his delivery of facts. “Regardless, when I checked the organs, none were severely damaged, nor was there any internal bleeding. So, what you’re seeing—even if grotesque—was not life-threatening.”
“So... How’d he die?”
Moblit’s gaze dropped to the incinerated bite mark. “I can only speculate it had something to do with this. I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen lesions like that before. The entire area sustained severe burns and penetrated deeper into the muscles where the teeth sunk into. Even the meat around each puncture is... well, cooked. Do we know which wolven fought our cadaver here?”
“It was one of Tybur’s fighters,” Erwin supplied. “I haven’t had a chance to see them yet, but I’m planning to do so later today.”
Mike nodded beside Erwin as if remembering something. “They’re at the Olympia WMC facility. I requested they be closer to us than where some of the others were taken to in Seattle.”
Moblit didn’t seem comforted by the news. “You’ll have to tell me what you find out. As far as I’m aware, there’s not a real explanation for these burns. Not unless the wolven was fitted with a device. I know it’s not uncommon for these events to add weapons to enhance the matches.”
“It’s a possibility,” Erwin conceded. “Judging by the size of these imprints, Tybur’s wolven was smaller. They may have fitted him with something to make up for the disadvantage.” His attention lingered on the bulging patch of skin beneath charred fur. Even in death, the wounds continued to ooze a yellowish fluid from the blisters. “Do you have someone to help you with processing the fighters?”
“Hange will be coming down after class to help. I sent her pictures of the bite and, well, you know how excited she can get. Fortunately, the semester is nearly over, so Hange will be here more often for the next month or so.”
Hange was one of the original hires when GSIS established a field office in Washington state. She had an impressively high stack of years on most people in the building, along with the unquenchable hunger for learning all about the strange curiosities in the world. Both attributes opened the door for her to become the head of the Coroner Office for decades. It was after Erwin had walked away from his active agent status that she inevitably became bored and added more to the already busy plate.
He recalled Mike telling him that Hange promoted Moblit to take the head position while she worked part time at the Criminal Justice Training Commission. There she taught Medicolegal Forensic Investigation and then would spend the rest of her time with Moblit at GSIS. To keep her license, she had to ensure that a certain number of hours were being met in the coroner lab, although Erwin suspected that was never an issue. Hange wasn’t one to be idle.
“I’m eager to hear what she has to say about it. In the meantime, I can go to the shelter and see what we can find out about the fighters.”
Mike huffed beside him. “We need to get the Director’s ok for that first. And I don’t know what he’s heard about yours and Tybur’s interaction, but he may deny it.”
That didn’t surprise Erwin. In fact, he anticipated that.
“Well, one way to find out.” The reaper turned to leave the exam room, pausing only to address Moblit who stayed near the deceased lycanthrope. “We’ll stop by when we can. If you find out anything before then, you know how to reach us.”
“Of course.”
Erwin released a smirk, “Also, tell Hange she still owes me coffee. I haven’t forgotten.”
Moblit chuckled, nodding his unspoken promise.
With that, they left the basement, returning to the 3rd floor where Shadis’ office was.
“You’re really going to ask him?” Mike inquired beside him.
“You knew it was inevitable. You even made sure the wolvens were placed closer for us.”
“Yeah, but I figured you’d let Shadis cool off a bit first before you brought it up. I mean, if you’re lucky, he hasn’t heard anything about the night aside from the fighting ring bust.”
“Feel free to supervise Jean or Eren while I talk to him then,” Erwin quipped as they strode down the path to the Division Director’s office. “I can fight my own battles.”
“Well,” Mike drawled, slowing as they neared the team’s commandeered conference room. “If you don’t need my protection, then I guess I could watch the others.”
Erwin smirked, shooting him a knowing look. “Unless you’d prefer to be the buffer, I’m fine.”
“Yeah—no. No, I don’t want to be in the same room as you two, let alone a personified bumper.” A heavy hand landed on Erwin’s shoulder. “Good luck, mate. I want all the details of how it goes afterwards if I don’t hear the yelling through the walls.”
“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” he sassed, walking away.
“Oh, come on. You always tell me what happens. I want some good gossip from the source before Nana gets it.”
“That’s a shame. It’ll only happen if you suck it up and coming along,” Erwin called out, not turning to look at what would be Mike feigning a pout.
“Answer is still no. I’m not suicidal.”
Erwin chuckled at his friend’s antics, letting it die down as he reached the Director’s closed door. After a few sharp knocks, he heard Shadis’ call for him to enter. Without any hesitation, he did, having no trace of the previous amusement visible. Previous joking aside, the meeting was not going to be pleasant.
“Smith,” Shadis gruffed, the corners of his lips drooping at his presence. Apart from the mild disappointment, he hid any further reaction as he set a paper to the side and folded his hands together on the desk. “This is unexpected. I assumed you’d be trying to avoid this interaction. But instead, you seek it out.”
Erwin shut the door behind him before walking to take a seat. It was rude of him to help himself to the chair without being invited. He knew it. A touch too forward given their shaky opinion for one another, but Erwin wasn’t in the mood for their typical sparring. It was one of the few occasions he simply wanted to get straight to the point.
“I’m sure Nanaba has briefed you on the investigation so far,” Erwin led with, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he settled in the chair to avoid wrinkles. It wasn’t an inquiry that needed verification. They both knew she had.
“Yes. And at any moment, Mr. Grice’s lawyer will be arriving, and his vow of silence will have set concretely. What’s your point?” he retorted dourly.
“Obviously, lawyer or not, Mr. Grice has some severe accusations against him. Lord Tybur may prove to have alibis, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the orchestrated murders.”
“It doesn’t imply he was, either.” Shadis leaned into the back of his seat as he observed Erwin for a beat. Despite the open scrutiny, Erwin maintained a neutral front, waiting for the man to continue. “I specifically recall telling the team—you, in particular—not to kick the hornet’s nest.”
Erwin inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I wouldn’t classify it as kicking. Prodding, certainly.”
His gaze narrowed. “And did you expect there wouldn’t be consequences, regardless of the level of assault conducted?”
Erwin fixed him with a hardened look. “You know as well as I do Lord Tybur is not naïve to the murders.”
“Where’s your proof? Two humans claiming Mr. Grice seduced them with the promise of rebirth if they went on a killing spree? As far as we know, they’re merely trying to place the blame at someone else’s feet. Has the team even investigated the possibility that these humans have a grudge against Mr. Grice? They could simply be framing him, so they’d get a lesser sentence.”
“By that logic, you could say the same for all confessions involving people outside from the case. Besides, you know Nanaba’s team are looking at every angle. It certainly doesn’t help when Mr. Grice refuses to tell his side of the story.”
“Yes, well, maybe his lawyer will assist with that. The sooner we can get his version of events, the sooner we can put these matters to rest.”
Erwin peered at him testily. “I know you’re not implying to rush through the case.”
“As opposed to what? Directing our resources into focusing on Lord Tybur because of a possibility and your bruised ego? Did you forget that his knowledge of the murders—if he had any—is a Misprision of Felony at most? And proving that’s the case is nearly impossible. So, unless you have proof of his direct involvement, I suggest you drop it.”
Schooling his features, Erwin took a slow, subtle breath to maintain his composure. Once again, another case was thrusting their differences of ethics and obligation between them in a battle of wills, which would no doubt lead to rank pulling. While he understood their positions were above whatever Tybur could threaten them with if they pushed too hard, there were societal rules they were forced to adhere to. Tyber was a big player in the funding and support of the SRC Registry and that was a dangerous bureau to draw the wrong attention from.
The Registry kept records of all legal beings in the country, monitored violations and illicit activities, funded the outside surpa agencies, assisted with drafting of laws, and issued the gleanings to non-federal reapers. If one would say the Reaper community had a boss—it was them. Not to mention, they usually were the ones sending intel to the GSIS office with names and files of those who committed crimes. How the Registry learned of these wrongdoings before GSIS was always a question without an answer. One that never set right with Erwin, stirring his gut in the worse way.
While he could understand Shadis’ hesitancy to pursue investigating Lord Tybur, Erwin continued to remain on the opposite side of the battleline; that it didn’t matter how powerful the suspect was. If they were guilty of a crime, the amount of wealth, prestige, and quality of people one knew should not protect them from the appropriate consequences. Breaking the law without repercussions was not a privilege that came when you superseded a higher tax bracket.
At least, that was Erwin’s unpopular opinion. Then again, some would say he was sitting pretty on his high horse with the number of rules he's broken in the past.
When Erwin didn’t reply, Shadis continued. Picking up a separate paper that had Travis’ individual summary on it, he explained, “I’m prepared to press charges of the kids for the theft and vandalization of Julian Walsh, as well as the other murders as soon as the team can link them to the previous killings.”
“They were just a means to an end,” Erwin retorted, a flinty edge to his voice. “The scapegoats. You’re not genuinely satisfied with letting them go to slaughter without the shepherds taking responsibility, are you?”
“Your idioms are not appreciated right now, Smith.”
“Doesn’t make them any less true.”
“If Mr. Grice does not have enough to charge him, then there’s nothing more we can do about it. You’d have lost your link to the Coven and, by extension, Lord Tybur. You’re putting the cart before the horse by focusing on him now.”
“I’m still convinced that we can find the link. Who’s to say that we charge the kids, and Grice doesn’t just find more gullible humans down the line to do the same? I’m telling you,” Erwin reiterated firmly, “that Tybur isn’t oblivious to these murders, and I severely doubt he’d look the other way just so Grice could have them prove themselves prior to turning them. The Coven never requested Grice to prove himself capable of murder prior to his rebirth, or anyone else for that matter.”
Shadis set the papers down, squinting at Erwin as he leaned forward. “What exactly are you implying, Smith?”
What was he implying? Well, despite his bravado, Erwin wasn’t entirely sure himself. And yet, he was certain there was more behind the murders than what they were aware of. Instead of voicing that, he merely crossed one leg over the other and deflected.
“Nothing more than what I currently have proof of. You hired me for consultation. For my experience and profiling knowledge. I’m giving them to you.”
Shadis sighed, pinching between his eyes while the ladder of wrinkles across his brow deepened and moved with each squeeze of his fingers. “If you’re so determined to pursue this further, then fine. I’ll give the team more time to find the connection you’re so sure of, but you better get results. The families have been wanting answers for their loved ones for months. I won’t delay it any longer if we don’t have any other evidence than the humans. Nor will I allow the team to step on the Registry’s toes just because you want to stir up more mud in the water.”
The discussion was treading closer to prior disturbed battlefields; where trenches of old wounds had yet to be filled in or razor wire removed. During the last case he’d worked on, a criminal--in Erwin’s professional opinion—was let go because of his affiliation with SRC. There had been irreputable evidence of the man’s involvement to a domestic terrorist attack at a multispecies convention, but the SRC Criminal Legislature Director Endicott told the team to move on from investigating their employee. Of course, Shadis collapsed like a house of cards and dropped the ongoing investigation, stamping the case as closed by charging the suspect’s affiliate. The similarities were beginning to stack up, which Shadis must have sensed because he was quick to break the silence.
“Public perception and faith are in the ditches,” he said calmly, adjusting his tone to discourage an argument. “Some are calling for all wolvens wandering alone to be arrested and investigated. PETA-W is accusing officials of standing by and letting biased opinions dictate policy. There was paint thrown on Director Endicott’s car two days ago. And not just any paint, but yellow road paint. Safe to say, the windows had to be completely replaced and a new paintjob on the car. The guy just ended up sending it to the scrap yard. That isn’t getting washed off.”
Erwin knew his face wasn’t hiding the withering glare. “Forgive me for focusing more on the one behind the series of murders rather than a bureaucrat’s expendable car.”
Shadis pursed his lips, realizing his efforts to calm the waters were wasted. “For someone so smart and charismatic, you sure have an attitude that spoils it all, Smith”
“Keeps me humble.”
“If that’s what you call it,” he grouched.
The silly trials of navigating bureaucracy and multi-species hierarchy standings were tedious. While Erwin knew how to play the game to his advantage, he always preferred a direct and risky approach. The world would be a better place if GSIS weren’t trying to play to the public opinion so much. But alas, that was the downside to societal acclimations.
Reluctantly, Shadis put his hands in the air. “I stand by what I said. I’ll allow you and the team to investigate it a little longer. But if you can’t find anything solid soon, I’m pressing forward with charging the kids. They were the ones who willingly agreed and carried out the murders after all. In the meantime, we can look further into their story and gather any additional evidence. I also want you to look into the seals.”
Erwin released a long breath, not quite a sigh, but a temporary truce. It was indirectly permission to pursue the wolvens that were in Tybur’s care, which was his ultimate goal. “Alright. We can work with that.”
“Good. That being said, I’d like to be informed of any—”
A knock interrupted him, firm against the wood in a way that wouldn’t allow them to be brushed off. Frowning, Shadis called for them to enter, seeing a member from Flagon’s team poke their head inside.
“Uh, sorry for interrupting, sir.”
“It’s fine. What is it, Eld?”
“Colt Grice’s lawyer is here. He wants to speak with you.”
Erwin’s brows furrowed as he exchanged a look with Shadis. The prior debate was instantly shelved for a later discussion. This was not a promising sign.
“Bring him in,” Shadis demanded.
Eld nodded and closed the door to retrieve the lawyer while Erwin pushed from the chair to stand just off to the side of the desk. It didn’t escape his knowledge that Shadis didn’t tell him to get out, so he could conduct the meeting privately. Erwin’s opinion was wanted on whatever the lawyer had to say. It wasn’t common for legal representatives to come directly to Shadis when they arrived. Instead, they would be in a rush to get straight to their client to prevent them from saying anything incriminating.
The pair of reapers didn’t have to wait long when the stranger entered, wearing the typical stiff attire legal envoys donned. He wore an old face, appearing in his 60’s with wrinkles and bunched skin extended to the back of his hands. Upon a cursory glance around the office, he shot Erwin a lingering stare but didn’t comment on the spare presence as he turned directly to Shadis.
“Division Director,” he greeted with a curt nod before Shadis could open his mouth. “I’m an attorney from the Tybur Coven. I’m here to secure my client Colt Grice’s release.”
Shadis recovered from the cold introduction, ready to counter, but the lawyer, an ancient vampire, raised his hand to stop him from interrupting,
“I have a writ of habeas corpus that I will have sent to Judge Pommer if I must. Or you can release the client to me now.”
Shadis recollected himself from the threat, straightening his posture. “Mr....”
“Bergen.”
“Right. Well, Mr. Bergen. We have not illegally detained your client, so I’m afraid the writ was a waste of effort. There’s been some troubling statements regarding Mr. Grice’s involvement with the Cascade Butcher murders.”
“Are you willing to chance the writ won’t hold up to the judge?” the lawyer retorted, undeterred in the slightest by Shadis’ explanation. “It makes no difference to me which route you take.”
Erwin’s jaw ticked as he shared a glance with Shadis. The director was hard to read as he weighed the odds of the threat, one hand touching the papers on the desk from where he was standing. He glanced down for a beat, flicking his gaze across the human profiles before looking at the lawyer.
“Alright, Mr. Bergen. You can take your client with you.”
The vampire didn’t look smug or satisfied. He merely nodded and turned out the door. Shadis circled the desk, lifting his hand to Erwin in a sign to wait on saying anything as he followed the lawyer out. Taking a deep breath to conceal his frustrations, Erwin trailed behind the Director, paying little attention as he told Eld to retrieve Colt from the room and release him.
Tybur had made his move onto the board. Not only was Bergen a legal representative from the Coven, but judging by his age and familiarity with his name, Erwin was certain he was one of the best. It caused a swelling of frustrations to simmer beneath his ribs, though he couldn’t be certain if it was aimed at Shadis for giving in despite being within their legal rights, or at Tybur for doing what he could to hinder the investigation. Regardless, he truly had his hands tied as Colt was released to the lawyer’s custody and marched downstairs.
Shadis and Erwin quietly escorted them from behind as the elder kept a reassuring hand on Colt’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. The boy nodded in understanding which Erwin stiffened at. An unintentional mocking display, nibbling at Erwin’s need to know what was being said. What were Tybur’s plans and just what sort of game was it turning into?
Regrettably, as they were breaching the landing to the ground floor, a hint at the answer revealed itself.
Just outside the building, various news outlets waited at the stairs of the glass structure. Shadis and Erwin hung back as the vampires exited the lobby, keeping near the front to hear, but far enough away from direct focus where the tinted glass would hide them from photos. The reporters flocked towards the lawyer and Colt, mics hanging in the air, ready to catch the responses of the esteemed Coven members.
Not only did Tybur send his best lawyer to retrieve their suspect, but he orchestrated an impromptu conference on the lawn. Bold didn’t quite do it justice.
Bergen halted in front of the reporters, keeping one hand on Colt’s shoulder as he addressed everyone in attendance. As much as Erwin anticipated it wouldn’t be discrete or subtle, he found himself unusually surprised by how damning the words were.
“My client was illegally detained by GSIS for simply having a brief encounter with the humans allegedly responsible for the killings of the 8 recent murders. A series of heinous crimes that was thinly and wrongly linked to Mr. Grice. GSIS are looking to ostracize the evidence and wrongfully abuse their positions to go after a member of the Tybur Coven which will not be tolerated.”
The reporters burst into a cacophony of questions, aimed at both Bergen and Grice, but any response was drowned out from the noise. Shortly after, the pair of vampires pushed through the crowd into a sedan waiting for them before driving away, leaving behind the swarming hyenas of reporters.
Erwin felt an ache between his shoulders, realizing how tense and rigid he was standing. Both hands were buried in his pockets as he stared at the media waiting for someone else to come out of the building to question them. To his right, Shadis sighed.
“You weren’t going to get anything from him, even if we kept him here and the writ was ignored,” Shadis amended.
If the lawyer was making aggressive plays to go directly to the judge, Erwin suspected Shadis had a point. Regardless, he didn’t even have a chance to interview Colt and try. That was probably the sting that would linger the longest. The missed opportunity and not knowing if he may have managed to get something from him.
Breaking the silence again, Shadis continued, “I’ll still allow time for you and Zacharias’ team to investigate it further. It may be better to let the coven have this win and allow things to settle. If there’s any luck involved, they may slip up if they get laxed.”
“Right. In that case, I’ll be working the rest of the day out of office.”
Shadis lifted his brows. “Out? And where are you planning on going?”
“I have a possible lead I want to interview,” he replied cryptically, finally breaking his one-sided stare with the mob to look at the director. “I’ll have my phone if there’s anything you need.”
“Fine,” Shadis relented, sensing he wasn’t going to get a clear answer. “I need to run damage control with the pests outside. Be sure to take someone with you wherever you’re going, Smith.”
“That’s not necessary--”
“It is. You’ve proven time and again that you can’t stay diplomatic where it matters. Tybur is on alert, and we need discretion, now more than ever. Take someone.”
Erwin bit back an acidic comment, keeping his face blank as he left Shadis to handle the journalists. As irksome as working with the man was, Erwin was self-aware enough to realize that the outcome with the lawyer was largely in part due to how he handled the evening prior. He challenged the Coven leader. Therefore, the response could not be faulted.
Nanaba would not be happy to hear it.
Returning to the 3rd floor, Erwin went directly to the conference room, sensing that if he would find anyone from the team, they’d be there instead of their respective desks. As he opened the door, he was pleased to see he was correct, although Mike was distinctly absent. Sitting at the table, Jean and Eren were watching a video on a laptop, the sound brimming throughout the spacious room. Enquiring what held their undivided attention, he walked around the table to look over their shoulders.
It was a clip titled "Professor schools arrogant student", which was likely a prejudiced post on the professor’s side of the stance. Still, Erwin was curious to see what was fascinating about it that it had the younger team members so enthralled.
The debate was centered around a human student and a reaper professor at an unnamed university. She was standing with a paper in hand as she haughtily listed data from the research.
“... all the statistics of the nation’s gleanings last year. Humans were gleaned at 64.3%. Wolvens at 21.7%, Vampires at 7.6%, and 6.4% for Hybrids. My question is why are humans being killed so much more frequently than others? That’s discrimination!”
The professor, well accustomed to such claims, calmly replied from his podium, “It’s the process of maintaining the Natural Order.” When he received a scoff from the student, he readjusted his response, “If you want a detailed answer, then it’s basic ecology of population growth strategies; those that’re shaped by environmental conditions and competition for resources. Before your time, when Supras were living secluded from humans, Homo sapiens were classified as K-selected species. You live longer than majority of wildlife, thus producing fewer offspring. R-selected are the opposite. Now, most Academics consider humans a K-selected group and will debate that until their dying breath, but to Supras, your kind share a closer comparison to R-selected. Your lifespans are shorter. You produce often. The conditions were favorable in the 1800s with the advancement of technology, medicine, and resources, thus your population boomed.”
“Wolvens are the next highest statistic, and they produce more often with longer lifespans. More than the other species.”
“Which is why you see they’re the second highest in gleanings.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda the point. They should be at the top of the list. They produce more often than Vampires and Reapers—and they usually carry twins. Plus, live longer than humans. They should be gleaned more frequently.”
“Don't forget, they’re also killed more often in society than the other species. Lower class citizens. Difficulty earning a job, let alone maintaining one if they are Lycanthropes who require time off during weeks of the full moon where they’re more temperamental. And then there’re the laws in place which are stricter for them for the sake of public safety. Wolvens are also more susceptible to zoonotic diseases and spreading them to other species. So, in order to prevent catching and transferring illness to people, they must maintain vaccination records, which is difficult to do when they can’t afford insurance. Then there’s the strays and unregistered to consider that fail rehabilitation and are put down instead of being adopted into homes.”
“Ok, but humans kill each other too--or other creatures kill them. Look at the recent string of serial murders for example. Don’t we get consideration for that? We never asked to be killed.”
“Yes. That’s already considered in the statistics. All death certificates are processed in the system and calculated as such. And to answer the first part of your statement, before the SRC began to enact statistical gleanings, your species was barreling towards exceeding the environment’s carrying capacity. The major difference that separates humans from R-species is that you can solve problems to sustain your numbers when above carrying capacity and manipulate loopholes. Cellular agriculture, cultured meat, tissue engineering... These are not natural. But you’ve created new ways to sustain your population. Humans are gleaned more frequently because there are more of you surviving past your means.” He paused, addressing the entire class in their elevated rows before him. “It is not favor nor prejudice. It’s simply managing numbers to maintain order when there’re those making new rules to get around natural death.”
The door opened to the room as Mike walked in with a Tupperware container of leftover lasagna.
“Hey, you better not be watching another episode without me,” he glowered, taking a seat across from them.
Eren sent him a smirk over the top of the screen, closing the window out and shutting the laptop. “Maybe we were. What’s it to you?”
Mike pointed the fork tines at him. “You know Parks and Rec episodes are for slow nightshifts only. Thems the rules, pup.”
Jean rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. It was another video of some human claiming that Reapers are unfair with their gleanings, all because of some make-believe bias or something.”
“Ah, well that’s boring.” Mike promptly lost interest, going back to his meal.
It wasn’t exactly a new debate. After the treaty, there were a rocky handful of decades where supras and humans struggled to find cohesion. While certain facilities became established to cater towards vampires for voluntary food source, the reapers’ needs were less yielding. No one wanted death and the fact that there was a government agency who orchestrated it certainly didn’t earn brownie points.
“How’d your meeting with Shadis go?” Mike asked Erwin while dabbing the crumpled napkin at his mustache. “I see you’re still breathing. Is he?”
Erwin extracted himself from behind the young men, helping himself to the seat at the head of the table.
“There may be an issue.” He thought he noticed Mike raising a brow but wasn’t certain as his bangs draped over his forehead. “Let me rephrase. My actions last night caused some unforeseen problems. Colt Grice was just released to his lawyer on grounds of so called, unlawful detainment.”
“What?!” Eren exclaimed.
Mike’s fork paused halfway to his mouth before retracting completely. “Hold on. We didn’t do anything unlawful, though. Who authorized it? Shadis?”
“Yes. But for once, I’ll admit it wasn’t a bad move. Not ideal, but he’s giving us room to investigate further before he closes anything. Speaking of,” Erwin tried to keep annoyed inflection from his tone, “I’m going down to the WMC shelter. I’m supposed to have someone tagalong.”
He pretended not to notice Eren sink in his chair as if it would make him smaller. Jean didn’t immediately volunteer, so it wasn’t a surprise when Mike shrugged in response.
“Sure. I’ll go with you after I finish my lunch. Did you eat yet?”
“No, but I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah.” Mike drawled, dropping his eyes to the half-eaten square. His focus grew distant as a frown crept across his face. Setting the fork aside, he replaced the lid over the top. “Actually, I’m not really feeling that hungry either.”
Erwin was about to protest but halted when he heard the nerve-driven tapping of Eren’s fingers on the table. Ah, yes, he should’ve known. Of course, going to a wolven shelter wouldn’t be a welcomed field trip. Even if both Eren and Mike were born citizens and free, privileged like the rest of the public, their pack instincts always bristled around mistreated and sick kin. He would’ve much rather had Nanaba coming with him instead, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to wait.
***
Erwin had only ever been to a Wolven Management and Conservation Shelter once before. It was so long ago he couldn’t truly remember much of the visit aside from the reason.
There had been a robbery at a fellow agent’s house. Their daughter had been home along with their sitter when it occurred, and fortunately, they were only knocked unconscious. While the culprits were collecting any valuables they could find, they decided stealing the family wolven was an extra bonus for the job. Erwin had offered to look at the local shelters in case the wolven managed to get away and ended up in a facility but recalled that he hadn’t to that day and was still considered missing.
Funny that he could remember that little bit, but not the building itself. Although, judging by the somber mood radiating from Mike, and the uninviting exterior they were approaching, he likely blocked it from his memory.
The WMC shelter was nestled just outside city limits, away from other occupied areas. There were a couple acres of mowed lawn wrapping around the back with a 12-foot-high chain-link fence adorning coiled razor wire at the top. From where they approached in the parking lot, he could make out segregated areas within the lawn with benches and vibrant objects laying abandoned in the grass. The individual play yards, if he had to guess. A place where potential adopters got to sample the ‘pet’ aspect that came with wolvens to determine if they were a good match, as if fetching a ball was an appropriate stimulus for intelligent beings.
Upon entering the building, Erwin had anticipated a prison-like atmosphere. Guards passing through the hall, escorting captives elsewhere, and running unannounced room checks. Unfriendly cement walls and linoleum floors. Maybe even the buzzing corridors as they were accessed to the back cells. Instead, the front lobby was reminiscent of a hospital with an unassuming desk and receptionist, drywalls with generic pictures hanging about, and a waiting lounge complemented by geometric upholstered seats. There were even soft tunes playing from the speakers of a local radio station, adding another layer of normalcy over the dubious ethics their facility managed.
“Hello! How can I help you two?” the sunny receptionist asked, beaming a genuine smile at them.
Erwin returned the gesture, though not nearly at the same radiance she was functioning at. “Good afternoon. We’re with GSIS,” he flashed his temporary badge at her, “and came to see some of the wolvens that were transferred from the fighting ring last night.”
Her cheeriness barely diminished at the news.
“Ok, sure.” She reached for the phone and dialed three numbers while holding it to her ear. “It’s always terrible to hear illegal rings still exist. Especially when there are ways of conducting competition with safety parameters in place. Lazy and irresponsible ownership is so frustrating.”
Erwin refrained from arguing that any wolven fight ring, legal or not, had no place at all. Just because legal events stopped the combatants before one died didn’t make it right. But he supposed that was merely a way to justify the violence while soothing any moral dilemmas with the public.
“Hey, Mr. Conley. I have two GSIS agents here to see the intakes... Yes... Ok, I’ll let them know,” she hung up the phone and flashed a second smile at Erwin. He was beginning to wonder if she truly loved her job that much or if it wasn’t as genuine as he anticipated. “He’s heading up right now to take you back.”
“Thank you.”
They retreated from the desk as the front doors opened and a family of four came in with the children making a beeline to the desk. Standing to the side, Erwin tried to look distracted elsewhere, but it was impossible not to overhear the parents speaking with the receptionist as they discussed parameters for their desired pet.
“We’d prefer one that’s between ages 6 and 10 in wolven years. Also, it has some form of education with an ability to read. If possible, we’re looking for a loup-garou—more appealing for the kids,” the husband smiled as if an inside joke that the receptionist nodded along with. “But if it’s a lycanthrope, then we don’t have qualms about that if the fit is right.”
“Preferably a female,” the wife added. “They’re all spayed and neutered prior to adoption, correct?”
The receptionist smiled enthusiastically as the clacking of her keyboard filled the lull. The two children were too short to see over the counter, but their chubby fingers gripped the edge nonetheless as they stood on their tiptoes in a futile attempt to watch her.
“All wolvens that graduate their rehabilitation are sterilized. And we do have a female that fits what you’re looking for, but she’s almost 13. If you were set on the younger ages, we have two males within that cohort.”
The couple turned to one another to discuss it, but thankfully, the double doors that separated the front from the back rooms opened, sparing Erwin from listening further. A mousy haired man with metal rimmed glasses stepped out, wearing what looked like a white lab coat over a tucked plaid shirt. His attention drifted to the family at the counter, then to Erwin and Mike as he adjusted a white tablet in his hands.
“I take it you’re the agents wanting to see our intakes? I’m Hugh Conley, pleasure to meet you,” he introduced.
“Erwin Smith and this is Agent Zacharias.”
Mike gave him a brisk nod but didn’t do much else. Hugh didn’t seem put off by that as he nodded back and gestured for them to follow him past the doors. Once they were through and out of the earshot of other guests, he spoke again.
“We received four last night from the illegal ring. We would’ve taken more in but, as you can see, our facilities are rather popular and we’re always toeing the line of being at full capacity. We send two out and two more get sent back. That’s one of the reasons our adoption rate is among the highest in the state because we’re the first to receive rehab graduates. It’s a constant cycle.”
Erwin squinted at the man’s back. It was a strange brag to make. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Fortunately, for him-- and Shadis’ dwindling sanity--Hugh continued his rant, saving him from replying.
“This facility in particular is unique to most, aside from our sister branches in Seattle and Bremerton. We have two separate divisions due to the high tempo. One department for front of house with adoptions--and us, who focus on intakes and pet surrenders.”
“And what exactly does that entail?” Erwin asked.
The employee seemed to preen at the chance to gloat about his position.
“When we get intakes, like the illegal ring or strays, we go through a similar process of running background checks to ensure no criminal records or prior ownership was established.”
They paused as he scanned a key card to access a second set of doors with a red label of EMPLOYEES ONLY. As they entered the conjoining corridor to the back facility, Erwin immediately noticed windows along the wall to the right looking in at what was equivalent to a surgical theater. The sterile room had two metal tables in the center with white locked cabinets and various blood testing equipment. Medical assistants bustled around doing their daily checks inside what was dubbed ‘Stabilization Unit’ on the placard.
Taking in the new section of the building around them, he realized they were in the heart of the intake department.
Erwin remembered during his last visit seeing that the front of the individual rooms were lined with floor-to-ceiling, heat-strengthened window panels. Such features provided visitors with an opportunity to look inside and see the adoptable wolvens without the hindrance of bars or solid walls. By far, there was more effort in making the wolvens comfortable up front as if being on display was an award for meeting adoption standards. Some had a couch or small bed, end table, and lamp. Even a cardboard television to paint an image of the wolven in someone’s home. The younger ones had a little shelf to keep entertained, usually with coloring books and crayons.
It was a stark difference to the section they were currently trudging through. But he supposed it made sense that the intake holding rooms wouldn’t spend the extra finances on disguising the cages from what they were. It wasn’t a guarantee that the individuals would provide a profit or success story to these people, so why bother hiding the truth of their situation. They were temporary tenants that needed regular meals a day until a decision could be reached. Nothing more.
Hugh prattled on as they walked through the enclosures that were uncanny to the GSIS holding cells.
“The pet surrenders are simple enough as they’re already in the WMC system. If it’s a behavioral issue as the reason for their return, we send them back to rehab for correction. The intakes with potential for adoption are sent to a similar facility that houses them for long-term stays as it’s likely they never had obedience training in the past. When they graduate, they return here and are placed for adoption. We pride ourselves in being a full-circle facility, which comforts the wolvens in returning to a familiar environment.”
“How noble.”
“It is,” he answered, the pride evident in his tone. Erwin’s sarcasm went right over his head. When he spoke again, however, the jubilant intonation was dampened as he broached a slight change of subject. “Of course, working intakes isn’t for the compassionate. We get many cases that are too far gone to attempt recovery. Especially, the wolvens from illegal fighting rings. Many have gone feral and undergo timely behavioral tests to urge them from their animalistic mindset. If it raises any safety concerns or they cannot return to cognizant awareness, they are sadly put down.”
Erwin was aware of the clauses when it came to public safety. Mike rightfully had strong opinions on the matter, especially with the leniency of all law enforcement having permission to use lethal force if a feral wolven was in public. It was a very sensitive subject.
As they walked deeper into the building, Erwin stared into the demoralizing cells. Most of the occupants were sitting on their cots with a pitifully thin mattress and pillow, old sheets, and rough blankets. A stainless-steel toilet was fastened to the back wall with a sink, but aside from that, it was as barren as the look in the wolvens’ eyes.
Everyone they passed were in their human form. Some were on the younger end, malnourished and scruffy. Strays, if Erwin had to guess. They wore loose pajama bottoms and a pale shirt, evidently standard issue that the facilities provided. Some had on the matching button up long-sleeved while others discarded it on the depressingly thin excuse of a pillow.
“I should inform you now,” Hugh mentioned as they slowed to a cage on the right, “one of the wolven intakes from last night had to be euthanized shortly after arriving here.”
Erwin snapped his attention to Hugh, feeling as if a ball of iron had settled in his gut. “Why so soon? And which one was it?”
Waking the tablet up, Hugh halted as he swiped and tapped at the screen. “It was one of the personally requested transfers. He arrived with a second wolven from the same owner. Uh... Yes, intake number 3829. The background check came back flagged showing he had accounts of both sexual assault and battery in his record. The second wolven is still pending another exhaustive review on his background while the remaining two are cleared. This one,” he gestured to the cell they halted at, “is 3831. Registered name Gunther Shultz. Him and the other are scheduled for the next transfer to rehabilitation once one of our companies has an opening.”
Inside, a man with bedraggled hair curled on the bed with no motivation to get up. Even though awake, he was non-reactive to stimulus, noise, or their presence. The top of the pajama set was bunched under his head, exposing the pale scars on his arms from past injuries that lacked proper care in healing.
Erwin and Mike passed a meaningful look between them. It was a humbling, and equally distressing experience seeing someone with all freedom stripped from them. Gunther may have been in a better place than the fighting ring, but that wasn’t to say he had a smooth road ahead. From Erwin’s understanding of the rehabilitation procedures, it was a disguised form of conditioning that eliminated any sense of independence, molding the wolven’s thought process so they only cared about serving their new family. Be it as an inhouse nanny, companion, housekeeper, pet, or all the above. Their purpose in life would be recalibrated to fulfill whatever was asked of them.
“You mentioned that the second requested wolven was going through another background check?” Erwin clarified, “Why is that?”
Sensing that neither were interested in 3831, Hugh led them down the hall. “Well, of the three remaining wolvens, he was the only one that didn’t have a registration number with SRC or a citizenship status. He’s never been in a WMC program either. It’s not common we have a wolven with no documentation in any system unless they were illegally brought here. We’re checking outside systems to see if we can cross reference to another country.”
“What happens after that?”
“If there’s still no record of him, we’ll continue with rehabilitation procedures. If one comes back and proves he has a criminal record... well,” he shrugged as they stopped in front of another cell. “He’ll share the same fate as the other that came in with him.”
Erwin’s chest tightened unconsciously, stilling his lungs. While Colt Grice was not a lead to give up on yet, he understood finding a connection to prove Tybur knew of the murders through the younger vampire would be near impossible. At least something that would hold up in court. It had to be nothing short of a confession from Grice for it to have a chance at sticking. The only alternative he had was that one of the fighters from the Coven would know any of Tybur’s misdeeds with allowing Grice to manipulate the humans. And those chances had effectively been cut in half. There was only one wolven left that may know and even his life wasn’t a guarantee for much longer.
Parceling the thought away for now, he looked to see the next individual on the miserable tour. The wolven inside the room paced restlessly in the center of the cage. Saggy posture and bent neck as his eyes were cast at his bare feet. He was mumbling something while gesturing assertively in the air, sparing the trio a minor glance before retreating to his argument with himself.
“Intake 3830. Dieter Ness. He’s shown questionable stability, but we believe extra treatment can assist him once he’s admitted.”
“Dieter is scheduled for rehab?” Erwin asked.
Hugh nodded, observing Erwin for a moment, then glancing at Mike who had yet to say anything. Realization settled as he went back to poking at the tablet. “I’m guessing, you’re wanting to see the other one. I should’ve realized it. Why else would they personally be transferred to our facility without having the bare background check completed first. Right this way.”
Erwin spared Deiter one last pitiful look before following Hugh, aware that Mike stayed a step behind him with his hands bunched in his pockets. The sternness of his brow and downward tug of his mustache did not hide his friend’s stoic distaste in what he was seeing.
“I should remind you that we haven’t done much with this one yet until we’re sure he’s cleared for further treatment,” Hugh babbled as they approached the end of the cells. “Once we get the results back, we’ll proceed accordingly. He’s showing to be the definition of a unique case here. A welcomed challenge, certainly.”
Hugh smiled over his shoulder, but Erwin couldn’t bring himself to return it. He mulled over the strange comment the employee made, finding it stated as if there was an open end to what the wolven would be subjected to. As far as he knew, there wasn’t an alternative to the usual rehabilitation path, aside from euthanasia. Before he could form a clear thought to voice his questions, they reached the second to last cell where he was struck with the most peculiar reaction.
A warbling, low-pitched bellow sundered from within, bisecting Erwin’s composure and tinging off his internal preservation. It was an instant revelation of danger, the sort that was sharp like an electric zap down his spine. His body grounded to a halt just as Mike froze beside him, causing Erwin to wonder fleetingly how Hugh was able to look only mildly uncomfortable. Perhaps, his human senses were dulled or simply desensitized to threatening displays, no matter how foreign and alarming.
Cautiously--the action felt like eons--Erwin turned his head to look at the source of the unexpected sound.
Inside, the occupant was not perched on the bed nor pacing like the prior wolvens. The mattress was bare, except for the pillow, with the scratchy wool blanket bunched together on the concrete pad beside it. Sitting atop the pitiful dominion, the figure had their knees pulled tight into their torso, bare feet laminating one over the other in a sad attempt at preserving warmth, and pallid arms wrapped around his shins. The position didn’t look comfortable, even with the pathetic cot as the alternative.
Dull, inky locks poured around bellicose eyes, but Erwin struggled to take in much else of the man’s appearance when his gaze was drawn to a steel muzzle fixed over the wolven’s face. It looked penalizing, but even so, the uncontrolled reaction within him hinted that it may have been necessary. After all, despite the unassuming stature of the man, he made his point of the blatant risk he still portrayed. Even curled in on himself to appear less menacing, the wolven lifted his head with unwavering eye contact and deliberately paired it with the warning growl.
It may not be a direct, belligerent threat, but the message was more than clear. Move the fuck on.
In all his life, it was exceedingly rare for something to pluck his instinctive reaction like a cello cord. Very concerning, indeed. Especially, when the wolven realized the strange growling alone wasn’t deterring them, thus an underlying hiss squeezed out of his throat. The overlapping cadency was impossible to ignore, like the low rumble of a motorcycle down the road.
“This is 3828. Like I said, there were no records in the system for him, but the other wolven that we euth...” Hugh cleared his throat, changing direction in present company, “3829 told us this one’s name is Levi.”
Not taking his eyes off the contradictory wolven--another instinctive gesture warning not to lose sight of the danger--he tilted his head closer to Mike for clarification.
“What’s that sound conveying?”
Mike appeared just as uncomfortable and disturbed.
“Nothing good, I can assure you that. I—” He promptly cut himself off, shooting a glance over at Hugh. Grabbing the inside of Erwin’s arm, he leaned in close to whisper, “I don’t think he’s wolven, mate. At least, not entirely. That’s not a sound any of our species produces and he’s unusually small.”
The admission was enough to rip his attention away from Levi as his brows knitted together in puzzlement. He didn’t get a chance to clarify before Hugh spoke up, likely sensing their dismay over the strange noise.
“We suspect the cilice that was around his throat has roughened his vocal cords over long periods of use. Or he may have sustained injury in the ring at some point.”
For the first time, Erwin truly looked at the facilitator, trying to distinguish if the man was being funny or serious. “He had a cilice on? Around his throat?”
“Yes. It’s not an uncommon device. Even in the dog world, canine trainers will use a similar device like the chokechain or pinch collar. In some instances, it’s an appropriate tool for reinforcement with stubborn pets, dogs and wolvens alike,” he answered easily.
Erwin’s eyes dropped to the man’s name tag on the lab coat. Hugh P. Conely—unusual to include a middle initial on a badge which Erwin wondered if it stood for pretentious.
“And yet you mentioned it may have caused permanent damage,” the reaper replied icily.
Hugh frowned but didn’t look in the least chided. “If it is the cause of damage, it was mild. He’s still capable of communicating, even if it’s distorted a bit.” He went back to looking at his tablet, conveniently missing Erwin’s glower, as he continued. “Really, it’s a surprise he managed to survive so long in the ring with larger opponents. The evaluation this morning noted he’s showing severe signs of mental trauma.”
You don't say, Erwin wanted to snark but managed to swallow his ire. The earlier loss of custody with Grice was still a fresh reminder of consequences with a loose tongue and unmoving ego.
When he looked back at Levi, he was met with the man glaring lightning bolts as if trying to manifest electricity to spark in the molecules of air between them. Trauma and shock were deeply interwoven into his nature at this point if he couldn’t rationalize or will himself to communicate with them through words instead of growls. Erwin couldn’t even begin to grasp the amount of distrust Levi had for everyone else.
“Is there any other information that came up at all?”
“No,” Hugh replied. “We had the typical transfer paperwork from the police when they arrived. It was mentioned that the handler of these two wolvens was arrested before being let go with a fine. He reported that both wolvens were legally attained by a Willy Tybur decades ago and this one was purchased as a pet.”
“If Levi isn’t in the system, how did Tybur have legal rights to him,” Erwin challenged.
Hugh merely shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for citizens to purchase wolvens out of the country and bring them back. They just have to fill out the proper forms and the pets must undergo stringent health checks and quarantine through customs. Unless his owner comes to claim him, there’s nothing we can do. It’s treated as a surrender or a stray. If he did come to claim him, we would need those documents.”
Erwin suspected that wouldn’t be the case. Tybur coming to claim Levi would put him on the GSIS radar. They’d be in their rights to question him regarding his presence at the illegal ring, and even then, it would be dismissed due to merely settling personal matters, not profit. It wasn’t enough to link the vampire to the murders either, but even so, it'd be unwanted attention that could damage the Coven's reputation.
All that aside, Erwin couldn’t help the thought that Tybur would never forfeit his rights over Levi so easily, particularly if Levi was the one who fought the night prior. For all he knew, it could’ve been the newly deceased wolven who fought, and Levi was merely a pet, as mentioned.
“Do we know which one was in the proxy match?” he asked.
Mike and Erwin turned their attention to the facilitator who seemed puzzled. Reviewing the tablet, he made a half-shrug gesture. “I suspect it’s 3828. According to the medical team, he was the only one with fresh injuries.”
Erwin observed the agitated wolven, still glaring sourly at them. It was difficult to tell for certain from the distance, but like Gunther, he thought he could pick out white lines of old wounds across the folded arms. If any new injuries were present, he couldn’t see them with the way Levi folded himself. Although, as he strained his eyes, he may have been able to pick out the opaque medical tape beneath the collar of Levi’s shirt.
The image of the deceased lycanthrope the night before, sharing a similarly placed injury, came to mind along with Tybur’s glowing pride in his fighter. From the evidence presented, Levi was responsible for the mysterious death, and if that was the case, it confirmed that Tybur would not be willing to relinquish his hold on something so lethal. It only made sense that the vampire was waiting to see what would happen and allow the fuss to die down. Erwin would do the same in his position.
If Levi ended up having a clean history, he’d be put into behavioral training where they would spend state resources to reform him into an obedient pet and put up for adoption. Tybur could simply bid his time to legally obtain him in the future and avoid any backlash altogether.
“Why is Levi muzzled,” Mike asked, yanking Erwin from his thoughts.
Hugh seemed surprised to hear Mike address him finally, which caused him to pause before answering.
“Er, well. When we receive intakes, they’re sedated for their examination during in-processing. That’s where we run health checks, fingerprints, and bloodwork. In this case, the focus was on stitching the injuries and patching them up. 3828 was the only one that came in with a muzzle and had woken through the process unexpectedly. We were barely able to remove the cilice after completing the exam and didn’t get a chance to take the muzzle off. He was very agitated and still heavily drugged, so to avoid injury to the staff, we left it on and placed him in his room.”
Erwin frowned, finding it hard to take his eyes from the glaring creature. Every muscle of Levi’s body was primed and ready to move despite the vulnerable position on the floor. It was unclear what it would take to coax the wolven into action from the stalemate they were at.
“He’s not feral, is he?”
“No,” Mike answered before Hugh. The side-eye he pinned the human with dared him to dispute it, but Hugh didn’t seem to have an alternate opinion. “If he was, he’d be trying to get through the bars to kill us.”
“Agent Zacharias is correct. Although,” Hugh hesitated, “... he’s showing heightened aggression at some of our staff. Nothing supplemental measures couldn’t correct, I’m sure. We’ve simply had not enough time to work with him yet, and—as I said before—we’re still waiting to ensure his history is clean.”
So, until they knew they were cleared to spend resources and time on Levi, they were going to leave him in the device. It was inhumane, but there was little Erwin could do about the situation.
As he mulled all the information over, meeting the contentious glower that promised mutual destruction if they threatened his habitat, Erwin had an epiphany.
Not a full-fledged revelation that painted an end goal in golden light, but the sort that embedded in his grey matter, interweaving through his thoughts and molding new ideas.
Inspirational scheming.
After all, there was no denying that there was something about Levi which he couldn’t shrug off. It was more than just pinning Tybur to the murders. Levi was a bragging right for the Coven leader; the multipurpose tool used for special jobs when success could not be gambled. Not to mention, Levi’s compact nature, the need for a muzzle and cilice, the fact he was able to kill a beast over twice his size and, above all else-- do so with such efficiency that the soul had simply vanished out of existence... Add that to Mike telling Erwin he sensed the creature was not of his kind?
Oh yes. He was very intrigued.
Taking a testing step forward, Erwin softened his features and tone. Predictably, it did nothing to soothe the offense of closing the few inches of distance between the bars, as Levi straightened his posture like a rod jammed into his spine.
“Hello, Levi,” he addressed as calmly as he could to a near feral being. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
Defiantly, Levi stared at him. The bellows from before dwindled to the familiar canine growls that vocalized his agitation. He was a grumpy creature, but Erwin certainly didn’t fault him for it. In all honestly, it was a preferrable attituded as opposed to the prior wolvens’ despondency. Levi was still brimming with righteous life and constitution, even amid undoubtable frustration and pain. The gaze he fixed Erwin with was unforgiving like an undulating reflection on murky grey waters.
It was difficult to get a read on his soul energy. The distance didn’t help, nor the way Levi was curled in like a ball. Erwin had experienced the inability to sense the core of a person before, but it wasn’t common, and it always took a significant amount of concentration to perform. Regardless, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed in failing now of all times.
When Levi didn’t bother offering a verbal response, Erwin realized the wolven may not understand or speak English. On the plus side, Erwin did know four other languages to try if he needed to, though that would have to wait for another time.
Unoffended by the lack of reaction, Erwin redirected his attention to Hugh. “I’d like to assist in expediting the process. I’ll fill out forms from the office to expand resources and I want to be contacted about all matters regarding him. This includes the results of your out-of-country inspections before any other action is taken with him.”
Hugh seemed taken aback by the sudden request, a flash of confusion melted to anxiousness before settling on a forced unreadable mask. Erwin got the sense that man was preparing himself to defend some redundant policy that was categorized neatly in his head.
“In normal adoption procedures, if already approved for the process, what you’re suggesting wouldn’t be an issue...”
Of course not. Nothing was ever simple.
“Go on,” Erwin encouraged.
Hugh’s finger flicked idly at the corner of the tablet. “Pending results aside, there’s been two other clients who’ve shown an interest in possibly adopting 3828.”
Erwin stiffened with a concoction of indignation and bemusement. “First of all, I’m not interested in adopting. There’s an active investigation going on apart from the fighting ring that Levi would be of use to. Secon—”
“But as an agent,” Hugh interrupted, buckling down into his role and drawing a clear line between him and Erwin, “you understand the federal law states that unless 3828 is a suspect for a crime that goes to trial, he is either to be euthanized or questioned within appropriate WMC approved facilities by Registry officials moderating alongside GSIS, once admitted. Federal court orders are the only things that can override it for human law enforcement agencies or GSIS to gain custody. The 3rd option that would allow us to hold off on our processes is if he was adopted.”
“As I was saying,” Erwin reiterated, “if you’re waiting on the results, why would you advertise him to potential adopters? Is that how you run your intakes?”
“No. Certainly, not. But 3828 is a unique case, as I mentioned.”
“Who are the people wanting to adopt him? Seems rather odd he has two potential owners when he’s been here less than 24 hours.”
Apparently, Erwin was asking the right questions as the previous bravado from the human seemed to evaporate.
“L-look, I think I may have been a little abrupt... in my response. For that, I apologize,” he remedied, voice carrying a quiver just below the surface.
“Do potential adopters have access to the intake holding area?” Erwin pressed, ignoring the apology.
“No. The only outside visitors are those looking for a lost pet.”
“Then who has shown interest?” If Erwin had to guess, it had to be someone from the fighting ring. Someone looking specifically for Levi. One could be shaken off as a fluke. But two people wanting to potentially throw their hat in the ring for ownership? Erwin wasn’t buying it.
“I’m sorry, Agent Smith,” Hugh misaddressed, but Erwin didn’t correct him. “I’m not legally allowed to release that information.”
Erwin was sure he looked ready to wring the man’s neck as Mike chose that time to get his attention.
“Can you give us a moment?” Mike asked a jittery Hugh.
“Su-sure.”
Hugh didn’t hesitate to walk a short distance away but well within view. Glancing behind him, Erwin noted that Levi continued to watch the interaction religiously and there were no longer growls rumbling in their direction. Erwin stared back for a beat, attempting to distinguish what the man was thinking, but those eyes were unyielding and cold like the concrete walls.
For the second time, Mike leaned in close to avoid Hugh from overhearing. “I think we need Hange to come give another opinion on Levi. We can decide what to do from there before we try to get legal permission with a judge.”
“Why wait?” Erwin challenged flatly. “We could put the request in now.”
Mike tentatively picked his next words, sending another glance at the man behind the bars. “Truthfully, I think figuring out what he is first would be ideal. Especially, if the anesthesia wore off so soon on someone his size. These people sedate wolvens for a living. They know what they’re doing.”
Erwin couldn’t help but internalize a curse, recognizing Mike’s logical suggestion as the smart move. Hange was set to arrive that evening at GSIS and, while he didn’t want to interfere with her assistance with Moblit, he wouldn’t feel guilty taking her away in the morning. Out of country documents could take a day or two before the results were in. At least. Therefore, so long as Erwin could stay a step ahead of WMC protocols, things were not yet hopeless for Levi or their investigation.
He just needed to ensure he made the most out of the time he had--for his sake and Levi's.
Notes:
Levi does like to make grouchy alligator bellows. 😆 Just more mystery for Erwin to solve!
Sorry the length got away from me, but there were some important world-building topics to set up for things happening outside the main focus. Next time, more Levi! Well, really from here on out he'll be involved. This was just a brief intro to him and his sad situation.
Thank you so much for sticking with the story so far! Also, thank you for the kudos and comments! Until next time, stay safe! 🩶🖤
Chapter Text
***
Nanaba scowled at him from her peripheral, but Erwin paid little attention, eyes glued to the notepad in his hands, the back of the book resting on the edge of the table. The pen scratched harshly across the page, jotting notes and more notes, lines from one part of the diagram to the side with a brief exert of translation written in some chimera penmanship attempting to pass as cursive. When he wasn’t actively writing, the cap of his pen tapped idly against the rings to a tune only he heard.
“You’re fidgeting,” Nanaba whispered, snagging his attention from his project.
Erwin’s gaze lifted to hers before circling the conference room, realizing that while nearly everyone from the Cascade Butcher case was present, there was a distinct lack of communication. He’d been so immersed in his homework that he hadn’t even noticed Nile and Marie had arrived along with two new faces whispering and laughing beside Eren and Jean.
Mike must’ve realized just how absorbed Erwin was because he openly laughed at the man before the reaper could ask who the strangers were.
“I thought you said you were going to work on those last night,” he chided from beside Erwin. He was lounging in the chair while balancing on the back legs, and his feet kicked onto the table. “You’ve never been one to procrastinate. Hey, Eren—Jean. Pay attention and take this moment in for the rarity that it is. You may have to live another 500 years before ever witnessing it again. This is going down in Erwin Smith History.”
If what Mike said hadn’t be the blunt truth, Erwin would’ve been less annoyed. Even so, it took some effort to not give into the impulse of pushing the chair out from under the self-assured wolven. It’d only take a subtle bit of concentration to use his soul energy to manage it.
“'Erwin Smith History' is not a thing. And I’d like to make the correction in saying I’m not procrastinating. Simply jotting down final edits that I may have missed last night... Polishing, if you will.”
Mike tilted his head to peer over Erwin’s shoulder before snorting. “That handwriting does not imply polishing, mate.”
Feeling rather exposed, he chose not to further dig his grave. Erwin had been both exhausted and distracted after the trip from the shelter the afternoon prior. His evening included a long, hot shower, homemade meal, and some unassuming research into the recorded abilities hybrid wolvens could possess. What started as a simple preliminary introduction spiraled into various scientific journals. From there, it was easy to fall down the hole with peer-reviewed studies that didn’t offer any insight into his questions. What he was doing now was hastily decoding the runes and sigils of the seals before Shadis and Hange arrived for the team debrief. It was not the result of procrastinating. It was simply making the most of the minutes before the deadline.
Much to his ire, any luck Erwin had been counting on was useless as exactly two minutes before the designated meeting, Shadis entered the conference room. Immediately, the elder reaper’s face fermented when his attention locked on Mike.
“Get your feet off my table, Zacharias!”
Before the surname was fully spat out, Mike’s chair slammed onto all four legs. Eren and Jean snickered with the two unknown members and Erwin felt a satisfied curl of his own lips. Served Mike right.
Sensing Erwin’s crude amusement, he shot him a mild glare while muttering, “Smug bastard.”
“Peevish child,” Erwin retorted, equally hushed. Nanaba elbowed Erwin from his other side, drawing them from their whispered bickering.
“Alright,” Shadis started, taking his place at the head of the table. His tone left no room for sidebars, demanding everyone’s attention. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Grice was released to his coven yesterday, but I’m still wanting to explore any possible link between the confessions and him. Everyone had their assignments, so let’s hear where we’re at.”
One by one, each department took their turns on reporting their findings. Nanaba spent all day verifying alibis of the nights of the murders for Willy Tybur. So far, every account was validated, and Tybur was claimed to be seen elsewhere during the crimes. It was far from good news, but it didn’t mean Erwin was wrong to suspect him. Tybur could have been in a different country for each killing but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of them. If anything, intentionally appearing in public so others could vouch for his presence may even support that he planned it in the first place; just so he could shed any suspicion from him.
The laptop from Eric’s room, along with the apprehended evidence, was processed. Further proof was documented when the human’s search history displayed evocation circles, though nothing else was substantial enough to note. What the team really needed, however, was the configured murder weapon and the alleged skull to hammer the final nail in the metaphorical coffin for the trio of humans. That being said, the plan for the day was to get the address for the abandoned gas station they took their captives to, and process the scene for additional evidence. Supposedly, Eric’s contraption was tucked away somewhere within.
Extending from Nile and Marie’s report with the evidence, the two new faces added their progress to the group. The young vampire with the buzzcut, Connie, briefed the overview of all the evidence collected, along with confirming the photo recording of the alleged skeleton was completed. The bright-eyed and eager lady beside him was ever enthusiastic to fill in the medical reports that could be linked to the headless body, although repeated it wasn’t enough to identify it with certainty. If the team could get the skull from the gas station, they’d have the best chance of knowing for sure.
When it came to Erwin’s turn, he stood up and approached the front, ignoring how Shadis reluctantly backed away from the board to give him space.
Three enlarged photos of the seals were taped up for reference, which he used to summarize the victims and placement choices of the stomach, chest, and above the heart. Once everyone was refamiliarized with the subject, he started into the meat of his—hastily put together—research.
“As I mentioned, it seemed that Eric had some prior knowledge to evocation circles. The first one,” he gestured to the smallest of the three, “was a copy of a generic seal you could find with a simple online search. The following two show that he employed a sense of customization to his approach.”
“Meaning what?” Shadis asked.
“Meaning that these symbols you see here,” he gestured to the inner ring of the seal that was bordered by a larger circle on the outside. Various symbols were spaced between the borders. “These were specifically added to the original Zodiac Method seal, which was essentially used as a template. Such styles of applications are interchangeable as one would expect. Think of them as ingredients. There's a reason for the symbols, but the placement and surrounding pieces do influence the overall purpose of the seal that the creator is trying to covey. You wouldn't put the flour and sugar in the oven before you added the eggs. There're processes that need respecting.”
“Uh,” Eren raised his hand, only lowering it when Erwin nodded, “Influencing the purpose... as in, these seals actually do work? I thought evocation runes or whatever was just a gimmick.”
“In the general sense, most are because they lack a clear will and conduit. But, under the right care and craftsmanship, along with substantial power, seals do have the ability to manipulate beings. To an extent, I want to reiterate. Just like the constellations, the Earth, or the ocean. Myth and wild speculation tend to overexaggerate the unknown. Evocation circles and other invocation seals or sigils have a purpose in manipulating matter. Primarily regarding ungrounded souls or, in rare cases, summonings. But anything more is likely fear-induced fables.”
Marie was the next one to speak up, flaunting her lovely smile that could compel kings. Her tender expression coerced Erwin towards a smile in return, though he knew better than to indulge in it. Even after all the years that deteriorated since their wilted engagement, she remained a sensitive and warm-blooded creature, his sweet Marie. The oak brown dress with miniscule white flowers printed under a rich blue cardigan complimented the big curls that draped over her shoulder. Nile was a fortunate man.
“How do seals work where ungrounded souls are concerned? Aside from lore with witches using them as tools, it’s not widely known what’s true. Even as a reaper, I have very little understanding of it myself.”
Erwin supposed that would be the case with majority of his kind. When he mentioned additional abilities which had rumored to have died out, it wasn’t an embellishment.
“A seal is like a magnet. Imagine you have moths in a beach ball that is charged with positive energy. If the flashlight is the negative, and you put it on one side, the moths will flock to it. It works vice versa, just the same. What a lot of amateurs get wrong is that just because you include these energies in a seal, no matter the placement on the planes, they don’t work properly because it nullifies it.”
From there, he used the few examples he managed to recognize from the sloppy tattooed work. Even if he was the most knowledgeable in the room regarding the subject matter, he couldn’t shake the feeling his ignorance was being highlighted. There was much more which went into seals that he didn’t understand, though that was no reflection on him. He knew that. After all, what he learned was due to innocent curiosity being born one day that soon turned into half a dozen books added to his library. Eventually, the phase passed to a new subject and Erwin resold the texts to another interested party. His finishing statement said as much, working as a disguised disclaimer as well as ending his brief.
“I expect that Eric was toying with containing something, but I’m unsure to what end or purpose. If it was with intent of an invocation, then who was he hoping to be possessed?”
Panning to Shadis, the disturbed scowl as a response was expected, if a little unwelcomed. “Do you suspect they were trying to contain the soul into the body after death?”
“Is that a thing?” Connie asked, his pallor draining further. “You mean someone could actually find a way to animate the corpse or something?”
Ah, right. They weren’t around during Erwin’s first explanation of necromancy. This was not a conversation he was willing to entertain a second time. Alas, before he could guide the conversation elsewhere, Eren added his support to Connie’s suggestion, throwing more coal into the fire of what was about to be a runaway train if Erwin didn’t regain control.
“The seals were placed before they died,” the wolven encouraged. “It makes sense Eric could’ve tried to keep the soul in the body and then control them. Reanimate the corpse or whatever the official term is called.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that wasn’t the case,” Erwin interjected sternly. When questioning gazes landed on him, he continued, “There’s no logical reason why they’d nearly decapitate the victims’ heads or eviscerate their bodies to such an extreme if that was their intentions.”
Eren—the stubborn boy—shrugged at Erwin’s dissuasion. “Maybe they were pissed it didn’t work?”
“No,” Nanaba intervened. “For a soul to be considered ungrounded, the body must be severed of all function. Only in death is it malleable as the seals are suggesting. The causes of death were due to the damage done to the throats. They could’ve killed the victim any number of ways that would’ve render the body lifeless and not torn at the seams.”
“Ah. Yeah... I guess that makes sense.”
Jean snorted at Eren’s embarrassment which earned him a glare.
“Shut up, horse-face. You didn’t know either.”
“Of course I did. It wouldn’t make sense to have a headless corpse that couldn’t move around.”
“Shut up!”
The odontologist, Sasha, spoke from beside Connie. “They also wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of modifying and using the stollen skull to make it look like a wolven attack if that was their intentions the whole time. It only makes sense Eric was just playing with his own theories. I doubt there was any true motive behind the actions.”
Erwin had yet to have a conversation with the wolven female, but he was impressed all the same. She was clever, even if a little immature with her cohort.
As there was nothing else to add to his section, Erwin concluded the brief and returned to his place between Mike and Nanaba. The following round of discussion was reiterating the additional plans moving forward. When Shadis landed his attention on Erwin, he made his point that whatever the Director wanted from him would have to wait. He had plans for the day that would not be deterred. When asked for further elaboration, Erwin vaguely side-stepped with, “If Hange confirms my intuition, you’ll be the first to know.”
The comment went as well as anticipated. Shadis glowered at him, reawakening a trace of tension in the room that hadn’t made its appearance since the first day Erwin started working the case. Eventually, Shadis took his leave, mentioning that he would be at a PR event in the afternoon and make any calls around that time unless there was an emergency. Marie and Nile followed him out to discuss a private matter while Mike took to introducing Erwin to the new rookies of the team, now that he wasn’t absorbed in his notebook.
Connie and Sasha had joined the forensic department shortly after Erwin’s last consultation. They had come highly recommended from the academy and met Jean and Eren from their younger years. Sasha and Connie were the youngest of the unit at only clocking 62 years of age, which did explain their childish teasing throughout the meeting. Erwin couldn’t fault them too harshly on that, and he anticipated further mischief from the pair who could be mistaken as long-lost twins. At least in mannerism. Obviously, it would be a cold day in Hell that a vampire and wolven were truly related by blood.
“In the Academy we learned about the Schwab Manhunt that took three entire weeks in the Canadian wilderness. You were called onto the case and managed to help locate him by figuring out where the guy was staying based on the aspect of the mountain and vicinity of the town. I’d never would’ve thought the search party should focus on south-facing slopes. But it makes sense as that’s where the sun and heat was best to survive the cold temperatures and cure meat. Freaken genius, man. Uh, I mean, sir,” Connie gushed when he realized that the reaper was the Erwin Smith.
Never one to gloat, especially when he only considered his actions as a reflection of his job, Erwin smiled kindly. “Anyone would’ve come to the conclusion eventually. It was just luck that I did first.”
“Luck? Yeah, right.” Connie laughed. “That wasn’t the only case we reviewed in our law classes that you worked.”
“Don’t forget Agents Nanaba and Mike were there and doing just as much work as myself.”
Mike chuffed, slapping his heavy hand onto Erwin’s shoulder. “Oh, trust me. We got the same treatment when they signed on. Don’t feel special.”
Erwin narrowed his eyes at his friend.
“Alright,” Jean griped, standing from his seat and pushing Connie and Sasha toward the door. “We still have work to do and you, Connie, need to look into potential PETA-W riots.”
“That won’t take all day,” Connie countered despite allowing Jean to herd them from the room.
Eren got up to follow with mild annoyance. “Jean, stop acting like hot stuff now that we aren’t the rookies.”
“Stop nagging at me, ankle-biter. I can do what I want.”
“Is that a purse-dog reference? Oooh, you’re wanting to get your face smashed into the mat today, huh?”
“Bring it, mutt. I’d like to see you get out of my triangle choke. Oh, that’s right—you can’t.”
The bickering continued as they left the conference room to the remaining vets. When Erwin turned to face his companions, Mike was shaking his head while Nanaba looked like she had tuned the team out completely. He couldn’t imagine how rowdy the members were when not working a case and boredom was present. Was it crude of him to see a silver lining in murders?
Probably. But no one ever claimed Erwin was a saint. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“I’d say you get used to it,” Nanaba explained as if reading his mind. “But you don’t. It’s easier dealing with two at a time.”
Just then, the door burst open with such force it slammed into the wall, startling all three.
“Heyo! Erwin!”
Aside from the split second visual of a mass of wild hazelnut locks, the speed of the impact into his torso rendered him momentarily stunned as arms engulfed him.
“Long time no see, friend! I’ve missed you! When are you going to stop torturing me and become an active agent again?!”
Regaining his breath, Erwin chuckled as his assailant released their iron-clad embrace. “Hange, good to see you.”
“Of course it is,” she retorted, glancing at Moblit who entered the room at a subdued pace. “Right, Mobes? Everyone loves seeing me. I make any terrible day instantly better--my own superpower.”
“Whatever you say, Hange.”
Undeterred by his mild teasing, she faced Erwin, adjusting the glasses that had slid down the bridge of her nose. “Mobes tells me that you and Mikey wanted my opinion on something? Well, I’m here to assist!”
***
The car ride was about as animated as the morning meeting had been. Hange plopped into the middle seat in the back and rattled off a year’s worth of information in an alarmingly short amount of time. Mike had growled at her to put the seatbelt on, which predictably went ignored. By the fourth warning, he gave up and settled on focusing on the road.
Erwin welcomed the energetic commotion, having missed one of the people he considered his closest friends. In the last quarter of the drive, he managed to wrangle the conversation toward the entire point of the day by discussing the proxy fighter in question they were going to see. If he was being completely honest, redirecting the topic wasn’t too difficult due to Hange bringing up the singed bite on the lycanthrope first. He simply enhanced his reactions accordingly to encourage a continuation of the subject and avoid her becoming sidetracked.
Come to find out, she was just as stumped by the mysterious injury as everyone else and was certain that it was a device added to the fighter’s muzzle. A modification that may have a mechanical heating or electrical component. When Mike informed her of the unusual warning growls and the facilitator’s suspicion of the cilice causing damage, she shrugged and said it was entirely likely. Regardless, she would keep an open mind and deduce the evidence for herself.
Soon enough, they arrived at the shelter only to find that it was filled with more cars than the day prior. Hugh had mentioned that the facility was a busy place of business, though it had certainly not been the case previously. It took longer for the trio to reach the receptionist and an additional ten minutes before Hugh appeared at the front to collect them.
Once more, they were walking down the aisle of holding bays, the backdrop and occupants much the same miserable despondency. The fresh memories of Levi’s vivid glare and honed awareness was a deep contrast to his cellmates, and Erwin mused how long it would take in a place like that until despair infected the small wolven. If the other individuals were demoralized with a similar fighting background, was it the result of different ownership treatment or a statement to their character? Was it insensitive to compare each of the wolven's treatment to gauge who had it worse? Was that what made Levi more resilient than the others?
He kept the thoughts to himself, sensing it wasn’t the time for psychoanalytic ponderings. Particularly when Mike retreated into himself and Erwin peered fleetingly at the cages, never lingering too long to commit the scenes to memory. Hange carried the conversation well enough on her own, walking beside Hugh and the cells, while rattling off question after question. Initially, Hugh reflected similar excitement for the chance to boast as he had with Erwin, but as the inquiries delved deeper into congealed ethics, his responses became stiff with regurgitated information that didn’t quite address the topic. The sort of diplomatic answers to appease, while dodging the truth.
“Let’s just assume, nothing comes back on this wolven from your out-of-country inquiries, yes?” she speculated, occasionally looking into a passing cage. Her mask never revealed her opinion on what she witnessed. “What are the following steps you’ll take with him?”
“The same as any of our intakes. We’ll register the wolven with WMC and send his information to the rehab centers. If they have room, they will take him right away. If not, he’ll stay here until it’s his turn on the wait list.”
“And how long do the rehabilitation phases last?”
“It depends entirely on the wolven. Usually 12 weeks to 6 months. Additional factors to consider are whether supplemental training is required. Such resources would be needed if there’s been signs of aggression in which the behavioralist team would determine if it’s resource-driven, a result of fear, lack of socialization, or genetic. Of course, if the wolven is too dangerous at any point, they are considered recalled cases.”
“Recalled?” she tilted her head in thought. “I’m not familiar with that term.”
“Euthanized, ma’am. It’s the technical term front of house and behavioral facilities call it.”
“Why? Because it sounds less condemning? Or because the wolvens are viewed as damaged products?”
Hugh cleared his throat, feigning more interest in the tablet as if there was something of importance on it. “I’m not entirely sure where it came from. I just know that's the term used.”
“What phrase do you use here?”
“The official title. Euthanasia.”
“Why?”
“Because we aren’t dealing with clients like the other departments.”
“Oh. So, it’s consideration for the public more than the wolvens that the term ‘recall’ is used. Fascinating.”
Erwin could hear the lack of jovial cadence in her tone, despite the feigned sincerity in her bubbly smile. She did not find it fascinating, nor did he suspect the news came as a shock to her.
“So,” Hange circled back, “What will happen to... 3828, did you say? Aside from the rehab part,” she wafted a hand in the air. “Because it was mentioned he may have two potential adopters. Are they willing to wait up to 6 months till he graduates before applying for ownership or are there fast-track options available?”
“N-no, no, there’s certainly not any ‘fast-track options’. Short cuts in behavioral training are how accidents happen and any injury to the public is a horrible reflection on our reputation and mission. Now, that’s not to say there aren’t different options available for training. If the client is serious about adopting, then they’ll fill out the forms to decide if they are approved first and foremost. From there, depending on their preference, we cou—”
As abrupt as a snake striking, a clawed hand lashed through the bars at Hange’s throat. At the sight of the pale flash of movement, Erwin reactively shoved the vampire into Hugh as his reflex prepared to draw his scythe. The desperate ambush was a meager two inches from lacerating into Hange’s neck and rupturing her carotid artery--had he been a fraction of a second slower.
“Hoohoo!” Hange gasped in surprise as she regained her balance. She adjusted her glasses to see the orchestrator of the attack, causing her eyes to bulge and take in the creature. “Well, hi to you too!”
The distorted rumbling was back, but not the same deep bellows emitting from his chest. The distinct difference was that it came from in the man’s throat, enhanced when the upper lip pulled in a snarl behind the steel muzzle. The hardware up close appeared clunky and painful, the upper part resting unkindly along the bridge of Levi’s nose. Plum mottling stained a band of contusions around his throat with uniformed cherry imprints, likely from the prongs of the cilice. Pressing against the bars as he was, everything that was lacking from view the day before was just waiting for Erwin to drink in.
The first of many wonders was that while he suspected Levi was shorter than average, confirming his height firsthand struck him anew. His stature was alarming deceiving, considering every minute cell in Erwin’s body was flashing warning signs over the predacious threat in his vicinity. Don’t be fooled by how easy he looks to overpower. There’s more than meets the eye, instincts told him.
Being so close to Levi had Erwin feeling oddly keyed up for being the one on the outside of the cage. Levi, on the other hand, was not deterred by that fact as he stared unflinchingly at Hange, the stillness reminiscent of a ravening statue. Even the hairs on the back of Erwin’s neck lifted and a challenging grumble snared free from Mike.
Levi’s pupils flitted between the four of them with palpable disdain, measuring the level of threat each posed. From the meager few feet of space, Erwin noticed that Levi’s eyes were a texture of grey like oppressive roiling thunderclouds with a ring of muted fiery orange surrounding the resinous pupil, reminiscent of a lunar eclipse. It was the tell-tell sign of Levi preparing to shift. If it wasn’t for his muzzle, Erwin was certain they’d be looking at a different version of the man entirely. Those unblinking eyes lingered on Mike, slowly panned to Erwin, before landing back onto Hange.
They fixated on her after that.
A shuddering laugh escaped Hange; composure entirely shaken. “Is this how he is with all new people?”
Hugh snapped back into focus as he jerkily reawakened the tablet. Scrolling on the screen, his growing unease offered little comfort to the group. “M-my apologies. There were notes from the medical team regarding heightened aggression--towards the vampire staff specifically. I didn’t anticipate him to actually challenge the bars. He’s been docile since we put him in the room.”
Erwin wasn’t sure where the man’s delusions stemmed from. Of all the wolvens in the intake department, Levi had been the least docile of the group.
Looking to appease Levi after realizing it was her presence that employed the belligerent reaction, Hange averted her gaze. To further calm him, she lifted her hands in the air as if at gunpoint, and tilted her head in supplication hoping to pacify the offended creature. It didn’t disarm Levi. But it was enough to coax him from the sit-and-wait stillness. The sort that Erwin had witness in wild cats before they lunged for the kill. Every muscle fiber hardened into marble; spring loaded to the point that the breaths were undistinguishable. The intimidating posture could trick anyone into thinking time had frozen for the hunter alone, while the rest of the world moved on.
Shaking off the failed ambush, Levi began to pace along the bars, eyes never leaving Hange while posturing at what was perceived as the edge of his territory. If he was in a wolven form, Erwin knew those hackles would be standing proudly on display elevating the imposing demonstration in the tiny cell. Growls continued to filter out behind chapped lips, not willing to miss a second opportunity if it presented itself.
Hange tried to mollify him further by sluggishly dropping to her knees, hands out to the side and neck further exposed. It was another step in the right direction as the growling tapered, but the pacing and glaring continued. Mike finally quieted as a result, though he hovered on the opposite side of Hange as her unspoken protector.
If Levi’s response to vampires was so extreme, flirting with the line of a feral reaction, Erwin wondered how he behaved for Lord Tybur. Judging by the muzzle and use of a cilice, it was safe to assume Levi’s demeanor was volatile even under Tybur’s care. Perhaps, the implements were the only way they could transport him between fights. Hugh mentioned the other wolven from the coven had claimed Levi was merely a pet, so unless he had undying loyalty to Tybur only, Erwin suspected any vampire was a target to him. He hoped the hypothesis of devotion to Tybur wasn’t true, and Levi would be amendable to listen to them, or else all of that work would be a waste.
As Levi paced the bars, Erwin’s attention was drawn to the rusty stain at the back of his shoulder, bleeding through the fabric and bandage. Another injury oozed a stain along the ribs, sweeping to his low back. Possibly the result of agitating the wounds when trying to attack Hange.
Another nervous laugh came from the vampire on her knees. “Mr. Conley. Do you have any of his blood samples available?”
“No. Unfortunately, all the samples we had were already used for his health exam or sent off for additional background checks.”
“Oh, well that’s a shame,” she replied before tilting her head slowly to Mike. “Go call Shadis for that warrant. I think we could benefit from learning more about Levi.”
Instantly, the grumbling returned as Levi rooted himself at the bars. The saffron ring in his iris fluctuated with his power, held back by the unforgiving contraption on his lower face. Hange cracked a smile at the threat, her fear dissipating the longer they were in his presence, as if Levi's display was nothing more than a bluff.
Erwin knew it wasn't. He hoped Hange did as well. The only comfort he had to go by was the way the boisterous vampire, who had no social grace or concept, was reduced to a timid being.
“So, you do understand us... That’s good, Levi. I’m not a threat, even if your instincts are telling you otherwise. Still, I’d like to ask you some questions.”
The thorny attitude didn’t let up. If anything, the warbling tempo returned, just below the canine-like growls. Erwin wasn’t sure what that meant for them. Mike had walked down the corridor to make the phone call to Shadis. Not that he could really distinguish the meaning himself.
Deciding to test the waters, Erwin stepped forward while keeping appropriate distance between Hange and the cage.
“I’ve been unspeakably rude, haven't I? This is the second day we’ve met, and I never introduced myself.”
For the first time, the man ripped his glower completely from Hange to observe him. The muted burn of Levi's gaze set Erwin's skin alight by the sheer ferocity behind it. It was in that moment that something within Erwin clicked into place, like a vertebrae's gentle pop after sitting for too long, reverence tugging at the cello cord. Intrigue spread throughout his chest cavity and before he knew it, Erwin's instincts were puppeteering him at the silent challenge. With a quick step, Erwin bridged the already small space between them, pleased when Levi didn't give in an inch, though something small and indistinguishable rolled across his face when he stiffened.
Erwin didn't push the wired man more than that, despite his typical curiosity begging to prod at another's reactions and see what would happen, constantly jostling for control. Instead, he fixed a smile that was soft and easy, "I’m Erwin Smith, and it’s a pleasure to meet you officially, Levi.”
The grumbling had slowly waned out of existence. The quiet that filled its space was only broken by Mike’s distant voice explaining the situation to Shadis down the hall. There was an unnerving weight that came with Levi’s stare, but Erwin schooled his features to remain genuine. Even as Levi slid his gaze to the submissive vampire then back again.
“If you’re willing to hear us out, I think we may be able to assist one another.”
***
If Erwin was hoping for any form of acknowledgement or civil response, he was sorely and irrevocably mistaken. Instead, his reward was a firsthand account of what it entailed to transport the moody creature to GSIS.
When the warrant was granted, custody was officially transferred to Mike to facilitate the move. While his name would be on the official documents from the shelter, he had no qualms with leaving the logistics in Erwin’s capable hands. Meanwhile, Hange dismissed herself in hopes it would calm the wolven enough to cooperate, but when even hostage negotiation techniques failed, Erwin knew they had to resort to less appealing measures.
Calling in a specialty transport van, the staff at the shelter assisted in sedating Levi and moving him into the sliding door where the Havis installed compartment awaited. The individual, armored section had a small bench with a seatbelt, though Erwin wasn’t entirely sure it would be enough to keep the heavily drugged man upright while driving. The alternative was to place him on the bench in the back, but that didn’t seem much safer, so they settled for propping Levi against the wall and hoping for the best.
Choosing to ride in the van with Nanaba, Erwin reflected on the abrupt interaction. He hadn’t had a chance to ask Hange what it was about Levi that the vampire instantly demanded custody. Aside from the noise Levi was accustomed to making, he appeared just as wolven as any other of his kind. He would certainly be asking her about it once they arrived.
“I have the boys waiting for us at the back to help transfer him,” Nanaba informed as they followed Mike’s SUV back to GSIS. “I figured they could help instead of taking advantage of their usual gym time. Make them sweat a little while being productive.”
“I’m sure they appreciate that,” Erwin teased, craning his gaze over his shoulder to look through the back.
The metal screen window did very little to offer a view in Levi’s compartment, especially with no solid source of light. Taking advantage of their witness’ unconscious state, he tried to prod at Levi’s soul, picking out a faint emanation through the metal barrier. A pallid tenor, meddled with obscurity, lingered within Levi’s core, feeling as if Erwin was trying to see a clear image through a fogged mirror. Misty and muted. It lacked any solid color as some souls tended to tint with, almost appearing washed-out.
Sighing, he turned back to the road as they approached the security gates at the back of the building. At least, he was able to sense the man’s soul. That eased some nagging concern he hadn’t been aware he was carrying since the day prior.
After passing through security, Mike’s vehicle swerved into a parking spot as Nanaba maneuvered the van, so the side was facing the back doors to the basement holding cells. Out of the passenger window, Erwin spotted Jean and Eren pushing off the wall, along with Moblit who hauled out a collapsable gurney from the building's shadow.
Erwin’s hand found the latch and he swung himself out of the vehicle, eager to get Levi settled inside. Around the engine compartment, Mike and Hange regrouped with the team, while a mix of inquisitive glances flickered to the quiet van.
“So?” Jean asked. “What’s the plan?”
“We’ll take him to the lab first,” Hange answered. “I need to get bloodwork and preferably that muzzle off of him.”
“You know,” Mike replied, looking directly at Erwin, “he’ll likely shift as soon as he’s awake and out of the gear. If he’s that freaked out, he may not shift back to his human form for a couple of days.”
Feeling off kilter by Mike’s implications, he narrowed his gaze at his friend. “You’re not actually suggesting keeping the muzzle on, are you?”
“No,” he answered, but his demeanor never shifted from the stoic delivery. “Just letting you know that’s probably the only thing keeping him in his human form. I know you want to get answers from him. Hard to do it if he’s unable to speak.”
“On the plus side,” Hange interjected cheerfully, “if he does decide to shift then it gives us a chance to confirm whether he’s wolven with damaged vocal cords or a hybrid!”
There was always that.
“He understands us to some extent,” Erwin contemplated aloud. “When we were talking to him, Levi was actively listening. I think, if given some time to adjust and understand what our goal is, he’ll be easier to interview and I’m sure we can convince him to shift back if it comes down to it.”
Mike shrugged. “Fine with me. If anything, it may benefit to put cuffs on him, just until we know he won't attack anyone through the bars again.”
Erwin couldn't argue with that logic. The last thing he wanted was for someone to walk too close and get a personal introduction to Levi's ambush.
“Alright,” Hange clapped her hands together. “Jean, Eren. Why don’t you two help Moblit get our new friend strapped down on the gurney. We’ll take him to the lab and you guys,” she gestured to Mike, Nanaba, and Erwin, “can deal with ensuring the cell is ready and Shadis is informed.”
Conditioned to follow the vampire’s orders whenever anything involved her work, the group dispersed to their tasks. Hange went through the keyed entry door to make sure the halls were clear for a hasty relocation while Mike and Nanaba headed inside to update Shadis.
Erwin opted to stay behind, overseeing the transfer. The holding cell would be easy enough to check once Levi was in the lab with Hange and Moblit. Not to mention, he wasn’t keen to address all the questions Shadis would undoubtably have for him once he learned that the Tybur fighter was what held Erwin’s attention for the last two days. He was sure the Director had assumed a different kind of lead when he mentioned it. Something more professional.
Stepping out of the way, he watched as Moblit pushed the gurney to the side panel of the van while Eren slid the exterior door along the tracks. Busying himself with unlocking the armored compartment within, Jean cursed under his breath while fumbling for another of the identical keys after the first failed. The second proved just as useless when the locking cylinder didn’t budge.
“Anytime today, Jean-boy,” Eren griped, folding his arms over his chest while leaning a shoulder against the van.
“Quit yapping. It’s not my fault they don’t color-code the damn things.”
“There’re like four options on the ring. What sort of organization system do you need to unlock a stupid door.”
Jean glared at him as he inserted the third one. “It’s not a question about ability. It’s the principle. What if the weather was pouring and we wanted to rush inside? Or even if an accident occurred and we had to extract someone quickly... Ever think of that?”
The internal bolt slipped free of the mechanism and everything—all at once--happened.
The door exploded on its reinforced hinges with unpredicted force, slamming Jean backwards into the gurney. The impact jolted the stretcher out of Moblit’s grip, and it twisted around, knocking Moblit to the ground while the metal bars at the head of the gurney thumped into Eren’s ribs, winding the wolven. In that same breath, Levi--not at all anesthetized--launched at Jean who barely managed to stay on his feet. It was short lived as Levi collided with his midsection taking them both to the concrete in a heap of scraped skin and gravel.
The slam of the back of Jean’s head into the concrete was a loud crack, but he stayed conscious, if dazed. In the blind disarrangement, he managed to react quickly enough to dislodge Levi’s balance before he could fully post up and eviscerate him. But Levi was quick and agile, even in his semi-doped state, finding perch on the reaper’s abdomen and aiming to tear into his chest. Erwin had erupted into movement as soon as the door had burst open, but he was too slow to prevent Levi’s sharpened nails finding home in Jean’s torso. With a cry, and clenched eyes, Jean tried to summon his scythe with his free hand while the other worked to shove Levi off.
As the wolven reeled his arm back for another strike at Jean’s jugular, Erwin reached the fray in time to seize Levi’s wrist while his other hand snagged the back of the steel muzzle. He swung the small body up and away from Jean, smashing Levi front first into the side of the van and prying his entrapped arm to his lower back. Erwin's fingers curled tighter around the muzzle's rung as Levi thrashed with all he could muster when pressed into the vehicle siding, desperate to get free.
“Calm down, Levi! Stop!”
When flailing didn’t get the snarling man away, Levi’s unrestricted hand scratched and dug into the paint of the van, emitting a shrilling screech to ping Erwin’s eardrums, not unlike nails on chalkboard. It was a mad attempt to scaffold up the side or get leverage. Then, unwittingly, Erwin’s attention zeroed in on the way Levi’s tapered, curved claws began to peel through the metal like the soft flesh of an orange, slitting the pads of his fingers in the process. The unbidden image of those nails peeling into him next was all that flooded his mind.
Oh, fuck no.
Erwin brought Levi’s head back, then knocked the muzzle into the van harshly. But it failed to disorientate or distract Levi. If anything, it just pissed him off.
“Levi—Just settle down!” Erwin tried again, realizing his error.
As expected, it was far too late to reason. Levi didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know who was friend or who was enemy. The recoiling effort to get free was instead redirected after Erwin’s desistance.
Redirected by trying to bury that troublesome hand into Erwin’s gut.
Levi jerked his unrestrained arm back, swing wildly to reach him. Erwin instinctively arched away to avoid the contact in the last hair of a second. Something then shredded—tore. Risking a fleeting glance down, he saw the front of his fine coat flayed in three short ribbons, popping loose a button that was forever gone. Belatedly, he realized the snarling and savagery growls Levi was orchestrating were not the same as the noises from the shelter. These were a clear expression of his desire to inflict as much pain as possible. One would say demonic, even. Erwin didn’t need anyone to translate it for him. There was no misunderstanding the interpretation to get the fuck off him and die.
The scrambling hand reached blinding for Erwin again, while Levi continued to thrash, and truthfully, it felt like Erwin was trying to subdue a hurricane in a glass jar, hoping it wouldn’t shatter at any second beneath his palm and break free.
“Get a tranq!” he shouted, not daring to take his eyes off Levi. “Now!”
At the sound of the tranquilizer, an inhuman yell came from the furious man, a mix between bellow and a bark. Erwin didn’t think anything in human form could make a noise so hellish but there he was, witnessing it up close and personal. Feeling the percussion against his ears, the sweat of the man conjoining with his own. The warbling returned, as Levi's pinprick pupils glared heatedly at Erwin over his shoulder, appearing more orange than grey.
“Hurry up!”
“We’re getting it! We’re getting it!” someone shouted.
Distantly, he heard more commotion followed by the feminine, “Son ova bitch! What the hell is happening?!”
Levi’s flailing arm gave up trying to reach Erwin as he chose to return his energy back to getting out of the sandwich between the Reaper and van. It gave Erwin fleeting seconds to glance behind him to see where the others were at. Moblit and Eren were crouched beside a canvas bag, working on getting a syringe from its packaging. Jean stood behind them with his scythe at the ready and one arm folded over his bleeding chest while shooting anxious looks between the two groups. Sprinting from the building, Hange hurried to the chaos, absolutely flustered at the shit show taking place in the parking lot.
It took only the tiniest beat of distraction for it to happen. Whether between his flooding adrenaline or trying to keep the metaphorical, brittle glass jar from shattering, Erwin failed to realize what occurred next.
He felt the heat. Then the pain was so sudden and intense, he thought his palm had gone cold. As if plunged into a frozen lake and held there. And then the unmistakable smell of burning flesh tickled his nose just as the nerves started to cauterize.
It was Erwin’s composure that shattered before the jar, a yell born from agony and shock as he was forced to release the blazing hot steel of the muzzle. He exchanged it by grabbing the back of Levi’s neck and pushing him into the van again, not at all kindly. If he wasn't taken aback or overwhelmed by pain, he would've been more careful to not cause any head trauma to the witness--but at least, for a brief moment, the struggle subsided. The impact had stunned Levi enough to go still, yet not enough to slump. As expected, the break was short lived, particularly with the tempering muzzle pressed into Levi’s cheek and outer wall of the vehicle. Steadily, Levi's struggles began again just as the heat transferred. The van's siding popped and warped in a dent, the paint bubbling as chemicals reached their melting point. The smell of burnt flesh was replaced by the acidic tinge of vaporizing car paint. Someone was screaming for him to ‘get away’ and ‘what the fuck?!’.
Blinking out of his adrenaline-fueled tunnel vision, Erwin’s eyes dropped from the reforging of the van taking place to the little circular door 6 inches below Levi’s chin. Right where the petrol tank was. All he could hear echoing in his head like an ominous foreshadow was the van exploding, sounding so real that it had him swinging the volatile creature from the vehicle and onto the concrete to avoid ignition before he realized it. Erwin moved his body to straddle the back of the other’s thighs just as Eren came running up with the injection, handing it over in the air.
An uncharacteristic surge of resentment rose up as Erwin glared at the syringe in the space between them. What did the kid expect him to do? Let off a hand to grab it? He was a little fucking busy trying not to be eviscerated!
“Use it!” he barked, pinning Levi’s once free arm beneath his knee, the other crushed against the asphalt. “Goddammit, Eren—use it!”
“W-what?” Eren faltered instantly unsure and out of his depth. It was a strange look on the wolven who was usually so eager to launch into danger at the first sign and prove himself. Now, his youth and lack of experience were on full display.
Fortunately—thank any deity out there—Hange was a solid, composed pillar.
She ripped the syringe from Eren’s hand and jabbed the needle into Levi’s thigh. The plunger sank down at a steady pace despite the creature’s struggling, but Hange was unperturbed. She met Erwin’s gaze momentarily, then extracted the syringe, handing it to Moblit for disposal.
“Can you manage to keep him there for a few minutes?” she asked, watching as Erwin was jostled by Levi’s writhing.
“Yes. How long?” Was he genuinely winded? Erwin readjusted his knee, sliding it to pin the back of Levi’s hand for better support as he continued to breathe heavily.
“3-5 minutes. We can switch if you need to.”
“No. It’s fine. He won’t go anywhere.”
Levi’s renewed frenzy argued otherwise, though he continued to fail in dislodging the reaper.
Hange didn’t ask further questions, keeping an eye on them as she directed Jean to get medical attention. Moblit and Eren remained, waiting for the drug to take effect. True to her assessment, within minutes Levi’s struggles weakened. His strength seemed to puddle out into the concrete as his muscles slumped and his growling diminished into equally deep gasps. Hange stood over Erwin, checking her watch but didn’t give him the signal to release their witness just yet.
Taking the chance to appreciate the situation, and the level of ferocity that Levi contained in his small figure, Erwin noticed that the muzzle had returned to normal color of drab grey and there were no signs of burns along Levi's cheek or jaw that Erwin could see. In the scuffle, the collar of Levi’s shirt had stretched out, at some point ripping the bandage over the back of his shoulder off. Hovering so close to the weeping injury, he could make out the bitemarks of what could be mistaken as a human mouth--had it not been for the two distinct circular punctures of fangs. It wasn’t a feeding mark. Evidence of vampiric drinking were only of fangs, not the upper and bottom indentions of blunt teeth as well. The injury looked only a couple days old with aubergine purple and navy stippling, and it didn’t escape Erwin that it was the same exact location as the fatal injury on the wolven in the morgue. Unashamedly, Erwin itched to examine it further and run his finger along the strange bite, but lamented that his hands were diligently occupied.
After another minute passed, where Levi eventually fell pliant and docile, Hange was back in action directing everyone.
“Alright, Moblit used Telazol to tranq him, so that gives us 40-45 minutes of safe handling. Let’s get him to the lab pronto.”
Erwin pushed off the ground, marveled to see Levi remain unmoving beneath him, completely and helplessly vulnerable. The man’s eyes were half-lidded, though continued to track Erwin sluggishly. Even as Eren and Moblit lifted him on the gurney, his gaze loitered on the reaper, yet through the wet shine, Erwin couldn’t tell what the other was thinking.
He hoped this wasn’t the start of an unwavering grudge. That just wouldn’t do.
Erwin caught the tail end of the orders to administer a light dosage of gas once in the lab before they took Levi inside. Hange lingered in the parking lot with him, waving off the security guard Erwin hadn’t notice standing near the van, too distracted in tracking the gurney until it disappeared behind the door.
“Can you park that for us? Thanks! We'll document the damage later!” Not waiting for a response, Hange picked up the fallen canvas bag and grabbed Erwin’s wrist. “Let me see.”
The grimace that followed seemed to reawaken the pain in his palm, the convenience of distraction was taken away along with Levi.
“How fascinating. That was from the muzzle?” she asked, meeting his eyes.
“Yes. I’m not entirely sure what he did in the moment to cause it to heat, but it didn’t appear he was affected." He paused. "I know it goes without saying, but I’d like you to make sure he wasn’t injured by it. I’m sure it was a reaction out of fear of his situation than true aggression... Also, it'd be wise if we kept this to ourselves.”
“I agree,” she prodded gently around the band of splotchy red, blistered, and oddly wet skin. It ran across his palm with a matching stripe along the inside of his fingers. “I think we can safely rule out the unusual noises being a result of past throat injuries. Until we know what exactly he is, we’ll continue to refer to him as a wolven. I have a feeling your Tybur suspect had his reasons for not announcing what Levi truly is.” A hardness fell across her features as she stared him. “It may be in our best interest to assume Tybur will try to keep it that way.”
As she released his hand, Erwin took in the damage done. Hange’s gut was about as trustworthy as his own. A mix of apprehension and thrill hit him over what having Levi in their care would entail. Perhaps it'd yield the answers he was looking for or possibly bring only trouble. Either way, he was excited to find out. Even more so to learn about the man and what he could do.
Flexing his tortured hand, he replayed everything that had just occurred, absorbing the discomfort with the information. The amount of strength used in fighting back. The relentless ambition to earn his freedom no matter the cost. Just how modest Levi felt beneath him with his stature. It was a novel pain, unfamiliar, and he took the time to taste the newness of the experience. As predicted, it was an addicting flavor. One he wanted more of.
Notes:
In case there's any concerns, Levi is still Levi. He's just hiding under his instincts at the moment but will come out of his shell eventually... (When he stops being so cranky and distrustful.) Nothing personal, Hange! XD
Also, there's been questions regarded ages for our lovely characters and how it compares over the years. The chart gives a rough idea of progression with a similar trait to tree growth data. The older they get, the less they appear to age (Please don't look too closely at my inner plant nerd coming out 😶) Anyway, I hope it helps paint a picture.
Thank you for reading! It was a short piece of action here, but there'll be a bit more in each of the following chapters. And we're almost to the point of Levi's actual reveal 😁 Hope everyone's having a good winter and staying safe! 🩶🖤
Chapter 7: Linseed Oil and Soup
Notes:
TW: More murder to come (big surprise) Wonder what the plot's death count will be by the end of it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
Erwin flexed his hand around the snug bandage.
Even an hour after the incident it was scalding and continuing to swell. Moving it agitated the tortured flesh more, earning another reprimand from Nanaba to stop fussing with the medical tape. But the pain was unrelenting. The agony may as well be a neon sign with the way it inserted itself, uninvited, into the walls of his mind. A constant source that demanded his attention.
Jean’s chest had sustained significant injury as well. While not life-threatening, he needed a few dozen stitches. Fortunately, speedy healing would ensure that in a week, Jean would likely bare mere scars as a reminder of the parking lot brawl. There was no doubt about it; Erwin too would be counting the days down until his own wound stopped its insistent throbbing.
Beside him, Mike scooted the chair closer to Erwin, scraping the legs across the laminate floor in an irritating fashion. The impish smirk was proof he was doing it on purpose to provoke Erwin further. When he intentionally bumped into Erwin’s seat, Mike leaned towards the bandaged hand, giving it a sniff. Then he sat back and fixed Erwin with a serious, tightlipped look.
“Well... It’s not gangrenous. I think you’ll live at least another day.”
“Wonderful,” Erwin replied dryly. Somedays he genuinely contemplated how he and Mike were such good friends.
“Hey, Erwin.”
He looked over at the new voice to see Hange walking into the conference room.
“How’s that burn?”
“Infection free, per Mike,” he quipped sourly, earning a snicker. Not finding the energy to pull himself from his poor mood and join in the humor--that certainly wasn’t directed at him--he asked, “How’s Levi? Any other incidences?”
“No. Fortunately,” she plopped into the chair beside Nanaba. “I wanted to give him a sponge bath or wipe him down, but Moblit told me not to risk it. Good thing too because after we got the guy settled in the cell, he started to wake.”
“What did you find out?” Nanaba asked.
Hange gave a tilted head shrug. “Aside from his insusceptibility to anesthesia, not a whole lot yet. He’s underweight, has various lacerations on his body with the worst wrapping around his back. Likely a fractured rib. The shelter did a satisfactory job with the stitches, so we just cleaned the serious injuries and rewrapped. I didn’t even bother counting the contusions on his body. He has some along his jaw from the muzzle, but that’s to be expected. It was never meant to be worn long term.” Hange paused in her list, humming thoughtfully before adding, “There was a vampiric bite on his shoulder though. Not a usual one either. Looked like someone was trying to actually take a chunk off of him.”
Erwin perked up in his seat, the droning ache fading into the background. “So, there is something strange with that. Forgive my ignorance, but I’m not overly accustomed to the more intricate vampiric habits. That’s not... That bite wouldn’t be...”
A bleak frown overshadowed her prior amusement. “A mating bite?”
Erwin gave a single nod. He’d heard some vampires would assert themselves over lesser beings as a way of possession, even if they weren’t intimate or the act consensual. A mating bite was not limited to one individual as some stories would imply and could link many together under the head of a household. Similarly, wolvens that were adopted out and permitted to enter the public were forced to have a sort of blood bond between them and their owners. A precaution for extra control. It consisted of old magic, and the application varied between species.
“No. Mating bites share an appearance with feeding marks, though the difference is that they scar and carry a scent of their significant other through allomone chemicals. It's not a bond mark from an owner either, as those aren't overly obvious. Some bond marks could be mistaken as small tattoos. The bite on Levi... It was meant to inflict harm. Could've been a punishment. Other than that, I don’t know what spurred it on or anything. Judging by some of the coloring of the bruises, however, it’s safe to say he wasn’t treated very kindly before the events of the fight.”
Mike grunted his ire. “That’s not uncommon, sadly. WMC tries to vet potential owners, but it isn’t that difficult to hide domestic abuse. Aside from the first year with a case worker following up in intervals, there isn’t any accountability.”
Erwin sucked in a breath. “I wouldn’t suspect something like that would stop a person such as Tybur. Don’t forget, there’s no proof he ever legally owned Levi to begin with.”
“I can guarantee he didn’t,” Mike replied, and Erwin was inclined to agree.
“Smith! Zacharias!”
Had the door not already been open to the conference room, Erwin was sure Shadis would’ve slammed it upon entry. He strode in with haste glaring at everyone in attendance. Either resigning or satisfied with the four veteran team members present, he shut the door of the conference room, encasing them in what would likely become their tomb.
Bracing his hands flat on the table, he stared hard between Erwin and the Zacharias couple, jaw bunched, and wrinkles furrowed. The thin shadows in the room seemed to shift and pull with the Director’s ire as his presence ballooned, swallowing the space he occupied on the opposite side of the table. While he physically stayed the same, an undercurrent of unease rippled amongst all present from the Reaper’s flexing power.
“What in the ever-loving Hell are you thinking, Smith?! We have a group of children playing serial killer and a slighted Coven pulling media into this mess--and you go galivanting off to bring some wolven fighter here?! I told you I’d give you more time to follow leads to tie Grice to the case—not bring a feral beast into the building! And you let an agent get injured in the process! Give me a reason why I shouldn’t administer reprimanding actions for this!”
“Sir,” Mike began, doing well to appear both chastened and unassertive, “we believe what happened was a simple mistake that the shelter made in administering the sedation. The wolven is smaller, so it’s likely—”
“And you!” Shadis turned his fury onto his agents, not interested in Mike’s untruthful excuse. “Why are you two enabling Smith? Because of some sense of loyalty from old times or because he’s your friend? He’s not your boss anymore. You’re his! I expect you to be an extension of myself and keep him in line!”
When Nanaba spoke, Shadis had enough sense to not bulldoze over her. Either stemming from mutual respect for her position as team leader or because he knew it would not be tolerated by Mike, it was anyone’s guess.
“Sir. The wolven in question may have further information on Lord Tybur’s knowledge regarding the murders. He wasn’t in a constructive environment at the shelter to ask there, which is why we requested the court orders to take custody.”
“Had I known he was practically feral, I would’ve denied your request, Zacharias. You three purposefully withheld that information,” he retorted haughtily.
Nanaba pushed on regardless, “What happened in the parking lot was an unfortunate accident that we would’ve prevented had we known the outcome. In the end, Erwin and Jean were mildly scuffed up and we didn’t lose the wolven. It was resolved.”
“He’s also not feral,” Mike mumbled.
Shadis pushed off the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “He certainly appears feral from the goddamn security footage I just watched! You better hope he’s not on the fringes of becoming a liability.”
“You can go check on him yourself,” Hange piped in calmly from the side. All eyes landed on her as she splayed her palms up in a gesture of supplication and shrugged. “Considering the trauma he’s experienced, for who knows how long, and the events from the last few days, he’s valid in his feelings to be afraid. I’m certain that’s the core of his actions. Can’t fault him for acting on self-defense.”
“I can when it threatens my people and the public's faith in GSIS.”
Hange readjusted her attempt to mollify the livid reaper in the only way that stood a chance at being successful; by throwing Erwin under the bus. “They say pain is a masterful teacher. I’m sure Erwin is learning from this oversight with his reminder.”
Hange wasn’t wrong. For a moment there, the burn had faded from the forefront of his mind with Shadis’ beratement. But after mentioning it, the damn thing returned, claiming greedily a plot of space in the forefront of his mind.
Fortunately for his waning tolerance, Shadis was a bit of a sadist, therefore, knowing Erwin was injured for his supposed transgression, appeased the old reaper. Predictable.
With no shortage of menace, Shadis reiterated, “I will not tolerate another incident like this. One more display of incompetence with the wolven and there will be consequences. I suggest you get the information you need from him quickly so he can go back to the shelter.”
Without another word, he left the room, taking the suffocating pressure with him.
***
Upon the unavoidable visit, Erwin could see that while having emerged from the clotting sedation, Levi continued to be hampered by its effects. Sitting on the flimsy mattress, the man glared at him through glazed eyes and his posture was furled inward by exhaustion. It looked as if he was using every ounce of strength to remain alert and upright, and Erwin was certain he even caught a miniscule sway in the man’s upper body, though Levi hid it well by propping against the cinderblock wall for support.
The cell wasn’t much of an upgrade from the shelter. Similarly uninviting toilet and sink with the bed fastened to the concrete floor. Not the best way to convince Levi he was in a better position, though it would be a lie if he told him so. Having custody of the wolven only delayed the inevitable if criminal records happened to resurface from another country.
Seeing the state of Levi, along with a heaping of common sense, Erwin recognized any questions he had would have to wait. Regardless, the reaper was keen to make the most of the interaction, no matter how small the progress resulted in.
“I brought you some spare blankets. And soup.” Erwin lifted the bundle of fabrics and paper bag in a simple indication. Levi’s unimpressed glare never wavered. “Hange mentioned you may get cold with the issued bedding, not to mention they aren’t the best quality... I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything substantial lately, so I presumed soup would be easier on your stomach.”
When he didn’t get a response or any sign of interest, Erwin crouched at the base of the cell and set the items snuggly between the bars. The ceiling was too high and bore nothing to tie the blankets to if Levi decided to manifest a noose, and the paper cup of soup was easy enough to drink from without a plastic spoon to patent a weapon. Not that Levi needed a weapon when apparently, he was one. The only restraints he currently had were specialty cuffs around his wrists to make it easier to manage him if need be.
Neatly folding the paper bag until it fit into his pocket, Erwin continued, “I’m sure you have questions. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to answer them.”
Stepping away from his offerings, he occupied the lone chair against the opposite wall, usually designated for extra guards assigned to the disorderly occupants.
“There’s no rush. But I would advise drinking your soup before it gets too cold.” He left it at that. A suggestion. Levi would be free to do as he pleased from there.
Pulling out his book that he brought, Erwin crossed one leg over the other and began reading. He wasn’t overzealous to believe Levi would be ready to carry a conversation so early after the transportation incident, though he was inclined to display his indifference on the matter. There were many questions brimming behind Erwin’s lips, prodding for the opportunity to spill forth, but he harnessed his eagerness.
Levi was disoriented. Confused, no doubt, and on edge. The simple act of sharing space with the wolven and the lack of vocal dissonance was a massive improvement in Erwin’s opinion. One he wanted to cement further by seeing how long it would last. He found himself hoping it wasn’t the drugs keeping Levi from growling and rather intrigue or even acknowledgment that Erwin meant no harm.
He flipped to the next page, noting the lack of movement occurring in the cell. The savory aroma of the soup reached Erwin, and he knew Levi could smell it from where he was at. But the wolven stubbornly remained where he was, guarded and scrutinizing Erwin with no shortage of distrust.
They continued to bask in mutual silence. Uninterrupted. Only the crinkle of pages turning to mark the passing of time or the shuffling of another prisoner further away. Near the half hour mark, Erwin lifted his gaze to observe Levi, catching the dip of the wolven’s chin before he jerked himself awake. Exhausted, yet continuing to fight sleep. When Levi noticed he was being watched, the laxed features tightened, screwing on a renewed glare. But as before, no other growling persisted.
Erwin debated with himself--while refusing to look away and hide his reflection--whether to wait Levi out. If Levi were to succumb to sleep, his body compelling him into the most vulnerable position possible, it’d provide an opportunity for Erwin to display his refusal to take advantage of the situation. It was a coercive and manipulative method to gain trust, playing primarily toward influencing Levi’s subconscious rather than allowing cognitive processing. A dirty trick, certainly, especially as it bordered on conditioning. But if Levi fell asleep and woke up to realize he was safe and unharmed under Erwin's watchful eye, it’d benefit the reaper’s intentions and build rapport.
While Erwin wasn’t above mild forms of manipulating others in his favor, he wasn’t keen to use Levi’s weakness against him so early. Instead, he decided acknowledging it with blatant honesty would provide a deeper reward, even if delayed.
“You look tired, Levi.”
The man stiffened but remained quiet. Erwin didn’t press for a response, taking the opportunity to trace over the muzzle free face, noting the sharp chin and cracked lips. Levi’s almond eyes were awned by thick lashes, flinty as they pursued every gesture and micro expression Erwin displayed. Dried blood crusted on his lower lip and Erwin made a note to bring extra water for him to ensure he was hydrated properly. What drew Erwin’s attention the most were the sodden inky locks that hung in a heap around Levi’s blanch complexion. It gave a rather alluring impression of an opaque pearl in a charcoal, velvet box.
Even with the lights on in the cell, it remained in a perpetual dimness from the upper levels. Not too dark to navigate their surroundings, nor too bright to hinder sleep. A haircut would do wonders for the man, and the thought was soon trailed by what Levi would look like if someone had invested in his wellbeing. Levi’s defined bone structure was reminiscent of a classic hallmark French vision. With some care and consideration, it wouldn’t strike Erwin as a surprised that the man was beautiful under all the consolidated years of neglect.
Forcing himself back from his—bordering intrusive—observation, Erwin quietly shut his book and stood. “I’ll let you get some rest. You certainly need it. Please,” he nodded to the soup and blankets. "I insist you help yourself. It’d be a shame if you weren’t comfortable during your stay.”
Levi glanced at the materials by Erwin’s feet, then to the reaper. A slow blink was the only response, as if expecting a trick. After all, it was unlikely acts of kindness came frequently to the wolven. Levi was probably anticipating the other shoe to drop.
Not today, Erwin mused.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Perhaps we can get around to some of the questions you have, even make a game of it, if you’d like. And here,” Erwin hadn’t intended on it, but banked on the gesture adding further enticement, “you can read this book if you get bored. I’d be interested in your opinion on it.”
Belatedly, after setting the book amongst the blankets, he realized his mistake. He wasn’t sure if Levi even knew how to read. Most wolvens without citizenship were limited in what education they received. It was rather presumptuous of him to assume Levi’s circumstances were different. Rather than retracting the offer, however, Erwin forced himself to leave it, deciding that if anything, it would give Levi something to fiddle with until the next day.
Ready to go home and put more ointment on his hand, Erwin bid the wolven goodnight and walked down the hall, straining his ears for any hint to Levi moving. When nothing came, Erwin paused at the junction of the hall, glancing behind him once more at the quiet cell. He turned back just in time to witness a distrustful hand snake out to snatch the paper container and disappear out of sight. Never a sound made except for the muted sloshing of soup.
The victory was enough to soothe Erwin’s mood for the rest of the drive home that night.
***
The easel cradled the massive canvas lovingly, accepting each stroke of the brush and absorbing the paint like a debutante cherishing chaste affection. Willy stood amongst the slanted ray of filtered light, applying the bold hues with adept precision. The only other source of natural illumination in the room was a second window with the heavy brocade pulled back to shine on the subjects. A caressing breeze sifted in, refreshing the room with autumn's presence and dulling the tang of the linseed oil of the paint that tickled his sensitive nose.
In the center of the room, a plush bed was brought in specifically for Willy’s project, where three individuals held the organized poses. While many artists preferred their subjects to remain still in their positions, Willy liked to incorporate social engagement and action into his piece, especially in such recreations of classical compositions.
Peering around the canvas, Willy observed the guest of honor, sprawled on his back and naked with a carmine throw over his hips to preserve his modesty. The man’s head reclined on the edge of the egg-shell white mattress, with his dark shoulder-length locks spilling off the side. Every time Willy peeked around the edge of the canvas, he was met with a distasteful dopey smile, which was thankfully obscured by the unruly beard of the mechanic who gazed back languidly.
The open affection went utterly ignored. Willy’s purpose was to capture his reconstruction flawlessly, and no drunken, lust-filled human would distract him from that.
“Evelyn, darling,” Willy addressed the beauty standing at the edge of the mattress, auburn curls coiffed, and donning an umber garment. She lifted her gaze to him, and he flipped the tip of the Kolinsky Sable brush around, so the wooden end gestured toward her arms. It’d be rude to point with the pigmented end otherwise. “You’ll want to roll your sleeves up for the finale.”
Her hand retreated from where it had been combing through the human’s hair, soothing him to hold still for the painting. As instructed, she rolled up the sleeves of the bronze-toned dress past her elbows.
“Perfect.”
He returned to applying oil paint to canvas. Blending, smoothing, highlighting. Methodical and practiced. Meanwhile, Evelyn went back to appeasing the human who was too deep in a daze to care or notice. Willy never took the time to learn his name. His coven members had done the work for him in procuring the human for Willy’s hobby, so his knowledge stopped at what he could collect from sharing the same space. He knew he was a mechanic simply by the stench of grease that lingered on the man, seeping into his pores despite the shower.
For a while longer, Willy continued, listening to Litvinovsky - Tales of the Magic Tree resonate off the walls. The romantic 12-piece string orchestra bounced into a leery foreshadow, deepening and slowing into an easy reverberation. His brush slipped down the canvas, a wake of peach moistening the flesh and bringing suppleness to the replicant across from him. The strings began to quicken into a tense jaunt, crescendo as they reached their peak.
“Ivar,” Willy called out, not tearing his gaze from the canvas as his hand worked. The valet moved closer from the side of the room, ready to assist in whatever he asked. “Let’s put on something a tad upbeat. Not so... intense, hm? Don’t want our guest to be uncomfortable.”
“Of course, my Lord.”
He strode to the antiquated Gramophone that never left the room, only used for nostalgic reminiscent hobbies such as that afternoon. The music paused in mid-ballad as the valet worked on finding something more to his master’s liking.
“I hadn’t intended to re-create this masterpiece so exquisitely,” Willy mused aloud to no one in particular. He found himself willing to fill the empty room with idle chatter. “If you’re pious, you’d recall that the biblical text explains Holofernes was so enchanted by Judith’s beauty that he drank far too much wine then he should’ve in her presence. The presence of someone who was not an ally, mind you. A foolish mistake.”
He leaned closer to the canvas to add lighter shades along Evelyn’s forearms to mimic the faint sunlight peeking through the imported curtains.
“For those that appreciate fine art and are competent to value the complexities of such a piece, one would see it as a splendid representation of a victor’s folly in history. He had besieged Judith’s city, and his amour propre foolishly convinced himself Judith was offering her body and flesh as a prize.”
He leaned around the side of the easel smiling sweetly to the human who returned it, crow's feet crinkling at the rewarded attention he desperately craved from the elegant blond.
“But that was not the case, was it?”
Willy dipped away, not waiting for the human’s response. Not that he was cultured enough to know what Willy was talking about, let alone what he was in the middle of modernizing.
A new piece began to play with an upbeat, but not festive, tempo. The chattering of the solo violin began its tremolo notes mimicking that of swirling icy wind. Vivaldi - The Four Seasons, Concerto No. 4 "Winter".
“Hm, good choice, Ivar.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Pausing from his work, he retreated a few steps to take in the canvas and ran a comparison to the scene before him. His valet took advantage of his lull to come forth with a tray holding a lone stemmed glass filled moderately with burgundy liquid. Willy set the brush on the palette and delicately plucked the offering, bringing it to his lips while observing the figures around the mattress.
Evelyn, filling the place as his ‘Judith’, was delicate in her thin frame. A bit more reminiscent of Caravaggio’s take on the imagery than Artemisia, but he preferred the harsher contrast for his reconstruction. Behind her, kneeling on the edge of the mattress and braced in a hover over the human’s midsection was Olivia, donning a less showy azure gown and fabric keeping her wild brunette hair from her face. It was meant to display a haggard appearance, but her beauty was hard to cover up. She was equally delicate and looked more fitting to be out in a garden amongst hydrangeas than here. The human, on the other hand was muscular and a bear of a man. He attended the gym frequently and fed upon protein-rich diets judging by his build, but Willy could tell cardio was not a favored exercise for him.
Willy took another sip of his drink, tongue slipping out to chase any thick lingering copper on his bottom lip while he hummed.
“I think we’re ready now.”
The tray was offered and he set the glass down.
“Phine,” he called to his daughter who was sitting on a salmon recamier behind him, nose in a book as usual. She perked her head up with interest “Can you fetch the bowl? Time for our finale.”
She slid off the sofa easily, picking up the large crystalware between her arms as she walked to the scene. Evelyn smiled at her as she approached, which she reciprocated before setting the bowl down.
Her golden ponytail swishing with the movements, making Willy internally amused at how innocent and cute she was. His little flower child, always with a smile. To humans, she would look like an adolescent in her pre-teen years. In a way that wasn’t too far off from vampire progression, but she was mature beyond that of her peers with the intelligence to rival most university alumni. His pride out of all five children.
He stared at the crystal bowl as she returned to her seat, seeing the clear liquid inside already but wanting to make sure. Afterall, they only had one shot to make this worth it.
“You put the sodium fluoride and potassium oxalate in already?”
“Yes, daddy.” He could hear the feigned exasperation in her tone. “I only forgot one time.”
“Just making sure. I always like to--”
“Trust but verify, I know.”
He smiled to himself. Smart girl.
“Alright, ladies. I’m ready when you are.” Dropping his gaze to the dazed human, he offered a genuine smile, tilting his head in a respectable nod. “Thank you, sir, for your assistance. I promise I will do you the highest honors in this piece.”
No sooner did he pick up the brush and palette did the women’s fangs extend and cardinal red flooded their irises. Evelyn’s nails elongated and hardened, ripping into the mechanic’s throat while Olivia held the thrashing human down with a sneer.
Claws were exchanged in place of the sword in Willy’s rendition of Judith Slaying Holofernes, 1620–21. Wild screeches and sharp teeth instead of focused gazes and pursed lips. Magnificent. Made all the more enticing with petite arms holding the oafish man down effortlessly as he struggled and gasped, unable to scream through the gurgles of blood filling the flimsy tube of his esophagus.
Rivulets of blood splattered noisily into the bowl, sloshing as it filled with uneven waves while the heart panicked and tried to continue pumping to keep the man alive. A flaw in design as all it was doing was killing him faster. There was some spillage over the edge of the bowl that Willy looked at scornfully. But he ignored it for now, upholding his promise to capture and honor the human’s death, immortalizing the event like a brand.
Eventually, he gestured to the valet to fix the fabric on the mechanic and instructed Phine to take the bowl to the kitchen. The women were free to leave shortly after, eager to get cleaned up and have a fresh, warm glass for their effort before the rest of the blood was stored away. As he made the finalizing touches, he considered where to hang the painting on his wall. During the next dinner party he hosted, it would be the new subject of conversation and contemplation. Just like his prior masterful vampiric re-creations.
“Finished already?”
Willy glanced at the door to see Lara looking unimpressed with the corpse on the mattress.
“Sister. You missed the action. Our guest truly was marvelous for his commemoration.”
Lara strode to the lounge Phine had occupied previously, observing the painting briefly before losing interest. “I’ve received an update. Your pets were taken to a WMC shelter and one of them were put down.”
Willy stiffened, the hairs on the brush suddenly pressed too firmly against the canvas, bending the expensive bristles and blemishing his recreation with an egregious stain. Not moving from his frozen pose, he asked tersely, “Which one?”
“It wasn’t Levi. Report said it was Gelgar they euthanized.”
Willy released a breath, pulling the brush from the canvas and revealing the damage done. He needed to fix that, but he didn’t trust himself to continue now.
“Good. It’d be a shame if they put down a rarity like Levi out of their ignorance. I still wouldn’t put it past them, however.”
“You continue to put him on a pedestal,” Lara sighed, exasperated as usual with his favoritism of the little hellion.
He never understood her disapproval for Levi’s special treatment. He was Willy’s prized victor after all. While it was true that he tried to coax the little thing to be more amicable, promising better treatment and lavish lifestyle as a guard wolven rather than a pit mongrel, Levi refused with bared incisors and death threats. It was equally frustrating and amusing. Nevertheless, there was little Willy could do to change the man’s mind.
Levi’s grudge had solidified into the bedrock of his core. Biting the hand that fed was a severe understatement to the animosity he held toward Willy and his fellow vampires. So, with some remorse—which was soothed over by the wealth and pride the runt of creature earned him—he left Levi to his devices in the cage. Tolerating disrespect with a cutting smile and only stoking the flames of resentment to further mock Levi. After all, what could the little creature do about it except take what was given? If he refused kindness, Willy would oblige with a heavy hand.
Secretly, Willy always suspected the vile creature was an abomination of alchemy or witchcraft. A wolven pup experimented on and made into the sterile wild thing it was today. Too unstable. Too cunning. And all too interesting.
“His abilities warrant the pedestal. There’re no other records of another wolven like him.”
“I agree, he’s got something Old in his blood, but I sometimes wonder if you forget the many attempts he's made on your life.”
“All failures, I’ll remind you, which burn hotter in his memory than mine.”
“Nevertheless, had I known you were going to lose him, I would’ve convinced you to let me investigate his origins further.”
Willy set the palette and brushes down, gesturing to Ivar to clean up his workspace while he joined Lara on the sofa. His sister’s dark hair was pulled into a neat bun and unblemished ivory breaches clung to her legs. Polished leather dressage boots halted at her crossed knees, and judging by the distinct lack of horse sweat on her, she had yet to make it to the stables.
“The answer is still no, sister. Your experiments should be left to the vermin.”
“Is that not what your pets are?”
“Some,” he conceded, draping an arm across the wooden frame of the lounge. “But never Levi. I’d like further updates on him, and in the meantime, we’ll need to issue out a task to find replacements for the three wayward humans. Colt was smart to authorize the seals. Let’s apply those in the future.”
Lara knitted her brows as she shifted in the seat to better face him. “The seals? Are you wanting them to be active for some purpose?”
“No,” Willy tilted his head back, staring at the intricate ceiling medallions. “I wish for the following acts to share the same traits and entice further doubt with GSIS. Media will only progress the questions whether those humans truly are responsible or not for the Cascade Butcher slayings.”
“You do know, that doing so could lead them back to the coven,” she reminded, a warning weighing in her tone. “Why not just manifest a second killer instead and allow them their own design?”
“It won’t hold the same effect. There needs to be links. Even if it’s a question of a copy-cat, I want the seals... Just make sure whoever carries it out this time is competent. It never should’ve been traced to Colt. But young humans can’t be entirely faulted for it. I’ll admit they had a longer run than I expected before they were caught.”
“I don’t know,” she debated. “It’s still a risk. We don’t need further scrutiny. I hear that Erwin Smith reaper isn’t one to cross. His respect for laws and customs are thin, at best, if he sets his sights on something. That’s dangerous. For us.”
Willy could feel his lips sink into a frown. The audacity of the reaper continued to sit tartly in his mind, rankling even days later. Instead of acknowledging her concerns directly, he merely glossed over it with, “The risk is worth it to sow further doubt. There’s strife taking root and it’d be a shame to not cultivate it while we can.”
Lara remained unmoving for a beat, chewing on the objectives and growing hazards to their coven. It was mild, all things considered, though living for over 1000 years did come with some hard lessons learned. One of which was how quickly a shift on the wind could alter fate. A wildfire may be contained one moment and the next, swallowing swathes of land. Just as likely as their coven being exposed for their hidden, antiquated proclivities.
Case and point, Willy watched as her gaze lingered on the nearly decapitated man slain amongst the bedding. A gory rendition honoring vampires in place of literate idols. A Neoclassical alter of sanguine blood and bold oil paints.
To think, Willy’s subtle manipulations and artistic hobby came from the policy changes celebrating and encouraging hybrids. Wolvens and Reapers apparently saw no flaw in breeding with the humans, which Willy could not even comprehend. It wasn’t common for vampires to change their partners if they happened to find one in a human, but that was different. After being subjected to a thorough process with the coven, ensuring they would be appropriate members of the clan, only then a turning could commence. It was a simple and straightforward process that ensured the coven would becoming stronger with the addition. Other species, however, were reckless with their heritage. Diluting their rich genetics and debasing their offspring to something lesser.
Progress? Adaptation? No. Those were not the same, nor was what had been taking place synonymous with either. It was a leap backwards. Shortening lives and natural abilities to share the flaws of humanity. That was not advancement.
“Alright, if that’s what you wish, I’ll see that it’s done,” Lara finally replied, pushing off the sofa. “Before I forget, there was another update about your pet.” When Willy lifted his head off the chair to give her his full attention, she continued, “GSIS apparently has custody of him. Your two favors have already put in to apply for adoption, but until GSIS is finished with him, neither can gain custody for you.”
Willy felt his composure chip away as his eyes narrowed. “Let me guess. Smith?”
Lara merely blinked at him while folding her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t tell him she told him so, but then again, she didn’t have to.
Leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, he raked a hand through his hair. “I assume he’s going to attempt to entice Levi to talk.”
“It’s a safe guess.”
“Right. Well, Levi has never been trusting, and I doubt he’ll offer much. So long as GSIS doesn’t get anything out of him, they won’t keep him long. And time is—ironically-- what they need to earn his trust.” Willy found his fingertips idly tapping a rhythm across the pad of his thumb. A rare but unintentional nervous tic. “Best get someone started on finding new lambs to take those humans’ place. The sooner we can get replicated murders; the sooner Smith’s leads will begin to look flimsy.”
“Why not look into retrieving your pet sooner? I’m sure we can forge false papers.”
“As you said, Smith's focus is not one you want aimed at you.”
“It may be too late for that.”
Willy shook his head. “Not quite. He has nothing on us. Whatever speculation he has is frail. If we voluntarily step into GSIS’ attention, he may find some other reason to exploit and further investigate.”
Lara canted her hip, appearing thoughtful. “If you’d like, I can explore another option. Just to test our odds. It’ll take time to find someone else to voluntarily start a murder spree after the news coverage of the humans being arrested has been front headlines.”
Willy considered her for a moment, before nodding. He trusted his dear sister deeply. “Sure. I’ll let you attempt what you’re plotting. In the meantime, if we need to rely on a coven member for the slaughtering, so be it. Just make sure they’re smart about it and keep Colt far from any implications...” A smile slid across his face as he turned toward the carcass. “I may even join whoever takes up the task, just to make sure they don’t make a mess of it.”
Lara followed his gaze but didn’t reply further. She simply walked out to attend to her new errands, leaving Willy alone with his corpse and paint.
***
The blankets were kicked unceremoniously through the bars after the guard tripped on them during his rounds. The book had skittered across the floor, stopping short of the bed where Levi stared at it, urging the offensive thing to disintegrate where it lay.
The charade--as Levi sardonically decided to term the blond’s uninvited doting--was annoyingly tempting. And he hated himself for it. For gazing longingly at the blankets while he shivered, knees curled to his chest, spine aching from the tightly folded posture. The threadbare blanket on the lumpy mattress was a foreign object that never would’ve been supplied in his personal cage, hence one of the primary reasons for remaining in his other form. Thick fur could combat the cement that leached his body heat much better than thin fabrics. Had it not been for the manacles on his wrists, he would’ve already solved that little problem.
The soup was risky enough to chance. But then again, these people had already proven to have other means of sedating him, and poison was highly unlikely after the trouble they went through to put him there. The blankets, while seemingly harmless, could lull him into a deep sleep, cradled in warmth and illusion of safety, leaving him vulnerable. Any rest he gained needed to be light and in short intervals.
Curling his numb toes into the bedding, Levi glowered tiredly at the book that had invaded his territory. The petty side of him imagined ripping it apart, splitting spine from bindings and reducing the hard cover into fragmented slivers, scattering shredded pages about like confetti. The book wouldn’t hold against his rage, nor did it rightfully deserve it. But when Levi wanted nothing more than to take the toxic, rotting emotions and give them an outlet, the unassuming text was the first victim in his vicinity.
So, instead, Levi waded in the stream of self-hatred, the undercurrent cold with fear, and the lapping waves his anger. The guard’s footsteps had faded up the stairs and wouldn’t return until another 15 minutes, leaving him alone to catastrophize.
He was out of the frying pan and into the fire; shuffled, hauled, drugged, and tossed from one cage to the next. While he was no longer in Tybur’s possession, his outlook was not any less bleak. At least Levi meant something to the arrogant sack of shit bloodsucker. There had been some form of investment necessary to keep Levi alive and functioning, though even that seemed too generous of description.
Contrarily, to these... officers, Levi was nothing. Just another being they’ve come across in their line of work which would turn into a fading memory days or weeks from now. He didn’t know what they wanted from him, yet he was certain he wouldn’t be able to fulfill it. Nor was he willing to admit to anything which may be considered a sin that he committed in the name of survival. When they realized he was nothing but a lonesome, distrustful, and spite-filled fighter, these people would snuff Levi out—like one culled a creature unable to perform the role for which they were bred. Levi was confident in that conclusion, and it pained him to know his only chance to avoid it was to succeed in the next escape attempt.
The book continued to sit there. Even as Levi tried to ignore it in his periphery, staring off at the wall across from the bed, it felt like the thing was watching him. Patiently waiting for attention and begging to be picked off the dingy floor. It caused Levi to grind his molars together and dig crescents into his shins.
He couldn’t just accept that the blond officer--Erwin, his memory reminded—meant no harm. Why he was so interested in Levi wasn’t clear, but after two others displayed equal interest at the shelter, Levi was increasingly unnerved. A wolven, a human, and whatever Erwin was. Each one had stopped at his cage, asking the facilitator various questions with promises of returning at another time. Only it was Erwin who managed to get him moved, and Levi had yet to learn what spurred it on.
Was it something to do with the fighting ring? Was Tybur’s dispute with Sannes involved in illegal affairs and Levi was simply taking the fall for it? Or was it something far more nefarious? Did his lack of self-control in the ring catch the wrong attention and now these people were determined to experiment on him? Lara Tybur was always found hovering around his cage, waiting for him to die so she could dissect him. Perhaps, that vampire that was with Erwin shared in Lara’s twisted fascination.
After Levi’s failed escape attempt in the parking lot (where he was determined to kill anyone willing to try to stop him—so don’t blame him for lack of commitment) he expected the officers to cut their losses. Label him as feral and be done with it. And when he was pinned under Erwin and felt the needle slip into his skin, his mind conjured conclusions that it really was the end. That after all his fighting, after decades of scratching out his existence to enact his retribution, it was all for naught. The potent contents of the injection were tucking his fury out of reach as unconsciousness grinned like the mouth of hell, swallowing him whole.
But he woke up. And he continued to stay awake and, more surprisingly, unharmed.
The muzzle was nowhere to be found, and he carried fresh bandages around his midsection and shoulder. And Erwin gave him soup.
A charade.
Indeed. It was the only thing that made sense.
Everything was a trick to drop his guard. They’d get what they wanted from him and then toss Levi aside. Either in a grave or another cage. The blankets, food, and book were only a clever ruse. He wanted to return to a time when such simplicities didn’t carry damning consequences, however he had learned of the brutalities of the world.
An absence of cruelty was the closest thing Levi knew to kindness.
These other trinkets hinted at perverse plots. Nothing was given to him for his comfort nor offered freely. And he severely doubted that his little heated display which injured Erwin would go unpunished. Levi had unintentionally tipped his hand, gave a mistakeable glimpse of his ace. If only the muzzle hadn’t been in the way, he may have escaped, leaving five empty corpses behind.
Unintentionally, Levi blinked, realizing a moment too late that he’d been staring distractedly at the book again.
Perhaps, if he indulged just a little bit—if he continued to remind himself of the manipulation—he could allow himself to read the book to pass the time. To offer a chance to mentally flee his shitty situation. So long as he stemmed any gratitude from taking hold, he could keep his autonomy. It wouldn’t be giving in to their exploitation. Right?
Before he could ponder on it further, a sudden shrill alarm carved through the building. Levi clamped his hands over his ears to muffle the sound, but it did little to block the high-pitched whirling siren. A light mounted in the corridor strobed obnoxiously, and the panicked cries and jeers from the other occupants in the cells were nearly drowned out by the strident commotion.
Beyond the discord enhanced by the solid walls, a heavy bang echoed somewhere in the upper level. Then another followed just as an unfettered voice shouted that someone was trying to get to the holding cells. It registered, belatedly, that it was the door the guard had exited through that was the source, although Levi didn’t know if that meant there was an emergency in the building or someone unauthorized was attempting to break into the cages.
Three gunshots in rapid sequence and the crashing of a battered door answered that question. The pungent scent of smoldering drywall and saltpeter had Levi launching to his feet, though he remained in the center of the room. warring with himself on whether to broach the bars and put eyes on the threat or stay back to observe from a distance. The choice was a fleeting opportunity when the tin clink-clink-clink bounced down the stairs followed by a sharp hiss.
“Smoke! Smoke!” someone yelled in alarm.
Coughing ensued along with curses and cries to be let out. A blind panic for losing visuals as well as some internal fear that the fog could be poisonous.
From where Levi stood near the bed, a creeping billow of smoke furled and twisted across the corridor, inching from one end of his bars to the next. It blocked the flashing light, causing the strobes to mimic lightning flashes in the clouds, darkening his cell ominously. And then the scent hit him.
Like a sting to his nose, the unwelcomed odor stimulated his limbic system, causing his shoulders to lock and grow impossibly tense as the urge to bristle intensified. In that moment, he feared nothing. Eyes locked on the wafting fog that distorted the encroaching enemy, his power writhing beneath the surface, urging every cell to shift yet held back by the iron around his wrists. Vibrating from within his chest cavity, he let out a low warning growl just as two black shapes appeared alongside the bars.
“Fucking finally,” a woman griped upon putting eyes on him. She nudged her companion who wore equally dark, non-descript clothing that covered their lower face beneath their hoods. “Shoot him so we can get out of here.”
The man wracked the bolt back of a clunky rifle and lifted the barrel directly at Levi’s chest. Levi didn’t wait. He lurched to the side, rolling across the concrete pad until he was blocked by the sink. A round went off, narrowly missing the exact spot where his shoulder hit the ground.
“Fuck!” the man cursed, wracked another round.
“We don’t have extras to waste! Hurry before those damn guards show up!”
“I got it! Just watch my back.”
Levi heard the scuff of the man’s boots, likely looking to exploit a new angle around the sink from outside the bars. He tried to push against the solid wall and make himself smaller, knowing any offensive maneuver against the vampires was useless unless they were in the cell with him. Right then, they held all the advantage.
Glancing at the cuffs on his wrists, he contemplated breaking his thumbs to slip his hands free so he could shift. It’d be so easy. Painful, certainly, and the shift would be agonizing, but he’d be free of the hinderance.
Peeking below the stainless bowl column, he grimaced and moved back at the sight of the barrel already on him. It was enough to force himself back from the brink of injuring himself. With the bars protecting the vampires, it’d be a waste of effort on his part. He’d only succeed in making himself a larger target and getting shot. It burned to have to swallow his hungry fire within, the defiance he held against the world forever set against him.
Another gunshot erupted just as Levi felt a tug of his calf followed by an abrupt sting. Taken aback by the unexpected assault, he sucked his legs closer inwards to avoid another injury and inspect the damage. It was a graze, narrow but deep as rivulets of blood trickled down to his ankle.
“I might’ve got him.”
“Might have or you did?” she demanded.
Another slam of the steel bolt, chambering third round. “I’ma make sure.”
A shiny object near his feet drew Levi’s attention, realizing it was the shattered projectile that had hit him. The needle and clear housing had broken upon impact against the wall and a clear fluid oozed across the floor.
So, they weren’t trying to kill Levi, only sedate him.
That was worse than he thought. If they were trying to tranquilize him, that meant they wanted to move him. And vampires breaking into... wherever the fuck he currently was, meant it had to be under the orders of Tybur.
That cocky bastard, Levi seethed, toying with the idea of faking unconsciousness to lure the two inside. He’d kill them both. In a mire of gristle and gore with hopes word would get back to Tybur. Another chance to say Fuck You was never an opportunity to let waste.
Unfortunately, the decision was ripped from his hands as the sound of boots approaching from the hall drew the vampires’ attention from the cell.
“Stop right there and put your guns down!” an unfamiliar female voice ordered.
Risking a glance from his cover, Levi could see the two vampires aiming down the length of the hallway, but the newcomers were too far out of sight. The male vampire dropped the rifle, letting the sling pull taunt before it hit the ground as his hand simultaneously ripped out a pistol. He fired off three rounds, even as answering shots were returned. The chaos erupted in the enclosed space, screams and the alarm still resonating amongst the layered cacophony. Levi continued to watch, as the vampires backpedaled, cornered and not gaining the advantage of whoever was at the opposite end.
Three shadowy figures charged forward, giving the vampires no chance to escape. The man shot one of the figures in the chest where he dropped face first on the floor. The other two never stopped with the shorter person thrusting a long-curved blade out and catching the male’s torso. A burst of light flashed in the corridor, electrifying the entirety of Levi’s cell in a blazing whiteness a split second before the vampire’s body crumpled.
The female vampire let out a screeching cry, firing every round at her attackers in rage for her murdered companion. But the bullets that made their mark did not slow down the man in an ominous cloak, melting through the dissipating smoke bomb as he swung his scythe next, clipping the gun from her hand and using the staff to trip up her legs. The vampire went sprawling into the wall, skull connecting in a sick crack before her body crumpled onto the floor.
“Goddamnit,” the cloaked man cursed, leaning over the female vampire to feel for a pulse. “So much for apprehending them.”
“Guess you scared her to death,” the woman teased, standing over the first intruder. “Should’ve just gleaned her. Would’ve been more satisfying.”
“If only,” the man mumbled. A groan from behind them turned their attention to their third companion who propped himself into a seated position.
“He fucking--shot me,” he complained, slumping and wheezing at what sounded like a collapsed lung.
“With normal bullets,” the woman amended.
“Doesn’t matter... It still... sucks.”
As Levi watched the interaction, able to see more of the newcomers now that the smoke was settling, he realized just what he’d witnessed.
Reapers.
He never seen them in person, and if he had, then he was none the wiser. They looked human, despite the cloaks appearing far from normal fabric. The man that was dressed entirely in the ensemble wore a dark green material that almost appeared black with the absent of light on it, and the imposing scythe were larger in person than he imagined.
There were always stories of Reapers gleaning souls and sending them off to the Netherworld, but he never imagined he’d have the opportunity to witness it. The bright light repeated in his mind, playing tricks on his eyes as he recalled the splotches that crowded his vision. The flash was equivalent to an atomic bomb going off without the explosion or destruction. They simply gleaned the male vampire’s soul, cleaved it from the body and out of this realm.
Holy shit.
What did that mean for him?
“They appeared to be after this one,” the female reaper’s voice brought him back.
Blinking, he saw her staring inside the cage at him, her rusty short locks styled in an edgy fashion. She looked young, but he had no knowledge of gauging a reaper’s age.
“Are you alright?” she asked him with an amount of genuine sincerity that caused him to feel further unbalanced.
Levi didn’t answer, but he did stand up, taking slow steps out from his cover as his eyes darted from one prone body to the other. He maintained the distance from the bars, even as the Reapers watched him, making their own observations silently in return.
“My name’s Nifa,” she introduced, punctuating it with a smile when his gaze returned to hers. “You wouldn’t happen to be the wolven that Erwin Smith brought in, would you?”
Brought in wasn’t a phrase Levi could answer on. All he knew was he was in the parking lot, fighting for his life in one moment, and tossed into a new cage the next. Both times, however, Erwin had been present.
Still in shock from witnessing his first gleaning more so than the fleeting one-sided gunfight, Levi found himself offering a single nod.
Apparently, it was the right decision as the friendly reaper offered an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. It won’t happen again while you’re here.”
It was a pretty promise from the woman with the benevolent grin. But her cheeriness and copper locks stirred all the worst memories, painfully reiterating what Levi had learned long ago:
That pretty things never lasted, always the first to wilt in the harsh, bitter world.
Notes:
We’re almost done transitioning from world-building/case focus to more Levi and Erwin development. Which will continue in typical slow burn fashion, of course, but hey! Who doesn’t like sugar, spice, and torture😆 It will be similar to the Arcs in Bloodroot, with the first being about how their lives come together. Arc 2 starts in Chapter 11.
Just a reminder, Levi will be showing some instability and mental health issues from the trauma he endured, and it will get progressively more detailed. We're easing into it, however I felt it was important to mention as he won’t have much dialogue right away, but it’ll come! Promise!
Anyway, thank you for all your continued support and checking this story out. I know its plot heavy and different but hopefully in a good way. Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 8: Insured Risks
Notes:
Last slowish/Erwin-centered chapter. Some questions will be answered...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The phone call came just as Erwin was pulling into the long driveway of his house. A percolation of dread struck him by surprise, causing him to stomp on the brake pedal as the tires locked and carved into the gravel road.
GSIS had been breached. A pair of armed vampires were after Levi.
In a bittersweet outcome, he learned that the vampires had not used specialty rounds when shooting at fellow agents, yet it was unfortunate that they perished in the process. Had they used fragments or reforged steel from a stolen scythe, it’d be a different outcome for poor Oluo. The injuries he sustained were still severe enough to have the following two weeks off to heal and another two weeks filled with light duty. Enough damage to a reaper’s body and it wouldn’t matter what weapon or ammunition was used. They could still succumb to death if their vessels were beyond repair. Even losing a limb equated to a permanent disability.
Upon returning to GSIS directly after the call, Shadis dismissed Erwin; asserting that if he was an active agent, he’d be put to work. But as a consultant, there was nothing he could do while they investigated the break-in. The offhanded rejection was followed by under breath mutterings of 'shift complacency' and 'we've never had someone foolishly try to break in before'. Each bitter comment was another thorn that the older reaper knew would lead to overdrawn briefings and dreary explanations for the next two weeks. Despite Shadis' dismissal, Erwin stubbornly refused to leave the building, slipping quietly to join Nifa in the security footage room as she briefed him on the events--for old time’s sake.
While she explained the attack, Erwin’s attention continued to watch the live feed of Levi pacing his cell while a team mopped up the blood in the corridor. Levi didn’t appear agitated, per se, but he did watch the sanitation crew like a hawk. Either entertained by the processes after body removal or simply supervising them to ensure it was cleaned properly. Had it been under different circumstances, Erwin might have found it amusing.
Nanaba appeared in the dim room, lit by the blue glow of the monitors. Meanwhile, Nifa took it upon herself to repeat the story once more, leaving Erwin to his observation in peace.
Levi’s restlessness and apprehensive movements were understandable, while also disappointing. Erwin had hoped to keep Levi in a calm headspace, as he’d been in with his semi-sedated state, before he spoke with him next. Any attempt to question a keyed-up witness, already prone to violence as a defensive measure, was moot. Even the thought of going down there and trying to assuage Levi’s agitation now would likely only backfire.
Erwin needed to pick his interactions carefully, know which battle was worth challenging to gain the upper hand and which to retreat from. Currently, the odds of reassuring Levi were parallelled to a poor rate of success. Right along with having a productive discussion without subconsciously being associated with the stress from the attempted abduction. It was beyond frustrating that the mere hours before of relative peace between them were so ephemeral. The presence of a hummingbird, there one moment and gone the next.
“And you know for sure it was a sedative? Not an attempt on his life?” Nanaba asked.
“Yeah,” Nifa answered. “Armin is on the evening shift in the lab and was able to confirm it. You know how meticulous he is with these sorts of things.”
“Alright, fair point,” Nanaba sighed, then looked at Erwin. “Shadis is already running identification and background checks on the intruders, but so far, it looks like they were solitaries. No coven or clan associations.”
“So, hired specialists,” Erwin concluded bitterly. Had Levi not taken cover behind the sink when he did, the intruders may very well have succeeded.
“Seems like it,” Nanaba confirmed with grim resignation. “And tracing back to whoever they were in contact with will be near impossible. Burner phones or even in person meetings. If they were able to break into GSIS and make it to the holding cells, then they weren’t amateurs.”
Nor would they be inexpensive to hire. The likelihood of effectively invading GSIS was undeniably slim, but to carry it out implied honed skill and research. The kind that needed time and not spontaneous action. Therefore, it begged the question of whether it was knowledge they had before being hired, or if there was a source with the schematics that they used. Even someone with internal GSIS intel couldn’t be ruled out.
Erwin didn’t have time nor the luxury to focus on possible double-agents, however. Shadis wouldn’t allow him to assist with finding the answers on the two trespassers, and frankly, Erwin had more important people to worry about. Primarily, Willy Tybur and Levi. Then again, if his suspicions were correct and it was Tybur who hired the intruders, then it’d provide an opening to further investigate. On the downside, it didn’t do anything in way of establishing Tybur’s involvement in the moniker Cascade Butcher case.
A tragic case of catch-22.
But Erwin knew better than to jump to conclusions. While Tybur was increasingly becoming his main suspect, he’d be doing a disservice to not consider other possibilities. Such as the two unknown people who recently shown an interest in adopting Levi at the shelter.
“What options are there to overrule a WMC nondisclosure agreement of customers? Preferably short of a warrant?” Erwin asked, interrupting the fellow reapers' discussion.
Nanaba’s expression became pinched as she pondered the inquiry. “As far as I’m aware, that’d be the only way. A court order from a judge. Why?”
“The shelter Levi was at had two people who were allowed special access to the Intake Department. The same day he was transferred after the fight.” He waited, letting the information settle between them before continuing. “It’s a stretch to assume a judge would sign off on the request with such flimsy speculation, but it’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.”
“I agree, it’s worth looking into,” Nanaba confirmed. “The problem is, there’s a chance it could be denied, as you said.”
“Or if could be approved, but result in more people in GSIS or SRC becoming interested in Levi. I’d like to avoid that at all costs.”
Nanaba’s brows dipped further. “Why? Because of what happened in the parking lot?”
“Primarily,” he said clipped, not interested in too much information spreading about his hand. Nifa always proved to be a trustworthy co-worker, but he didn’t know her well enough to not join in on office rumors.
“Aside from talking to a judge, I wouldn’t know any other way,” Nanaba shrugged with an apologetic grimace.
No. He supposed it was a tad optimistic to think he was missing a loophole.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t create his own. So long as he wasn't caught, it wouldn't turn into his own noose.
When he retreated to his ponderings, Nanaba followed up with, “Do you want me to look into it? I can talk to Shadis and see what we can do to keep the request in-house as much as possible. Maybe weave a different story for the purpose.”
Erwin dragged his attention to the monitor where Levi had retreated from the bars, finally having settled on his bed. The man continued to watch the now empty corridor, tucked into a hunched ball with knees drawn in and same alert stiffness. Always vigilant.
“No. I may have a plan.”
***
The skein of clouds hung low, blocking the charcoal sky and stars. The belly of the brumes had a faint glow that reflected from the city’s light pollution, misting the streets in a constant drizzle.
Erwin watched the apartment's bedroom light turn on from his vehicle, the shadow inside sifting across the thin curtains in the predawn, sleepy and unawares. Not many had awoken yet for their day, which was ideal to limit witnesses. Even with a Reaper’s ability to fade into the background and pull a metaphorical veil over their presence, it wasn’t perfectly effective. A hyperaware individual could still take notice, though not an overly common occurrence. Especially at that ungodly hour.
Regardless, it was best not to have spectators for what he was about to do.
Erwin lingered in the driver's seat, going over any alternatives before he committed to his rather impulsive decision. Coming up short, he turned his reflections into imagining his kind-of-plan going kind-of-wrong, and biting him in the ass. If word got out, SRC would look to make an example of him and Shadis would gloat relentlessly about how he was right all along; that Erwin viewed rules with contempt and found ways around them to benefit his own objectives.
While not wrong, it certainly would have some repercussions on his reputation, but why have a squeaking clean record when one lived so long. A few blemishes made the story all the more interesting. How’s that for optimism?
Still... while what he was about to do was not necessarily ‘breaking the law’, it wasn’t entirely common or appropriate for a Reaper to carry out. Despite some having a vindictive and cruel streak, majority of his kind were not ruled by their emotions. As a whole, Reapers were logical creatures that viewed their gleanings as a bear viewed taking down a young elk. It wasn’t personal or subjective, just a way of life.
Death was death.
So really, what he was about to do, while unusual, was only frowned upon. Manipulating and abusing his power—lying--to benefit himself. But doubts be damned, somethings just needed a different approach. Thus, it was no surprise when he opened the door and stepped into the gentle rain. He’d already broken inertia. If he was going to find out what made Levi so important, he wasn’t going to settle on half-truths. He wanted it all.
Erwin made his way to the appropriate door, appreciating the overall lavish building that was by no means what the average person would consider affordable. Apparently, a WMC Shelter Department Lead earned a hefty salary. Another demonstration of the utter imbalance in the system when said job had responsibilities equivalent to peddling lives of the poor and unregistered. Borderline trafficking disguised as rehabilitation, PETA-W would say.
As he reached the man’s door, Erwin tested the knob to find his suspicions were correct. Despite the upscale neighborhood and being home, Hugh Conley knew better than to leave his door unlocked. No matter.
With a cursory glance around to ensure no one was there to witness him, Erwin let his soul fizzle within, the artic trickle of water permeating through his veins. The shadows appeared from thin air itself like ichor tendrils, gradually forming from nothing until they were curling around Erwin. The vibration of air. The sharp tug of his power, and suddenly his appearance was no longer the pristine three-piece suit, but an imposing figure beneath a balletic cloak.
His cherished scythe in one hand, he lifted the other, pushing a subtle amount of invisible energy into the chrome knob to manipulate the lock. With care, it clicked slowly over, allowing him access to the pitifully fortified dwelling, while the occupant remained none the wiser.
Refusing to hesitate, Erwin let himself through, ignoring the way his power surged and twisted within pleading to be released, begging to consume the soul lingering nearby. It was an explosive sensation whenever he opened the floodgates to his power. Given time, he would acclimate to the force of it, particularly the longer he accessed his cloak and scythe. The eagerness to loosen his grasp on the tide was always a temptation during gleanings, but Erwin refrained, knowing that it would only spell disaster. Reapers didn’t lose control. They were the demise of one life and a guide to the next, not destroyers of worlds. At least, not to the extent fables would imply.
The living room was modestly furnished. And empty. Toward the opened door on the left, Erwin could hear a sink running as Hugh finished up in the bathroom. It was only a moment longer before he turned it off and entered the main space, attention pointed downwards as he buttoned his shirt.
Erwin remained unmoved, not bothering to hide his presence. Almost immediately, a tautness pulled through Hugh as he lifted his head to see the unwelcomed presence loitering near his sectional. It sent him scrambling backwards into a side table, knocking over an undistinguishable table décor that served no purpose but to confuse the viewer.
“Oh, no. No-no-no-no-no,” Hugh murmured, growing louder the more he repeated it.
His gaze tracked over Erwin, taking in the scythe and indigo cloak. Erwin allowed a second for the man to observe his appearance, letting the gravity of the situation settle. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit anxious himself as Erwin had absolutely no right to be there. It was hypocritical of him to break the rules as he saw fit while complaining about others over the same transgression. Then again, his actions were more of a bluff than anything. It wasn’t like he was killing people out of sinful motivation, like greed.
Hugh’s gaze traveled up the dark cloak, digesting the way the blue and black melted together with each shift, appearing deeper in sheen as the material fluttered. Erwin prided himself on how it resembled the night sky. If one looked long enough, they would anticipate it coming alight with the constellations. Internalized preening aside, the natural shadow from the cowl was the only thing that mattered with Erwin’s appearance, going completely unrecognized by the gawking man. No chance to identify him.
“Good evening, Mr. Conley,” he spoke with his projected greeting echoing off the closed space. The power coiled around his vocal cords effortlessly, distorting his natural modulation. “Judging by your reaction, you’re aware of why I’ve come. My intentions are to make your journey swift and easy, so please take a breath and don’t fear.”
“No-no-please, wait. This is a mistake. I still had plans! Important plans! I never did anything wrong!” the man beseeched; voice wet as his knees quivered, causing him to sink lower. “I never did anything wrong! Never!”
Unimpressed with the display, Erwin tilted his head in consideration, the motion muted by the swallowing hood. “It seems you’re mistaken. We do not collect souls based on merit or past trasgressions. I’m afraid to inform you that it’s simply a matter of keeping balance. I hope you can find some comfort in that.”
“Please! Please! It can’t be my time! Not yet! I’ll--I’ll give you anything—anything! I know you’re issued a few gleanings at a time to choose from, so please! Choose someone else!” Hugh’s knees slammed onto the floor, tears threatening to spill behind skewed glasses. “I’ll give you anything to pick another of your options, sir!”
Just as Erwin predicted, the man crumbled. The scene was all too familiar to him, a common reaction to the unlucky souls drawn from SRC. As usual, there was a last-ditch effort to barter their lives as if in a market and trying to convince someone to purchase a fake antique. Full of desperation behind the assuring face that what was being traded was of equal or greater value. As if a soul was an inexpensive trinket rather than the most cherished form of existence imaginable.
In that instance, Erwin found the logic validated. He was much more interested in the knowledge he could collect rather than the soul.
“And what would you trade me, Mr. Conley?” he asked, though only half genuine. “What is your soul worth? You act like I have something to gain by going against my nature and SRC’s assignment.”
“Anything! Money? Connections? I can-I can... make whatever happen that you want, I’m sure—just give me time. What is it you want?”
“Your soul, of course.” The man flinched violently, before Erwin continued, “Are you genuinely suggesting a trade? Will you be able to live with yourself knowing that you bartered a few more years of your life in exchange for another’s that was set to live?”
Hugh faltered, tripping over his tongue as he gaped for an answer. Eventually, he managed to calm down enough to proposition his response. “I would always feel guilty for it, but people die all the time that I never knew. I can’t mourn for everyone. But what I do is important! I save lives! I help wayward wolvens recover and find homes! I do good in this world!”
Erwin clenched his jaw before he could delve into a philosophical debate with the man. Had he been here to truly glean Hugh’s soul on SRC orders, he’d take the time in his final moments to have a deep conversation. He rather enjoyed learning of the human condition and what made the emotional-driven creatures steer their decisions. But now wasn’t the opportunity for discussion. Though it was fortunate that Hugh gave him the intro he needed to broach the subject he was after.
“You proposed a trade,” he said after a beat. “I seek knowledge. Is that something you will offer willingly in exchange for your soul?”
“Yes!” he said all too quickly. “Whatever you’d like—please.”
“A wolven fighting ring was dismantled a few nights ago. The news said that there were many combatants taken to shelters. What would you know of this?”
Hugh appeared momentarily taken aback by the niche request, but was desperate enough to not question it. “It was an illegal ring. They never registered the event with the city, and many died as a result. You know how it is. Bloodsport has always been popular... But, uh... I had four wolvens from there transfer to my shelter.”
“Four? And what can you tell me about them?”
“Two have clean records and are scheduled to start rehabilitation soon. Another had a criminal history, so was put down, and the fourth is currently in GSIS for a case or something. I’m honestly just hoping he’ll be returned soon.”
Erwin felt his gaze narrow unexpectedly, a reaction that he couldn’t name the source of. The thought of Hugh being eager for Levi to come back bothered him for some reason. “Why?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said the fourth wolven is one you’re wanting returned to your shelter. Why is that?”
Hugh blinked, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek to mop up the stray tears. He swallowed and realigned his glasses. “W-we had some... high-priority clients interested in adopting him.”
“And who would those be?”
The man froze, eyes lifting to gaze at the emptiness of the cowl, as if testing if he stared long enough, he could identify who the imposing reaper was.
“I-I’m not a-allowed to say, sir,” he replied meekly. “It’s policy to protect clients' confidentiality.”
“Ah. Well, that’s a shame.” Erwin moved his scythe in front of him, mindful of the antler not catching on the eyesore of a lamp.
“W-wait! I’m answering your questions—”
“If you thought I’d be satisfied with knowledge that anyone else could freely share with me, then you must not be as attached to your soul as I thought. A cheap thing to trade in exchange for public information. I’m not sure why I even entertained the offer in the first place.”
Hugh, having slowly recovered his composure and posture, dropped back to his knees and melted again. “N-n-no, sir! I’ll tell you. I’m sorry—it was just a natural reaction to others asking about it! The first client interested in the wolven is Reid Stuart.”
“And who is that?” Erwin prodded, unfamiliar with the name. “What made him interested in that wolven in particular?”
“He has a family, and said he liked 3828 because of his size. He told me he found him endearing and wanted him as a house pet.”
Erwin recognized the way Hugh sidestepped the first question, but didn’t comment on it right away. Instead, he was preoccupied by the admission Reid labeled Levi with. Endearing. That certainly wasn’t believable, for three obvious reasons.
Firstly, there were pups in the front of the shelter primed for adoption. Reid Stuart could simply look at the chart to see the dam and sire’s information, and extrapolate the estimated height of the kid when fully grown. Not all were giants like Mike. The second was the fact Reid had enough pull to convince the shelter handler to let them pass into the back and see the potential candidates of future adoptions. A feature not granted to the public, so that meant the man was important somehow. And thirdly, ... No sane mortal would look at Levi with the steel muzzle in place and call him endearing. Worthy of morbid interest, sure. Erwin admittedly shared that opinion, but endearing as a family pet?
The guy was a clown to use such a controversial term.
Back to the point, however, Erwin wasn’t going to let Hugh slide from answering all his questions. “Who is Reid? Is he a vampire?”
“No. Human. He’s uh... well, he’s employed with WMC, if you can believe it. Flashed his identification and said he wanted to see what we had available, but when he showed no interest in the adoptable individuals, we took him back to the intakes. Mr. Stuart was very interested in 3828 almost immediately. Honestly, him being a member of WMC offers many resources to reform the wolven however he saw fit.” Hugh hesitated in his explanation before unknowingly adding insult to injury for Erwin, “Mr. Stuart is probably the best suited person to adopt 3828 and it’d be a shame to let the opportunity go to waste.”
Erwin felt his mood sour like curdled milk. He hadn’t expected to feel offended by the comment, as if he wasn’t fit to help Levi, but he pushed it aside for later musings.
“How did the wolven react to both of the interested parties when they stopped at his cage?”
A flash of indignation appeared as Hugh looked like he was about to protest that it wasn’t a ‘cage’, but he withheld his opinion. A dangerous notion for someone to believe so deeply that what they did was principled, blinding them to the damage they created beneath the pretty imagery of rehoming. Erwin wondered transiently how many lives this infantile human had stuffed out with a needle in his years.
“3828 growled but stayed at the back of his room. Kept eye-contact, which is more of a sign of aggression than the growling, but he didn’t try to attack or anything. It’s a normal reaction to new situations when they haven’t been properly socialized.”
“Did it seem like he recognized the two parties?”
Hugh shook his head. “He didn’t act any differently than the others. The only time he did was when a vampire from GSIS was present.”
“Who was the second person interested in him?”
Hugh huffed out a disbelieving sound that could’ve been an aborted laugh. “Zeke Yeager. If you can wrap your head around that—er... in a rhetorical way. I didn’t mean to imply... Um...”
Erwin tilted his head, waiting for him to continue with a level of patience he didn't actually harbor.
“Sorry... What I was saying was, Mr. Yeager is a decedent of a royal lineage amongst his wolven kind. His heritage is ancient, and I believe he’s recently taken the head of the Fritz Pack in Vancouver. That’s been their territory for so long, but it seems he’s expanding into Washington recently.”
Erwin remained silent, chewing over the new information. Wolvens from prestigious packs were just as powerful as vampire covens with similar hierarchy. While other locations were brimming with smaller packs or secluded wolven members, the esteemed groups usually carried large swaths of territories that they’ve occupied for centuries. For someone to expand, not only acreage, but across international borders, it certainly was no small feat.
Just add something else to the growing list to investigate, Erwin scowled.
“And he came to the shelter looking for what exactly?” he asked, finding it entirely suspicious for a pack leader to go to a shelter of all things. Unless he was looking to build a small army, Zeke would have no reason to look at adopting. And Erwin severely doubted he’d be going to shelters to free the wolvens under the guise of taking them in—though that would certainly increase the chances of gaining loyal followers.
“I’m not sure. I’ve heard some packs will take companions from shelters. But I’m not entirely certain on the particulars with wolven packs, only those that are in the federal system.”
Erwin adjusted the scythe in his hands, feeling far from satisfied. All that risk only for it to create more questions. Neither Zeke nor Reid were vampires as expected, which then gave him pause in wondering if they were even linked to Tybur’s Coven or the break-in to GSIS. There was still a possibility of either one being relevant to the investigation, but that would require further research that would take time. Something he was growing increasingly short on.
***
Sometimes, no matter how much foresight or how fast you try to stay ahead of the worst-case scenarios, you still fall into your circumstances. As if Fate had left a tripwire in your path to cause a ruinous stumble on the homestretch.
Well, that trap had sprung, and the grievous repercussions were interrupting Erwin by midmorning.
After a brief series of background checks for Reid and Zeke, the results were predictably depressing. No proof of connection to the Tybur Coven for either person, or any indication of mysterious financial transactions to the deceased vampires pair downstairs. That squashed the possibility of both potential adopters being responsible for organizing the attempted abduction, and while Erwin could’ve spent more time researching them, more important matters were vying for his attention.
“We’re moving forward with charging the three humans for the murders.”
Shadis made the statement while looking everywhere but at Erwin, missing the open scowl aimed specifically at the Director. To be fair, there were a lot of other places to look. The room was full of nearly everyone that had a role in the Cascade Butcher investigation to include two new individuals standing behind the Division Director in mutual support.
The first Erwin recognized was Chief Dot Pixis from the local police department with his perpetually squinted gaze and bald dome. Some speculated the loss of hair was a result of the many failed marriages, but Erwin suspected it’s what kept the man so lively. He always did like his sweet, nurturing women and booze. The second man was not someone Erwin had seen before, however the constricted suit with the over-embellished pocket square was enough to categorize him from the Supra Regulatory Commission.
Of course, Shadis would bend like a wet noodle if the Registry were getting involved. How utterly predictable.
“But, sir,” Nanaba breeched cautiously, “we were still in the process of investigating anyone else that may have been involved.”
“And have you found anything substantial?”
Nanaba’s annoyance slipped for the barest second before she masked it. “Well, it’s still early to know for certain. We’re confirming sources, currently, and if—”
“The crime scene at the gas station and the murder weapon corroborated the confessions. Upon further analysis with the skull, Sasha confirmed it was Mr. Julian Walsh and linked it to the five victims. There is no doubt who committed the crimes; thus, we’re moving forward. No more wasting time on it. We have a press conference in an hour to announce the results.”
So, that’s what it was about. That’s what caused Shadis to redact his statement to let them investigate further. Willy Tybur’s stunt with the lawyer and press on the lawn caused public flak and now SRC was wanting to quiet it down. Keep the peace and pass the blame. Close the case with a pretty stamp and move on.
“We’re still waiting results with Levi downstairs,” Erwin interjected much calmer than he felt, “Hange is in the process of build a case based on the illegal ring and any inside confirmations regarding the connection between the two crimes. What are you expecting done with that?”
Shadis glanced somewhere over Erwin’s head while waving a dismissive hand. When he met Erwin’s gaze, it was in passing. “We have plenty of information already on that. It’s been established the witness was used in a simple proxy fight and nothing more. Therefore, the wolven will be sent back to the shelter and become WMC’s liability again.”
Erwin felt his entire body stiffen further. Whoever hired the vampires to abduct Levi could easily find replacements and repeat the process in the shelter. And it would be a Hell of a lot easier the second time. Not only that, but they couldn’t yet rule out it wasn’t in some way connected to Tybur. Proxy fight or not, hiring someone to break into a federal building to steal a witness was a pretty big fucking offense.
“The Butcher case aside, Levi would still have information that we can use for--”
Shadis slammed his hand onto the table, “Damnit Smith! You will respect my position. Enough with the godforsaken wolven. We’re closing the case and that’s it!”
Shortly after the outburst, Shadis left the room with the unnamed SRC representative. Pixis lingered behind to give everyone warm wishes and to tell Erwin how good it was to see him, though it was difficult for Erwin to return the authenticity in his response. After he promised to be in touch soon, the Police Chief followed the others, likely to prepare for the abhorrent press conference.
Meanwhile, the remaining members of the team shifted nervously around Erwin, as if sensing the pin of a grenade had been pulled and waiting for the explosion to send shrapnel flying. But he merely sat there, fingers folded together on the table, lost in thought and staring ahead at the wall.
Then, after nearly 20 seconds of silence and not looking away from the invisible spot below the temperature gauge, he asked the room, “What are the options to avoid Levi being sent to the shelter?”
Nanaba and Mike shared a collective sigh while Jean and Eren awkwardly excused themselves.
“Adoption,” Mike replied. “You play by the rules and adopt him.”
Erwin’s face hardened, lips thinning in a tight line. The following words left the taste of ash on his tongue. “You expect me to own a soul as a pet?”
It was a sort of taboo amongst reapers to have that power over another being. A double standard in a way because of the fact it wasn’t just the body they would hold influence over but the soul as well. Many shied away from the process mostly out of superstition that it’d taint their own soul in return. Even portions of the public looked down on reapers with bonded individuals tied to them so intricately, believing it was closer to slavers than whatever other species kept a wolven in their household. As if humans, vampires, and wolvens with residency who bought another individual for companionship were of higher morals.
The hypocrisy was astounding. And Erwin suspected religion had a large part to play in that mindset.
“We're not expecting you to do anything. Besides, it’s just a formality,” Nanaba explained, “Most reapers that have adopted wolvens don’t all agree with the ownership requirements. There’s some that do and fall into the ‘abuse your power’ label, but the majority only do it because of the rules. If you want my opinion, it’s the lesser of the evils. It’s in a Reaper’s nature to respect the autonomy of individuals and they rarely disregard another life, unlike a lot of other people that gain custody.”
“That’s not to say we agree you should pursue Levi,” Mike followed up. “We don’t know anything about him yet. He’s a huge liability to be making a decision like adopting.”
“So,” Erwin finally turned away from the wall to face them, “you’re suggesting I should ignore it? Let him be taken back and just move on?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t honestly. I mean, he’s definitely an interesting guy, but is finding the answers really worth a lifetime commitment? Come on, Erwin. You’re supposed to be the level-headed one here, and I'm meant to be the one making brash calls.”
Erwin very nearly submitted to Mike’s argument right then. Almost agreed he was right and dropped the impulsive notion of finding a way to keep Levi around. But the thought of letting Levi slip through his fingers, for whatever unfathomable reason that continued to elude him, caused an electric jolt of unease to shoot through his chest.
Sighing, he pushed from the chair and left with a simple, “I need to think on it” before walking from the room.
Inevitably, his method of taking a stroll to give him time to ponder the situation led him to ordering lunch--for two--and returning to the basement. As if putting eyes on the prickly wolven, scowling and unfriendly, may fortify his weak resolve to move on from the failed lead. To realize it was more trouble than it was worth and allow all the problems of the case to come to a neat close, like Mike suggested.
As he walked down the corridor, he took note that there were new people locked in the holding cells, some in groups as they jeered crude jokes amongst each other to pass the time. It was rowdier than normal, but GSIS had been busy, and the extra bodies in the cells were proof.
When he reached the edge of Levi’s cell, he anticipated seeing the man agitated and pacing, but was quietly stunned to find him simply lounging on the bed--nose deep in the book Erwin spontaneously left him. It was the first time he'd witnessed Levi somewhat relaxed and not stricken with hypervigilance, losing himself in the story between sprawls of ink.
Not daring to move past the wall that helped shield him from view, Erwin continued to hover by the bars and drink in the rare moment. The image was so unexpected that it struck him as odd that Levi could appear almost comfortable in the near unhospitable cage. He hadn’t noticed Erwin peeping around the corner yet, entirely engrossed in the book while tuning out the din from other prisoners. They were obnoxious even to Erwin, and he had half a mind to yell at them to quiet down, but feared he’d fragment the rare moment.
Unfortunately, as he came to find out, that wasn’t something in his control. When Levi turned the page, he must’ve noticed Erwin spying in the border of his vision because the book snapped shut like a shotgun blast and it seemed even louder than the noise around them. The honing glare didn’t need much translation to the indignant ire of being spied on. He obviously didn’t appreciate Erwin’s sneaky attention.
So much for that.
Erwin withheld a disappointed sigh as he approached the opening of the cell, no longer lurking at the corner like some creep. He lifted the bag of food as a peace offer and let his lips curl upwards, masking any embarrassment he knew he should’ve been feeling.
“Sorry to disturb you, Levi. I thought you might be hungry but didn’t want to interrupt your reading.“
Levi’s gaze drifted to the bag, and Erwin could see his chest expand with a breath, smelling the food. Interested. But unmoving.
Without further prompting, Erwin set the food right between the bars. Not on the outside nor inside of the cell. Middle ground. He briefly noticed that the set of blankets he lent Levi were just within the bars, but remained partially folded, going unused. Not speaking on it, Erwin pulled up his chair, so he was in the center of the walkway. Again, not too close to the cage but not the furthest either. If Erwin was going to decide what he would do moving forward, he wanted to test Levi’s boundaries. See if there was even a chance for something to work between them before he threw in the towel and let the policies dictate his decisions for him.
On the bed, Levi dragged his eyes from the bag to look at Erwin, before the glare folded itself into a new shape of unamused. He saw Erwin’s game for what it was, and he stayed perched on the cot.
That was a shame. Erwin was hoping he could entice Levi to play. He couldn’t help wanting to know what the man was capable of and if there was some kind of compatibility to their little tournament of wills.
Choosing subtleness rather than direct challenge, Erwin picked up the container of his teriyaki bowl and helped himself, paying little mind to Levi. Instead, he voluntarily filled the quiet between bites with a story from the restaurant the meal was from, recollecting how it being open until 2 a.m. was best for late night drinking with Nanaba, Mike, and Hange. After a case was closed, they used to celebrate and go there for some delicious food to soak up the alcohol and speed up the process to sobriety. The story was followed by informing Levi that he wished Reapers had better immunity to inebriation as he had spent many nights alternating between carrying Nanaba or Mike home when they couldn’t walk.
Throughout the one-sided discussion, Levi listened, and his posture even lost some of its stiffness. Erwin was nearly finished with his meal, some rice and morsels of meat and broccoli remaining, when he chose to openly address the wolven.
“Your food is getting cold. If you aren’t interested, I can save it for later, if you’d like.”
Erwin expected the man to continue with the willfully staring, but the prospect of missing out must’ve been enough to tempt him out of his comfort zone. That or he realized that he couldn’t simply wait for Erwin’s departure like last time. When the reaper left, so did the food.
Tentatively, Levi unfolded himself from the mattress and approached the bars. His posture seemed to coil tighter with each silent step, and the chains barely made a jingle from the cuffs. It was an alarming trick to notice, and Erwin wondered how Levi managed the muted approach so casually. As if it was a skill learnt long ago to never let the restraints give his position away. Stalking was not a talent needed in a fighting ring against an opponent; not when you were in a small arena with no cover.
But for hunting and ambushing...
When he reached the edge of his cell, Levi --with no small amount of caution wired throughout his body-- snatched the bag from the ground, bending his knees to reach rather than at his waist, limiting exposed vulnerability. Erwin merely watched with a tilt to his head to show his interest, making a point to not hide his blatant observation. He wanted to see just how lenient Levi would tolerate unwanted attention. So far, he had been rather accepting.
Levi straightened almost immediately from seizing the offering, bag grasped against his stomach with his non-dominant hand, the other free as he stared guardedly at Erwin. It was difficult to read what the man was thinking aside from waiting for a terrible reaction to occur. An attack or anything unfavorable from the reaper. He evidently suspected Erwin’s intentions were an elaborate ploy—using Levi’s hunger against him.
That was what he assumed until the abrupt realization made the truth hit Erwin from left field.
Levi didn’t need to take the risk to get the food. GSIS regularly fed their prisoners, albeit bland meals. Yet, the wolven decided to chance the odds, prod a toe at the snare and see if his suspicions were confirmed.
Levi wasn’t the only one being tested here.
Levi was playing the game.
Erwin had to tamp down on the satisfied smirk that wanted to curl. Instead of falling into Levi’s poor opinion of him, he merely offered a polite ghost of a smile, resuming his efforts on pinching a steamed broccoli between his chopsticks. Without looking up, he could see the decision to remove his gaze eased Levi enough as he retreated away with his prize, not trusting to turn his back on Erwin despite the wall of steel bars between them. Rather than returning to his bed, Levi settled onto the hard ground, legs crossed and positioned in front of Erwin in the center.
Not too far away, but not close. He too was testing boundaries.
Clever creature.
Feigning interest in finishing his own meal, Erwin continued to steal glances at Levi, constantly watching him from his peripheral. The wolven skeptically pulled out a similar rice bowl and sniffed it, glancing curiously inside the bag to see a second pair of chopsticks and plastic fork.
He chose chopsticks.
Erwin suddenly wondered if he made a mistake and should’ve removed those before handing the food over. A desperate and intelligent person backed into a corner could use them for several ill-advised reasons, he was sure. But rather than jump to conclusions, Erwin decided to watch it play out, even as Levi broke them apart after a moment of consideration. Looking across at Erwin’s hands, he then attempted to copy the position, sloppily trying to pinch the wood tongs in the air. A full minute must’ve passed before Erwin realized he was entranced by his observation of Levi’s struggles, enough for him to clear his throat.
“There’s a fork in there, if you need it,” he supplied amiably.
Levi didn’t show any sign that he heard him, which caused a deadpanned gaze to go unnoticed. Apparently, Levi was not above selective hearing.
After some slight adjustments and few practice clamps, Levi was soon able to wield the utensils with expertise. Another interesting piece of information that Erwin catalogued for later consideration. A first timer wouldn’t have been able to do it so efficiently after a couple of minutes of practicing. The process he just witnessed was that of a person getting back on a bicycle after a long time. It came back to him.
So, what did that conclude in his mind? Levi understood them, could read, and was familiar with different utensils. All things that he could’ve learned from his time under Tybur but Erwin had a distinct feeling that wasn’t the case.
Reports on the Tybur Coven had little insight on the wolven fighters, making it appear as if they were only ever brought out on special occasions, such as the proxy fights. The limited information Nanaba was able to get during her interviews also supported that Levi was a secret Tybur kept close to his chest. Whether to avoid staining his image by possessing a lethal wolven or to keep Levi as his ace for specific uses, it was unclear. What was known was that Hange had seen no bond mark on Levi—confirming that Tybur’s ownership was unusual, if unofficial.
And then there was the blatant dislike for vampires that Levi had, making it difficult for Erwin to imagine him gaining etiquette lessons within the Coven. It was hard to concentrate on reading the Illiad when you wanted to rip your tutor’s throat out.
So, did Tybur ever have legal ownership to him?
It was something he’d been pondering—or he imagined he had been pondering. But judging by how Levi froze, eyes flicking up to him, Erwin realized his question must have slipped out accidentally. Both men had been distracted; Erwin in his musings, Levi with the flavorful food. Now, Levi’s focus was warily directed on Erwin as he contemplated what to do next.
Continue to stare at the reaper or resume eating?
Levi chose a third option and shook his head.
Well... If that wasn’t a form of communication, Erwin didn’t know what else to call it. Hope seemed too generous, but he couldn’t deny the swell of anxiousness that arose, almost too afraid to breathe wrong and spook the opportunity out of existence.
“Did he obtain you from another family?” Erwin then realized it was a stupid question as Levi had never been in the system to begin with, but his excitement was causing questions to tumble out before he could properly arrange them.
Again, Levi gave a subtle shake of his head. Then he took another bite of food as if uninterested in continuing the conversation.
Erwin wasn’t quite deterred yet. Sure, he was greedy with the minute progress, but now he couldn’t stop. He wanted more.
“Were you free before he got custody of you?”
There was the barest fraction of a pause, the chopsticks with the chicken hovering in midair before Levi continued eating. His attention was anchored to the bowl in his lap, not discouraged by the awkward maneuvering with the cuffs limiting his efforts.
Erwin frowned, felt the semblance of being doused by a bucket of cold water. The progress was fleeting, and Levi was determined to ignore Erwin again. But he tried regardless, needing the answer.
“Levi.”
The man didn’t acknowledge him, but Erwin didn’t miss the subtle glance upwards through dark lashes.
“Were you free?”
Without lifting his head, Levi’s eye flicked up a little further to meet Erwin’s gaze. They held contact for an unknown stretch of time, examining, judging, calculating. Weighing what the information would cost Levi, how it could be weaponized. Erwin wanted to promise it wouldn’t be turned against him. That it was for his own good. However, he suspected such a statement would be catastrophic for whatever the interaction presently happening could be classified as.
Levi finished his food quietly, leaving the question dangling like a hangman's rope between them. Then he placed the empty bowl—and chopsticks—into the bag, pulled himself to his feet and made a tentative approach to the bars. He didn’t fully reach them, no longer forced to get closer to collect anything.
A few feet back, he squatted to toss the bag the rest of the way where it plopped against the steel door. Somehow the gesture to lower himself rather than throw it while standing felt like an extension of respect. Maybe Erwin was being too positive, but every movement, twitch, and micro-expression of Levi’s felt like it held the weight of titanium. That if one slipped by Erwin, he’d miss out on learning something new.
When Levi stood, there was a lean in his stance, as if preparing to take a step back. Yet he remained planted, staring at Erwin a beat longer than necessary, which continued to drag by, adding another and another. The reaper felt the overwhelming urge to stand and cross the empty chasm between them. To coax this new side of Levi—the man willing to challenge the reaper for his own interests—to answer Erwin, to feed his need to know the truth.
But doing so would undoubtably have consequences, and that thought kept Erwin seated.
The only time they’d been within each other’s personal space was when violence was the twisting rope, when there was a desire to get away or inflict harm. What spanned between them now, on the brink of finding commonalities in one another, was No Man’s Land. The unclaimed space connecting two opposing forces uncertain whether to find a friend or enemy on the other side.
The corners of Levi’s lips were downturned, brows sunken into something resembling somberness.
Were you free?
Then the spell shattered, and Levi returned to his place on the cot. The conversation was slammed shut like the book. There was no more food to entice him further. No other reason to linger and try to squeeze more from the interaction. It had all turned arid.
Erwin once more withheld a sigh, resigned to not push his luck. He replaced the chair against the wall and scooped up the bag, pleased he wouldn’t have to disarm the wolven inside of probable weaponized cutlery.
After bidding Levi a polite goodbye for the day, he left with the realization that Levi had turned his back on him. Whether as a cold dismissal or because he was a little more comfortable in Erwin’s presence was unclear. But so long as there was a barrier between them, there was a sliver of trust that had formed.
Erwin had a lot to think about.
***
Just walk away.
Move on.
It had been a circling argument running laps in his mind since he returned home. The more he tried to convince himself of it, the more exhausted and uncertain he became.
Mark another consultation as complete and collect your pay. A nice metaphorical cheque with an equally nice sum.
Or more accurately, a ‘check’ as he’d been residing in America for the last century. Not unlike the same term used in a rousing game of chess, where a move places a king under immediate threat of capture. A chess match not unlike what had been initiated during the supposed charity gala the week prior with the elusive vampire.
Tybur may have made some calculated moves, but Erwin could simply walk away. He didn’t need to engage and chase. There was no longer anything he needed to prove to himself. Suspicions aside, Shadis wasn’t incorrect in asking what the point was to pursue the coven leader when they had the cut-and-dry confessions from two of the three offenders. If, for some unlikely reason, Erwin was able to validate his suspicions of Tybur’s involvement, all that the vampire would receive is a slap on the wrists and possibly uncomfortable rumors amongst his elite circle of bureaucrats. That seemed paltry compared to the damage done and the amount of work Erwin would do to keep the charges sticking.
It wasn’t worth it.
Not for pride, or justice, or only to prove a point.
He could simply finalize the current job, take a week off. Possibly be assigned a gleaning or two, until the next agency called him in for a job. Perhaps he could invite his friends over for dinner one weekend. Or they could do something out in the city like old times.
Meanwhile, Levi would go back to the shelter and be processed through the system. Maybe Tybur would find a way to get him back and the cycle would continue. But the murders wouldn’t. Supposedly. Per Shadis and SRC.
The world would continue to rotate, and life would move on as it should.
Or..., his mind conjured relentlessly as he gazed at the monitor, a snifter of brandy sitting beside his mouse. Or Tybur was involved, and the murders would simply continue. If that was the case, there was something bigger in the works and walking away would only give the vampire more power before GSIS got involved again.
It was such a stretch. A dicey leap to make with no evidence to support it aside from facts not lining up for Erwin. But he understood the risk he’d be taking. If he chose to not walk away, to pursue his hunch on his own, there was no way of predicting the scale of consequences that could be had; personal or otherwise.
So, Erwin continued to pour another drink just as he poured over informative sites regarding Wolven Management and Conservation protocols. Searching for loopholes and processes to secure custody of Levi before he was inevitably taken away from GSIS. He just needed a plan to keep the man from ending up at the shelter, or in Tybur’s possession, or someone else’s because...
Because... why?
Because he didn’t want him to go back to where he came, fighting Tybur’s battles or for entertainment?
No. It was because Levi was the only possible key he had. The only one who could confirm Erwin’s feeble suspicions that Willy Tybur was not the pristine, charitable suit he portrayed in public. And, above all else, to keep Levi from ending up in Tybur’s clutches again.
Were you free?
Erwin highly suspected Levi had been at some point. He wasn’t a wolven raised in the system, even one out of the country. There was a wildness to him. A fight and drive and cleverness that outshined the submissive wolvens in the shelter.
What did Tybur do to you, Levi?
And that thought spurred on a bout of self-reflection for Erwin. More questions about why he was dedicating his time and effort into helping Levi when there were so many wolven lives out there needing aid.
At least, whoever was sent to abduct Levi wanted him alive. At least, Levi was at a healthy weight. Maybe too much on the thin side, now that Erwin thought about it, but he wasn’t malnourished. And they hadn’t found any diseases, and he was relatively clean despite the minor injuries, dirt, and blood from his fight. And the bruises and indents from the cilice. Afterall, some wolvens were forced to stay in their own filth, so why didn’t Erwin try that hard to help them? Why was he refusing to lose his hold on Levi?
Erwin sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t put it to words but there was just something about the man. Something that continued to tug at Erwin's core like a tether.
That last meal they shared--another generous description--was rather comfortable given the circumstances. The way he looked blissfully unaware of Erwin watching him as he read on that dingy little cot while other prisoners were rowdy. He seemed lost in his own world, untroubled for once by the aggression of everything around him. There was no growling, no haughty glares, no flashing of teeth. He could’ve plucked Levi’s figure out of that cell and placed him in a quiet café on a crisp winter morning with the sun’s refracted light pouring through the window and it’d not look out of place in the least.
He supposed that fact spoke a bit more deeply about where Levi had come from than he expected if he could look so detached from the gloom of the basement holding cells, and yet he couldn’t purge that image from his head.
Erwin could walk away. Could do what others obligated themselves to and obey the directions of their superiors to move on.
Or he could willingly cross into the epicenter of entropy and ruin, pursue the aristocratic veneered monster in the name of moral righteousness. Erwin wanted to scoff at his own narcissistic praise. Moral high ground was a disguise over the rotting opinion Erwin felt regarding Willy Tybur. In his mind, he had already passed judgement. As for the rule of all Reapers remaining unbiased in their gleanings, Erwin had hypocritically separated himself from that. The golden scales were set. The feather of Ma'at on one plate, the vampire’s heart on the other. Erwin didn’t need SRC or Old Gods to tell him the scales would tip out of favor.
He knew.
He knew; therefore, he would make his next calculated play.
Erwin leaned back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he brought the glass to his lips... and added Levi to the chess board.
Notes:
Erwin is on the hunt now. Better watch out Tybur clan. 💀 Poor Levi doesn’t know what he’s about to get roped into. 😶 Next chapter is Levi's reveal for everyone curious, along with a bit of action :D
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I know the pacing is much different than Bloodroot if that’s what enticed you to check this story out. Either way, I appreciate your curiosity, the kudos, and comments. Thank you for giving it a shot!
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 9: Craxis
Notes:
TW: Academic talk between Erwin and Hange. I just felt it was worth the warning XD Also, who's ready for the reveal?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Craxis: n. the unease of knowing how quickly your circumstances could change on you—that no matter how carefully you shape your life into what you want it to be, the whole thing could be overturned in an instant...
--The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.
***
Erwin trudged through a broth of his own weariness, in conjunction to the murky puddles from the downpour the night prior.
With the amount of coffee he had consumed, one would think that the caffeine had begun to weave through his DNA strands, as if the coffee bean compounds were dissolving and reassembling his microscopic workings. It reminded him of a research article regarding habitual coffee drinkers having a decrease in DNA strand breakage. But the evidence to confirm it in the studies was overall inconclusive as there lacked any statistical significance.
Oh, hell. Just how exhausted was Erwin that he was unburying useless knowledge from the backyard of his mind?
The rotating entrance of GSIS swung quickly in his distraction, nearly colliding into his nose. Erwin jolted to a halt as the person leaving the building gazed back with wide, apologetic eyes, brows stretching closer to their hairline.
“Sorry! Sorry--I thought you saw me coming through.”
Erwin recovered, feeling the weight of the thermos in his hand heavier than before. God, he needed some sleep. It was too early in the morning to be thinking about insufficient scientific articles.
“No, that was my fault. No damage done,” he amended.
Erwin managed to get past the lobby and security with no further near-misses, making his way to the medical examiner lab downstairs. Upon entering the fray, it came as no surprise that the clutter had returned with the eccentric vampire’s presence, overtaking the organization that was the careful work of Moblit. Erwin stayed mindful to not bump into anything on the counters, fearing a stray sneeze could send the precarious liquid in the stacked vials dominoing onto the floor.
“Erwin! Good morning!”
Erwin braced himself, forcing every woken fiber of his tired brain to the surface. “Morning, Hange. How long have you been here?”
“Oh, you know,” she came around a counter that housed two sets of computers and a massive tower of a machine. It was labeled Trace 1310 GC, which was practically hieroglyphs in meaning to him. “Only since 4 a.m. Moblit should be here in another hour.”
“You said you had some results. Did you find something interesting?”
Hange stood in front of him, an animated grin stretching impossibly wide, her cheeks pushing her glasses higher in the process. “Would I have called you at midnight if it wasn’t something of significance?”
“You’ve called me at untimely hours for less,” he replied flatly.
“Have I? For what?”
He drowned a tired sigh with a sip, finding patience in the cooling coffee of his tumbler. “Hange, I have other things I need to do today. Can we move this along?”
“What’s the rush? I thought Shadis said that they were shutting the case.”
“Shadis and the Registry are happy to hand the humans over for trial and wrap a nice bow on it. But I’m still looking at bigger fish.”
“Willy Tybur.”
“If he’s the one responsible for encouraging Colt to entice those kids to commit fraudulent murder, all while using a generous wolven’s remains, then so be it. I’ll make sure it comes to light even if I must do it myself," he rambled sardonically.
“You must feel bad for Walsh, don’t you? Almost taking it a bit personal compared to other murder weapons.”
Erwin made a face. “Don’t refer to him in such a degrading way. You’re better than that, Hange.”
“Sorry—sorry. This job just dulls one’s filter after a while. Dark humor and all. Still... I’m not exactly wrong about you taking to this case. Well, the case, and our little anomaly in the holding cell.”
“I suppose,” he reluctantly admitted, looking off the side. “Anyway, what do you have?”
The eagerness returned as Hange bounced in place on the balls of her feet, rocking her side to side. “So, when we brought Levi in, I made sure to get numerous samples while he was out. Primarily blood, just so I could make use of a few broader tests. Given what happened in the parking lot, along with the noises he made, and the strange burns on the cadaver, Moblit and I made sure to expand on more than the traditional tests and, I’m telling you—Erwin, my genius is astounding.”
“What did you find out?” Erwin was starting to feel like a broken record.
“Well, my esteemed colleague who disbanded from GSIS and left me alone to fend for myself and only sees me when there’s murder afoot. Three words... Draco infernum canis.”
Erwin stared at her. Hange stared back. Neither followed up as if waiting for a reaction or further explanation. Was she implying Levi was a hybrid? Or was it something to do with a dragon? It was too early to scrounge up his retired Latin knowledge.
Taking a breath, Erwin was the first to break the silence. “I understand the individual Latin roots, but I’m not sure what you’re trying to convey with those words together.”
Still much too chipper for his tolerance, Hange simply replied, “I figured.” And to Erwin’s annoyance, didn’t bother to elaborate.
Internally, he had to remind himself not to lose his composure. Hange was doing it on purpose to get a rise from him. She had a way of being overly impish when it came to dangling knowledge over her intellectual equal. Always looking for ways to gloat to a fellow academic ‘look what I discovered, and you didn’t’. Fortunately for his dwindling sanity, Hange also had enough sense to realize when he was genuinely irate.
Sobering her excitement, she revised, “I don’t know how in-depth you want me to go into it. You’re obviously on edge.”
“That doesn’t seem to bother you one bit.” She snorted at that, but it was enough to stir amusement at his own expense. “Just tell me in your typical, signature way.”
“Alright—where to start... I primarily used refrigerated centrifuges to evaluate his RNA, protein, and enzymes. It yielded some stimulating results.”
“RNA? Not DNA?”
“Mhm. I mean sure, it has similar information, but I decided to focus on the RNA instead. Think of it as a synopsis rather than a detailed research paper on a specific topic. It shows genetic information and how cells respond during development and changing environments.”
“And what are the results?”
She hesitated and Erwin could faintly hear the non-existent drumroll building up the reveal.
“Levi is quite possibly... a Hellhound.”
All previous annoyances dissipated. Even his exhaustion was dulled, as if the caffeine in his veins finally received a jolt from a defibrillator, waking him up. The single term pulsated in his skull with the imperial drumbeat of an approaching army, persistent and unignorable.
Hellhound. Hellhound. Hellhound.
Before he could form his thoughts, Hange was already diving into her spiel.
“You see, ‘draco infernum canis’ is one of the older variations of the name and stemmed from the even older ‘Dacian draco’ in 500 BCE. The Dacian people generated their own culture in central Europe over time and even molded together the creature that was said to be a mix of a dragon, a wolf, and a serpent.”
Erwin couldn’t douse the rise in skepticism from whitewashing his surprise. “Last I heard, a hellhound was a wolven variant that demons worked alongside. They don’t walk this realm, not to mention there’s been no validations to confirm they’re real.”
“That depends on the version of the story,” Hange countered, “The different recounts are greatly exaggerated in so many ways that it’s hard to pin down which is exactly true. The Dacian draco to the Dacian people was a symbol for their military and some believed religion. Take Cerberus from Greek mythology, or Garmr from Norse. Then there’s the Black Shuck, which I know you’ve heard of before.”
He hummed, growing more interested in the topic than he anticipated. “English folklore of a black beast that guarded graveyards and the like. Said to slumber in catacombs.”
Hange nodded. “And if we’re looking strictly at the traditional sense of hellhound, bar the dragon side of it, the earliest written record was in England around the Anglo-Saxon period.”
“And I assume the fact you brought up the difference regarding dragon connection means something.”
“Oh, definitely. You know that little burn on your hand that’s been slow to heal?”
Erwin could practically feel the heat stoke at the reminder, sensing the ghost of pain reignite his seared nerves in his palm.
“While some hellhounds are said to be a creature of fire—given the on the nose name—they aren’t said to actually create it. Only have a natural resistance to it.”
“There’s a chance that the manuscripts got it wrong.”
Wow. That wounded Erwin to say that. But as much as he enjoyed burying his face into the pages and nourishing his brain with new enlightenment, he understood the shortcomings of recollection through the deterioration of centuries. Not everything had the entire picture or was absent from partiality by the authors.
Hange seemed equally shocked by his admission but ultimately agreed. “That’s entirely likely. As you know, it’s difficult to distinguish just who wrote these historic accounts. Humans have such a blimp of an existence that their involvement in any subject they dedicate their lives to is equivalent to a passing fancy for Supras. But if the written accounts were from older living Supras, it’s feasible to have longer dedication and more significance. But as our kind were hidden from humans and not a part of the world, as we are now, it’s nearly impossible to tell.”
“Understandable. Even so, someone would’ve known about hellhounds if they were common. Even Cerberus didn’t walk the Earth and was guardian of the Netherworld.”
“Exactly. I wish I had more information regarding it, but I’ve spent hours last night, trying to find an explanation to the results. Everything is misconstrued. For all we know, there could be various lore that overlap versions of the facts, or there’s hellhound variants like wolvens. Either way, there’s hardly any records of them to know for sure. As far as I know, hellhounds are creatures in the Netherworld more than the living realm. It’s likely a very small population lives among us to have gone unnoticed for so long. And after dating Levi’s cell structure, he’s relatively young considering.”
“Young?”
“Mhm.” She shuffled to a monitor and started pulling up her summarized findings that already had charts integrated within the text. It seemed she was in the middle of consolidating into a scientific paper. “Evaluating the blood work, I analyzed the structure of his hemoglobin and measured the levels his alkaline phosphatase. If my estimations are correct in the readings, he’s early to mid-thirties in human reference. As for hellhound age, I’m not so sure. I’d imagine it’s the same lines as the rest of Supras.”
The information circled around his tired psyche, like vultures detecting carrion. To think that Levi wasn’t a wolven or a hybrid, but something that should exist primarily in the myth or the Netherworld. A place where Reapers sent the gleaned souls in the afterlife—it was paradoxical.
Hange’s exuberance dampened as the subject advanced. It settled like the aftermath of an earthquake, rubble falling into new shapes, debris floating through the air. The weight of the discovery could not be ignored. Not just for them, but in the bigger picture with society. If word got out, SRC would demand Levi be handed over and quite possibly interrogated before being experimented on until there was nothing left.
Clearing her throat, Hange continued her analysis. “Regarding the dragon hypothesis, as you know, there’s a difference between reptiles and mammals in the blood cells and other aspects of microbiology. But hemoglobin samples are the easiest ways to distinguish them. Blood cells in reptiles are usually larger than that of their mammalian counterparts and oval shaped. Mammals are not so uniform and adopt different forms due to not having nuclei in the blood cells. Here look at how amazing this is.”
She thrust a piece of paper into his hands with an image that was taken from a microscope of a petri dish. In the photo were lavender oval shapes with a dark elliptical center resembling an eye. Around the larger cells were smaller, almost transparent circular shapes, some darker than others in a dusty rose color that reminded him of sea glass. She leaned over his arm to point out what he was looking at, confirming the differences between reptile and mammal characteristics.
“This is just one variance discovered. Then I got to thinking about other traits and what’s been scientifically discovered already like that of a platypus. Monotreme cell hybrids that have a combination genome of reptile and mammal. More research would be needed to really get a good grasp but it’s undeniable. Your little friend is unique in more ways than one.”
What a strange morning it was shaping out to be. He had started thinking about DNA upon entering GSIS, only to walk into a full-blown lecture about confirming a new Supra species, bringing them out of a fable and into the basement. Strange how life lined up clusters of similarities at a time.
“We need to keep this to ourselves,” he ordered. “If outsiders learn that Levi’s—”
“Trust me,” she interrupted, entirely subdued as she understood the gravity of the situation. “I won’t be telling anyone aside from Moblit who already knows. And he won’t say a word either.”
“And Shadis isn’t aware?”
“Only us three,” she confirmed. Hange paused, fixing him with a calculating tilt of her head. “So, what are you going to do now?”
What was he going to do? Well, learning that Levi wasn’t a wolven did put things into a new perspective. Not that it necessarily dissuaded him from anything he settled on the night prior. In fact, it gave him a starting point to build off from. He was no longer entering each interaction with Levi blind--granting there was not an abundance of research for Hellhounds, he could consolidate what there was. Compare and contrast. Reference what was known with wolvens as there had been enough similarities for Levi to pass as a Loup-garou this long with so many people.
“For one, I’m going to read over your summary,” 10-page summary, “when I have more awareness in me. In the meantime, I need to speak with Shadis and discuss extending Levi’s stay here for the foreseeable future.”
“Perfect, keep me in the loop. I want to help where I can, even if I have to make up some reason to convince the Director.”
***
As Erwin entered the conference room, Flagon was in the middle of discussing an assignment with Nanaba and Mike. He didn’t interrupt their conversation, quietly walking around the table to settle in the chair beside Mike, a persistence of shock causing everything to haze at the edge of his focus.
Hellhound. The word burned acres under Erwin’s skin.
A hellhound, in the land of the living? The only way possible to pass through the barrier of the Netherworld required seals to create a sort of doorway. Not unlike those tattooed into the three corpses, had they been conducted with care and accuracy.
“If he’s not home, we’re going to his place of employment, but the company’s HR there said he wasn’t scheduled to come in today,” Flagon explained overhead, standing near the door and preparing to leave.
“Alright, we’ll be sure to have a car for each team in case you have to look elsewhere for him,” Nanaba replied, reviewing a sheet of paper with a brief description of their suspect.
“We’ll keep the channels clear unless we need you,” Flagon went on to say. “And if that ends up being the case and you’re sent out, remember we’re authorized for it to end as a reaping. SRC and the U.S. Government aren’t willing to take chances with this guy’s history. Hopefully, it’ll just be a straightforward arrest, and he doesn’t fight back, but we’re anticipating him trying to give us Hell.”
“We’ll be on standby with a reaper in each vehicle,” Mike reassured. “Just let us know what you need.”
“Appreciate it. Your team was my first pick for support.” Flagon opened the door but shot Erwin a nod, finally acknowledging him. “Feel free to jump in the car if we call for backup. I’d love to have you along, sir.”
Erwin commissioned a chuckled that felt too forced when his mind was elsewhere. “Hopefully, you don’t need the support. You have a good team under you, but I know Nanaba’s unit would be invaluable if the need arises. Good luck and happy hunting.”
“Thanks. See you all later.”
“Be careful, Flagon,” Nanaba replied while Mike gave him a short wave.
After the door shut, Mike shifted in his seat to look at Erwin. “Shadis isn’t cutting your contract off yet, is he?”
“He hasn’t said anything about it, but I suspect he’ll be closing it soon,” Erwin answered, not giving away his opinion on the matter.
Mike shook his head. “If he had any sense, he wouldn’t be making these careless decisions. Just because they’re pressing charges on the kids doesn't mean something else won’t come up at the last minute. There’s still the other skull left unaccounted for and we’re unable to confirm with evidence that the first three murders were the work of Travis’ group.”
“I suspect with the confessions, Shadis is banking on the Jury not putting much consideration into that and simply settle on their admission.”
Before either Nanaba or Mike could offer a reply, the conference door opened as Jean and Nile stepped in, both freezing in the threshold upon seeing Erwin. Jean was the first to recover, offering a greeting as he found a place at the table, but Nile remained where he was, shoulders slumping and looking like he would rather have opened a door to anywhere else.
Erwin paused in nursing his stale black coffee refill from the breakroom, sensing that his presence was the reason for the sudden unease.
“What’s going on, Nile?” he asked bluntly, shocking his old friend out of his daze.
Nile cleared his throat, raking a hand through his thinning widow’s peak. “I-uh... Just wasn’t expecting to see you here, is all.”
Erwin’s brows knitted together. “Is my presence causing trouble?”
“No. Not at all. It’s just... well. The case is closed.”
“And?” Erwin pressed impatiently.
Nile sighed. “And I don't see why you'd come into work. That wolven you were going to question was sent back this morning. I just didn’t think you had a reason to be here now with nothing to do.”
It felt like the carpet was yanked out from under his feet, despite sitting in the chair.
“... What?”
“They, uh, took him this morning—”
Erwin was immediately on his feet, chair shoved back from the momentum. “Where? Back to the shelter?”
Was this Shadis’ doing? Sure, he knew GSIS wasn’t planning to waste more resources on it, but shutting down all leads the very next day seemed overly drastic. Was Shadis truly accelerating the Cascade Butcher case to close so quickly just because of the PR trouble with SRC?
It was true that Erwin hadn’t been paying much attention to the media since he started the case, but surely Tybur’s lawyer hadn’t stirred up that much of a press nightmare. What made it worse was everything playing out to Willy Tybur’s favor. Levi was returning to the shelter where he’d have easier access to get him back, all while shaking off any unwanted attention on his Coven from GSIS.
“That’s what I assume,” Nile rambled, “I wasn’t told much aside from making sure he was loaded up without incident. The drugs they dosed him with were heavier than before to make sure he didn’t prematurely awaken, but it seemed a bit overkill given his small size. The anesthesiologist assured me that he’d be fine, even though he did hit the floor hard--”
Erwin started marching toward the door, no longer listening to Nile’s explanation. He had to leave now. Pawns were moving, and he couldn’t keep staring at the board trying to predict what would happen next. He needed to counter.
“Erwin? Hey—where are you going?” Mike called out.
“To get him back.”
***
Hange was the first person he contacted after leaving the conference room, calling her no soon then when he stepped out of the building. It took zero convincing on his part to have the vampire drop her current project and meet him as his SUV, understanding the direness of the situation for what it truly was.
While he drove, she attempted to call Shadis and ask for information on Levi, but the Director was in a meeting and unable to answer his phone. Erwin wasn’t waiting around for confirmation, already following the GPS on the fastest route to the Olympia shelter. When they arrived, they marched around the short line in front of the receptionist, Erwin holding his temporary active badge on display as he cut in on the conversation at the desk. The dirty looks aimed at his back from the customers shrunk away when they realized what he was and his affiliation, even going so far as to take a few retreating steps to give the pair the illusion of privacy.
The receptionist was hasty in informing Hugh about their arrival, likely to limit exposure of the agents from the public and avoid questionable reviews. Or whatever it was that dictated their proud reputation. Erwin did not care. Not for the shelter’s status, nor the feelings for the customers looking to take home a wolven just for another systematically fed power imbalance and false comfort of the privileged. He wasn’t bitter.
“Agent Smith, oh, and Agent Zoe,” Hugh called stiffly as he came from the rear hall. He didn’t enter the front lobby to greet them, choosing to lean against the door as a silent summon to remove themselves from open view. His tone was strained, failing to hide the deliberate inconvenience of their abrupt arrival. “Please, right this way.”
Erwin and Hange wove into the secure corridor, where Hugh ushered them further into the building.
“What is it I can help you with?”
“We’re here on behalf of Levi,” Erwin explained as they approached the set of double doors that led to the intake territory. “He was removed prematurely and we’re here to remedy that.”
“Ah,” Hugh’s lips pressed together in a tight grimace. “That’s troubling. We were under the impression he was returned to our custody entirely.”
“Did you get the results back on his background check?” Hange piped in.
“Yes.” Hugh scanned his key, allowing the door to open for them to enter the back. “As expected, there wasn’t any information from other international inquiries. No criminal history or otherwise.”
Erwin wanted to feel relief at that, but knew, after his late-night researching policies, that it did nothing to swing the odds in his favor. It only armed WMC with barbed hooks to sink into Levi and keep him in their system.
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Erwin replied, regardless of his true feelings. “But all the same, we are needing to return him to GSIS. Someone on our end acted hastily, and for that I apologize for any inconvenience it caused on your department.”
Hugh halted in front of one of the first set of cells, turning so he faced Erwin and Hange. He held the tablet up to his chest and his gaze continued to flutter around in avoidance. A subconscious indication of preparing to deliver bad news.
“That will be a problem, sir. If you recall, 3828 was rather sought after in terms of adoption potential. That being said, once we got word his background check was cleared, we prioritized him above the others to go into our behavior rehabilitation,” he explained, gesturing in the air at some imagined location.
Erwin unintentionally followed the movement, snagging his attention on the occupant of the cell beside them. It was one of the first wolvens from the fighting ring, Gunther, that watched them from inside, barely interested in what was being said. The fact that Gunther was already on the waiting list and Hugh pushed Levi ahead of him was not a revelation he was pleased to make. Even Hange was blatantly put off by the news.
“Erwin,” she addressed, not concerned by Hugh’s ability to overhear their discussion. “Those facilities that WMC oversee are usually inexpensive for shelters, but they get results quickly by using some... questionable methods of conditioning. Not inhumane, necessarily, but not as... attentive or mindful in practices as private obedience or behavioral rehabilitations.”
Erwin remembered reading a similar synopsis on various forums, how the government funded agency was focused on results rather than ethics. There wasn’t money to be had if they customized their training per each wolven’s needs. Only the most receptive and quickest methods were appropriately applied to the majority to slingshot success rates.
Unsurprisingly, Hugh was prepared to defend the practices. “Now, that’s a baseless notion. There are situations where supplemental training and flexibility are applied for special cases.”
“Special, as in what?” she challenged back, “Special if they have better odds of adoption, or if they’ve already been signed for?”
Hugh’s customer service mask was cracking as he huffed indignantly. “Do you understand how many intakes our shelters receive? Our largest clientele are humans and if the wolvens they adopt are not assigned in their wills to remain in the family, they are returned to us after death. Add those numbers on top of the strays, surrenders, and the likes, and you’ll understand we don’t have the luxury of time for each case. WMC has a process in place that’s a well-oiled machine and focuses on efficiently reforming wolvens to be homed.”
As they continued debating integrity, Erwin’s mind was busy shoving everything to the forefront for the ready; a metaphorical rolodex of information relaying the objectives, policies, and procedures for obedience training that they’d be subjecting Levi to. The most blatant recollection--spotlight and all pinning it in place--was what happened if a shelter-admitted wolven failed the rehabilitation. If they were lucky, they’d be admitted to a second facility. If they still failed, it was another route to meet the needle.
The unbidden thought of Levi being strapped to a cold table so they could administer that last fatal injection made Erwin’s stomach churn. Yet, no matter how much he wanted to rage against the outcome, the reality was the same. Without a warrant, his hands were tied.
Stuck in a pendulum swing between loopholes and next steps, the words were leaving him before he was even aware.
“Was Levi officially approved for adoption to a client before he was sent to the facility?”
Hugh was in the middle of debating another subject with Hange when Erwin interrupted, causing him to stutter before regaining composure. “No. We didn’t take the time to discuss it with the potential owners. We were planning to call them later today to let them know 3828 would be available if they were still interested in proceeding.”
“And if that’s the case, they’d wait the 6 months until collecting him?”
He adjusted his glasses, glancing between Erwin and Hange to see if he would be able to find a clue where the discussion was going. When he couldn’t decipher a lead, he began to fiddle with the tablet.
“That’s correct. Unless the one approved preferred 3828 to be trained at a certified, private facility. Those companies are still required to meet WMC protocols and benchmarks but do offer more customized plans better suited to training wolvens into specific roles or who remain particularly difficult. If they aren’t concerned with it, then 3828 will remain in-house for his treatment.”
“I’m adopting him.”
Hange and Hugh whipped their gazes around on Erwin, but it was the facilitator who responded first, stumbling over his words like hurdles.
“Y-you can’t simply... There’s a process—a-a home and background check—You’d need to apply first.”
“My GSIS status already indicates my background is clean,” Erwin retorted.
“There’s still the house check, and-and 3828 has already had two other people interested ahead of you—”
“Then backdate the forms. Have it show that I was the first to inquire about him and make it sound like it was an accidental oversight.”
Hugh shook his head, digging his heels in to battle Erwin over policies. But Erwin was no longer interested in playing games with the human. The longer Levi was being handled and antagonized, the more likely he’d reveal that he wasn’t wolven. These people in the training facilities handled unfriendly wolvens every day, thus wouldn’t be so easily fooled like the audience of fighting rings or intake departments pushing papers. They were wasting time arguing.
Before Hugh could spout off more excuses, a cold void settled over Erwin’s features, the temperature around them plummeting enough to entice a chill. A haze vibrated around the space, manifesting a sapphire cloak and scythe into existence, draping over his suit like a waterfall with the hood down. Even if it was a little showy on his part, Erwin flourished the scythe around in his palm, allowing the light to catch the razor’s edge in a wink as the tip of the antler barely skimmed the linoleum floor in its arch.
All color drained as Hugh stumbled backwards into the wall, nearly dropping his tablet in the process. Even Hange took a retreating step from the brash display, remaining mute as Erwin took charge of the interaction.
Hugh must have recognized the cloak and scythe as he began to panic, previous dissuasion turned self-preserving. “Please! Don’t—we had a deal--!”
“I decide when the debt is paid, unless you’re convinced your soul is more valuable than some wolvens.”
“Hold on—Ok, just-just. Alright! I’ll--I’ll write up the documents. Just give me a few minutes!”
Erwin jutted his chin in a gesture to go, which Hugh scrambled to take advantage of, jogging into the refuge of a nearby office. His display was undoubtably unsettling, causing a cascading effect on the cells’ inhabitants. Like meerkats, the wolvens behind the bars had perked up, some backing further in the cages to not entice unfavorable attention from the miffed reaper.
While the human side of law enforcement was subjected to scrutiny by the public for unlawful abuse of power and brutality, Reapers did not necessarily share the same level of examination. The odds of Hugh thinking to report duress from the soul gleaner was highly unlikely. Reapers held themselves to a consecrated standard of dignity to their own laws amongst their kind. They lacked the same level of sacrilege greed, and in its place was a potent overflow of pride. They killed good and bad and everything in between. Souls needed to be fed to the Netherworld just as living creatures needed sustenance to survive, all to maintain balance. Logical creatures as they were, being influenced by emotions was a scarce occurrence.
That wasn’t to say they were absolved from blights of sin and poor decisions, but the rarity was not enough to encourage a pitchforks, exorcist, tanks, or whatever outsiders believed would help scare reapers into submission. SRC’s regulation on death rates seemed to be the only external stronghold on that front. Although, many did try throughout the centuries to discourage reapers from gleaning, and like a plague, it would rise and infect the minds of others looking for retribution against the acolytes of Death. Meanwhile, the pious groups believed it was all heresy that Reapers would kill for personal gain, whereas the remaining demographics simply feared them and avoided all chances to cross their paths.
Therefore, while Hugh could report Erwin for suspicion of coercion, it was unlikely to gain traction. It was still a risky move on his part. There was always a chance the Registry would show up at Erwin’s doorstep, opening an investigation and determining an apt punishment.
“So... that just happened,” Hange drawled, gaze drifting over to the cameras perched in the corner of the hallways like electric gargoyles. “Should I even ask?”
“Probably not,” Erwin replied tightly, disarming his effects so he was back to his crisp dry-cleaned suit.
“Then, I won’t.”
Too good to be true. Once they were clear from the building, Hange would fire off every inquiry in her cache. He only hoped Hugh would hurry to prevent the vampire from collecting an arsenal of questions in the meantime.
Mercifully, not even five minutes later, Hugh was returning with rosy cheeks and a ballpoint pen squeezed between his fingers. He handed a slip of paper to Erwin with an address and contact information for another facility. He briefly mentioned he called ahead to let the front desk know to expect them, along with a terse explanation that Erwin would need to discuss custody transfer for Levi with their staff.
Taking that as a mutual dismissal from each other’s wary company, Erwin left with Hange on his heels, not missing how Hugh muttered under his breath that he “didn’t get paid enough for this.”
A short walk through the lobby, and the GSIS employees were climbing into the SUV, only too eager to leave the shelter in the rearview.
“What you did was stupid, Erwin,” Hange stated flatly, no sooner than the car doors shut.
That didn’t take long.
Erwin sighed as he turned on the ignition. The directions from his phone transferred to the SUV’s screen after a short delay.
“I just want to make sure you’re aware of your actions,” Hange continued. “Because if word got out that Hugh Conley had a Reaper visit him when he was alone and threatened his soul if he didn’t cooperate, then SRC would be down that Reaper’s throat. While I wish I could say that I’d never expect that from you, that’d be a lie. But seriously, Erwin. Death threats are still death threats. It doesn’t matter what you are.”
Erwin kept his irritation in check by pretending that he was an unassociated third party. It was best to let Hange say what she needed, to vent over his impulsive, and agreeably, questionable decisions.
“What exactly are you upset about?” he asked, devoid of inflection.
“What exactly? Maybe the part about how you’re making all these huge plays and not filling me in on what I’m missing? You’re moving too fast, Erwin. We just concluded that Levi might be a hellhound, and then I find out you’re manipulating laws while you take up your one-man army on some quest against a snobbish—and well-established, mind you-- coven.”
Erwin put his arm on the back of her seat as he craned his head to look behind him. He never cared to use the reverse camera on the display. Some habits took longer to adopt, despite his eagerness for new inventions. Vehicles in general were one thing the reaper was stubbornly clinging to the past with. While his SUV was his so called ‘work vehicle’, his pride was an old, restored 66 ford truck.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, recognizing the pointlessness of explaining himself.
“You don’t sound very sorry.”
“What do you want me to say? I figured you, of all people, would be eager to get Levi back after discovering what he is.”
“That’s out of my own desire of learning about him, sure. But I’m not over here rashly breaking laws to do it. At least, not on my own. I’d tell someone about it, if I was.”
“Is that what this is about? Not dragging along an accomplice in my investigation? Was I supposed to tell you I planned to visit Conley and allow him to make false assumptions that I was there to glean his soul?”
“Preferably, yes.”
As Erwin pulled the car onto the street, he took his time to form an answer, sifting through his ire and trying to keep an outside perspective.
Was he taking risks that he normally wouldn’t take? Was he being reckless?
Not in comparison to what he’d done in the past, but in recent decades, he could say that’s what it would appear as. In first person perspective, he didn’t think it was reckless, it was just... his way of keeping Levi from Tybur.
“I don’t make a habit of it, Hange.”
“Not yet,” she muttered petulantly.
“You know I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary.”
“Necessary, in what sense? Bringing Tybur down or getting Levi?”
“Both.”
Hange grumbled something else under her breath that he couldn’t decipher. Eventually, she shrugged, an echo of displeasure still lingering.
“Keep me in the loop from now on and I’ll forgive your grievous transgressions.”
“Is that all it takes to get out of your scolding?”
“To be honest,” she shot him a mischievous grin, much different than the frustration seconds prior. “I’m finding this more entertaining than concerning. Rebellious Erwin is making a comeback after almost two centuries of sabbatical. It’ll be fun to see what empire you try to overthrow this time.”
“Empires are dead. It’s just governments now.”
Hange snorted a laugh. “Of course they’re dead. They met you.”
***
Before everything went to shit, Levi had barely managed to avoid screaming profanities and threats at the orderlies around him. To declare vehemently that he was not supposed to be here, suffocated by white-on-white-on-white. The oppressively pungent, sharp, and somewhat musty odor of bleach and rubbing alcohol had his hackles rising, knowing such a setting was accompanied by needles and people who wanted something from him. Whether that something was molding him to fit an objective or taking a piece away forever, he didn’t know, nor care. It was uninvited all the same.
How the fuck had his life come to this?
For years of his captivity, he plotted revenge. Masterfully creating scenarios in such minute details that he could taste the copper and iron of blood in the air, feel the ghostly warmth of it splash on his chilled skin, offering reprieve like a hot bath after a long day. In some fantasies, he soaked in it. Allowed the arterial spray to linger on him, a mimicry of pagan rituals displaying devotion to Old Gods or a divine self-cleansing. In other daydreams he sneered at the mess that his mind and hunger conjured, disgusted by the contamination of his illusionary actions. A war with himself just as much as a war against his intended victims.
Despite the morbid, gory, and—dare he say--indulgent pastime, those desires that kept him going were slipping through his fingers as each day ticked by. Each person crossing his path moved him further away. Further from the original cage--that at some point had become his. And away from the oubliette and the captors and all the unsavory sins and... Tybur. Most of all, away from Tybur.
Any sane person would sob in relief to be absent from their jailor and tormentor. To finally be liberated and in a place where the orderlies were there to help them move past the abuse and become a functioning part of the normal world. But Levi never agreed to any of that. All his choices continued to be wrenched from his cloying hands, his desires being locked away in a drawer like a parent keeping a set of scissors out of reach. He didn’t care if he got hurt in the process, damn it, he had an objective, and these assholes kept taking him from that.
The fluorescents pounded relentlessly at his sensitive eyes, and if he spared a second to cut off his growling, he could hear the electrical buzz overhead. The bars of the claustrophobic chute hugged him from every angle, only offering reprieve from the metal ceiling and spare feet in front of his sneering muzzle.
Upon coming out of his sedation, Levi had been forced to shift with a simple—albeit fucking agonizing—injection. He’d never experienced something so invasive and assaulting, feeling like his body was both electrified and doused in the icy waters of the Arctic Sea, making the sheer concept of breathing seem impossible. Every fiber and sinew of his body contorted and twisted unnaturally until he was a writhing, screaming mess with hot tracks of tears genuinely breaking free of his clamped lashes. After what felt like eons of distorting torture before the pain finally receded like the tide, Levi realized he was no longer on the gurney, but in his beastly form panting on the narrow floor of a metal chute; not unlike the contraptions used for doctoring livestock.
And now, having recovered from the overwhelming assault of his shifted anatomy, he was left with the oily residue of pain and wrath. Snarling at the undeterred orderlies outside the chute who observed him with varying degrees of interests. And above all else, Levi’s ability to rationalize his abruptly foreign situation was stripped from him. Once the offensive scent of two vampires in the room invaded his nose, all capacity to simply think and adjust his reactions vanished. Even the goal of limiting accidental exposure was promptly jammed into a confined wooden chest in the deepest recesses of his mind.
But to his credit, Levi tried to calm down.
Tried to not allow his emotions to overrule reason.
Tried to not loath his situation and rely on the instinctive—or perhaps conditioned—need to tear out the throats of the bloodsuckers in his vicinity.
But his voice was tiny and weak against his distress, yet he didn’t give in. He continued to fight to restrain his responses by reminding himself that these weren’t the people responsible for everything. That he should only unleash the pent-up destruction against Tybur, to protect himself and others from further anguish.
Others? What others?, his fury whispered back in the pitch of his skull. It’s just you, now. You’re all that remains.
Perhaps, it was Levi who was the scissors; locked inside a facility, away from those that needed protection. How fucking poetic.
An orderly leaned closer to the bars and Levi snapped his jaws at him. But the man merely startled, not remotely intimidated by Levi’s threat enough to retreat.
“Are you sure you want us here during his intake evaluation?” one of the vampires in pale blue scrubs asked, looking over at the one apparently in charge. “I’m afraid we’re only distressing him further.”
The man he addressed wore matching blue trousers with the collar of a personal undershirt peaking below a short-sleeved, white button up. There were break-away lanyards dangling IDs on most of the orderlies around and Levi could just make out the supervisor’s name as Perry Norton. Some certified Training Lead.
“Yes,” Perry replied curtly, watching Levi stare through the bars. “The charts specified that he has an aversion to vampires, so I wanted to gauge the extent. We’ll need to nip it in the bud first and foremost.”
A door opened somewhere out of sight as dull footsteps approached. A new presence appeared amongst the group, halting beside Perry and looking severely overdressed amid the cluster of blue. The dark suit with flamboyant pinstripes in the training annex was as out of place as Levi felt. An inky stain in the center of an otherwise sterile bone-white room.
“Is this the one?”
“Yes, Director. He arrived this morning and we’ve just started his intake exam.”
The suited man clasped his arms behind his back, tilting his chin while Levi continued to growl, begging someone to reach inside so he could alleviate them of their limb.
“And Mr. Conley was sure it was Alpha Yeager and Mr. Stuart that were interested in him?”
“That’s what he told us,” Perry shrugged, clipboard dangling sideways at his hip. “We’re advised to take extra measures as needed to ensure he’s trained. If Mr. Stuart decides to take ownership, he may have additional suggestions pertaining to the direction he wants to go. We’re planning to establish a baseline of what’s required today.”
The Director hummed, wrinkles scrunching together as his gaze skipped over Levi’s form appraisingly. “Is he a hybrid? He’s awfully small, and some of his traits are... highly exaggerated.”
Perry lifted the clipboard, thumbing through the printouts. “Mr. Conley’s report said that this one was allegedly under the ownership of Lord Willy Tybur, though nothing to confirm with certainty. The wolven was seized during a proxy fight, and Conley speculated that he may be of foreign breeding, either with designer traits in mind or he could be the opposite. Could be a genetic hodgepodge of a poor-quality sire and dam.”
“How was the bloodwork?”
“All cleared. No diseases, and he’s relatively healthy, aside from a build-up of scar tissue, and being slightly underweight. If Stuart or Yeager back out of the application, we can expect his human appearance to deter potential adopters. He’s lacking in the appeals department with the blemishes. But,” he drawled, “his wolven form may entice them enough to make up for it, especially with his size. He’d make a good house pet. After a nail trim.”
While Levi knew his form was unusual, given he wasn’t a loup-garuo as everyone continuously assumed, the insults were unnecessarily redundant. The wild theories worked in his favor to disguise the truth, but that didn’t mean he tolerated the disrespect. Instead, he bristled, shoving his side into the bars to test if the chute was bolted in place.
The contraption gave a couple of centimeters. Enough to have everyone’s attention watch him charily but not enough to strictly worry. It certainly wouldn’t do Levi any good to tip the chute, as he had nowhere to move, and the contraption was sturdy enough to take the abuse, no matter how hard it landed.
The Director seemed displeased by Levi’s protest. “Proceed as you will. I’ll come back to observe after a while.”
Perry nodded as the employer left, then gestured with the clipboard to the orderlies. “Alright, we’re treating this one as we treat temporary ferals. Get the muzzle and surcingle.”
The crowd dispersed in unison, everyone picking a task and moving about. There were eight orderlies to keep track of. An impossible task when Levi couldn’t truly turn his head to look behind him. But soon enough, the strangers were standing around the chute on both sides, deaf to his growling as they moved methodically, feeding the tail of a broad leather strap between the bars by his ribs, another person prepared to reach in on the opposite side. Two others stood across the bars by his head with a recognizable muzzle in hand, waiting for the opportunity to slip it on.
Good luck.
If Levi had a say in it, he’d be trying for at least two hands to come off before they could manage to stop him. Starting with the one on his left, preparing now to sneak inside and grab the leather cinch. After all, it was good to create goals for oneself.
Just as Levi was about to back as far into the rear of the chute to gain access to the invasive limb, someone else glided in a snare pole at the last second, looping around his neck with a galvanized wire, and jerking the aluminum handle back. It pulled taunt against his throat, nearly to the point of choking, which sent his fury spiraling.
Levi thrashed his head side to side, backed onto his haunches as he pulled with all the limited leverage that he had available. But it was the olive-complexion vampire on the other end, with formidable strength to counter his desperation. In his attempt to get the pole away from him, Levi failed to notice the myriads of hands inside the chute, penetrating the ladder of bars to hastily fasten the leather cinch around his middle, just behind his shoulder blades and elbows. It clamped down tight over his withers, reigniting his efforts to reach and bite down on anyone that got too close. But the muzzle smashed onto his snout before he opened his jaw, and soon it was all just pointless, wasted energy.
The chute wheels were unlocked, and the orderlies maneuvered the contraption until it flushed with another cage. In the middle of the assault and confusion, the doors of the chute lifted like a guillotine with another vampire orderly on the opposite side of the enclosure. In the back of his mind, Levi knew entering the next attachment was playing into these lunatics’ ploy. Putting himself at further risk, no doubt. Yet it was a danger he was willing to entertain when the alternative was staying in the narrow chute where he already experienced the disadvantage.
As soon as the snare slipped free from his neck, Levi shot into the next cage, still cramped though a little more room was afforded. Not that it really mattered.
What he failed to notice was that the nickel alloy muzzle was fixed with a chain at the end. The tail was looped overhead with a pulley system that ran down and through the second loop at the cage’s opening. When Levi had darted forward, someone at the side had managed to fish it through the D-ring of the double billet leather belt around his middle. All it took was for them to yank the chain back and feed it on a hook on the outside for Levi’s head to be jerked around, nose-to-ribs.
There was not enough room to circle or turn, leaving him with the option to teeter between the bars in an awkward, bent position. The tendons of his neck strained with the contortion and any attempt to pull loose was met with unrelenting resistance. Unable to bite, unable to shift back to human, unable to see anything in front or the opposite side, he felt naked with defenselessness. And to make everything worse, Perry’s voice reached him with the brief orders of “Turn it on”, followed by the cage coming alive with a gentle hum. It took accidental contact with the bars to realize they were charged with electricity, causing him to yelp, then cover it with a disgruntled growl.
For some time after, nothing else happened. Everyone simply watched as Levi continued to test the strength of the surcingle and chain while avoiding contact with the bars.
“Umm,” a timid orderly trailed off uncomfortably when it dragged on. Levi couldn’t see her, but she was close. “What is the point of this? I’m sorry, but we never used this method at my other facility.”
“No?” Perry asked, neither interested nor concerned. “That’s surprising. Your old employment must’ve had docile intakes. Who else here isn’t familiar with this practice?”
The silence trailed on, but Levi barely spotted another orderly lift a hand, announcing they were likely newer hires. Fucking Hell. Not only was he being prodded and antagonized but simultaneously used as a learning demonstration.
He jerked his head again, but the chain only jangled, not budging. The burning of his neck was becoming less tolerable, bleeding into his shoulders as he wondered how long they would make him stay in that position.
Perry cared little as he explained to the orderlies. “When we get difficult cases that choose to act like animals rather than human, we treat them accordingly. Our priority is to limit endangering our staff, therefore, until they can cooperate properly, we set up scenarios to allow the wolvens to get the so-called piss and vinegar out of their system. What’s occurring now is he’s being forced to fight against himself instead of us. All he’ll succeed in doing is exhaust himself until he’s calm and responsive to our training with a more cooperative mindset.”
Levi’s protest was a warbling threat as he struggled to gain a few links of reprieve from the chain. When that continued to fail, he opted to make his disdain abundantly clear through the murderous glare at the few orderlies in view.
“But...” Perry continued after a few beats, “This one is obnoxiously stubborn. I can tell he’ll drag this out, just to spite us.”
“It’s only been a couple of minutes,” someone commented.
Another voice scoffed, “Yeah, but you can get a read on these things after a while. The gentler tempered beasts tend to settle quickly after being locked like that.”
Perry added, “And we don’t want to make this an all-day event either. We also can’t afford to spend unnecessary time on one wolven when we have other tasks to complete. Ramon,” his voice sharpened as he addressed a single member, “I want you to walk around the cage.”
“Can do.”
“Now pay attention,” Perry's tone projected again to the entire room, “Ramon is one of our experienced tech’s and has extensive exposure to difficult cases. Watch as he reads the wolven’s body language and adjusts his own accordingly. Remember, we want to push the wolven into uncomfortable situations but when they produce a favorable reaction, we let up as a reward.”
The distasteful scent of vampire grew stronger as Levi panted, fur bristling along his withers. His lips curled into a gummy snarl, hidden mostly by the angle and muzzle, but his eyes were titled up, enough to lock with the vampire orderly grinning cockily.
Ramon circled the cage, each lap shrinking the distance between them. The mocking aspect only stoked Levi’s agitation, and he bumped into the cage, absorbing a nasty shock that cut off his grumbles for a beat before resuming.
“Maybe we should video this,” someone out of sight suggested, mirth clear in the bubbly notes. “Document the before and after of a difficult case. I bet WMC would eat that up and throw more funding our way.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“We would need NDA’s signed before recording in here. To make sure no one posts on their social media. Next time, we’ll get that.”
It wasn’t possible for Levi to bristle anymore or else he would have.
Eventually, the olive-skinned vampire halted his laps, choosing to approach the cage. He stepped just to the bars and knelt at face level in a derisive gesture, taunting Levi’s inability to do absolutely nothing but glare and growl and try to ignore the pain crawling up his spine.
The vampire’s small, closed-lipped smile was friendly enough as he gave Levi his full attention. But the placidity frayed a little on the edges where condensation was seeping in. It was something in the tilt of the vampire’s head, the way his chin perched on a closed fist, the smile that grew angrier the longer Levi snarled and held unshakable eye-contact.
“Whatcha got against us, hm? We’re only here to help you, poor thing,” Ramon cooed patronizingly. “I think you could be sweet if you wanted to. You just don't want us to know that.”
Levi twisted his head, tilting his snout down to leverage free from the muzzle, but the strap didn’t budge from behind his ears. His eyes darted upwards to the vampire and was surprised to see the smile turn rather amused on his lips. But the eyes. Oh, the eyes were all wrong. They were hungry in a way that didn’t imply his appetite was for blood, but something far more sadistic. Like he was getting off on Levi’s situation.
He’s insane.
A sharp fang poked out from Ramon’s lip from a lecherous grin as he leaned close to the electric bars, tone-deaf to Levi’s threatening protests. The resolute belief that the cage could protect the man against Levi infuriated him, only made worse when Ramon whispered so only Levi could hear, “If you be good, I promise you’ll be a rewarded. Between you and me, I give all my well-behaved patients special... privileges.”
And then he slipped a long finger through the bars and teasingly flicked the tip of Levi’s ear.
Keep your filthy hands off me-!
The meager restraint Levi had been holding like a lifeline immediately snapped like a toothpick. He thrashed at the conceited threat, bumping into electric-charged bars that jolted him while his efforts to break the chain were renewed ten-fold.
Fuck these shitty people. Fuck everyone who shrugged off his threats and blatant refusal to play their games—constantly steamrolling him into contrived submission. Thinking they had a right to toy with his life because he was drugged or confined behind bars. It was nothing but false protection for these tyrants. Other people’s lives were meaningless to sadistic fucks like them--they weren’t different than Tybur. He wanted to kill them. To show everyone he was not to be played with like some piteous insect being nailed to a board.
He was a fucking omen.
With Ramon’s single touch, Levi’s walls were breeched, hemorrhaging his secrets. A wildness in his core took shape as reason was evicted from his skull. The air around his muzzle began to warp into a shimmering heat haze, fuzzing out the high-definition angles of the muzzle.
Ramon’s smile melted off his face like dripping wax as he stared at the contraption, refashioning the chrome alloy to a pale yellow, darkening to brass, then a hue of straw, until blending into orange. Fear and awe plastered over the vampire’s gaze that blinded him to Levi’s struggles, mesmerized by the metal heating on the wolven’s snout. In fact, the room had gone completely silent in Levi’s rage-fueled display, not seeing the teeth beyond the muzzle, nor the hyper fixation he burdened on the vampire mere feet away, watching every move Ramon made with a twitch of his eyes tracking each gesture.
Not so funny now, you fuck.
As if reading Levi's thoughts, a veil of terror draped over the vampire’s features, encouraging Levi to reach his prey before it could escape. He lurched his head forward with more force, causing the chain to rattle to a violent halt. But that didn’t deter him. He did it again, outraged by being forced to have his nose pointing at his ribs. The chains clanked in their slack then were snapped taunt. It took another jerk when the D-ring in the surcingle was warped into an oval, the double stitching of reinforced leather popped but didn’t snap as it did all it could to hold in place. Levi sensed that he was breaking down his restraints from the way Ramon’s eyes widened at his shoulders, and another orderly shouted in alarm to Perry. The next jerk of Levi’s head weakened the hold with the sound of an avalanche shaking free.
Almost there.
In that same heartbeat of a thought, the double doors slammed open in the corner of his eye as two people strode in at a brisk pace. A third was rushing to keep on their heels, fretting at them over how they weren’t authorized to be there, but neither paid the woman any mind. The blond man pressed forward, the tail of the dressy coat billowing behind his thighs and the shorter brunette vampire following at his side.
Levi eyes strained to keep them in his line of sight, but even so, he immediately identified the reaper by the homogeneous traits of that to a Roman statue. His face held a type of timelessness to it, brought into the present only by the shockingly modern and tasteful fashion. Despite being a few inches above average height, there was something about him that always held focus during their interactions. Made people in the room stand up taller, made them move. The reaper took up space without even trying.
What the fuck is Erwin doing here?
“Hey—Get them out of here! We’re in the middle of an exam!” Perry shouted, coming around the cage to confront them.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Norton—they were supposed to wait at the lobby but barged back here—” the employee stammered before Perry cut her off, addressing the reaper directly.
“If you don’t leave immediately, we’ll be forced to evict you from the premises—”
“Mr. Norton, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding,” Erwin enunciated sternly, standing his ground as he evaluated the room with blank stoicism. When his eyes connected with Levi’s he rivetted in place, a cloud of death emanating from somewhere beyond physical manifestation. Not breaking the stare, Erwin continued to address the fuming training lead. “The previous shelter failed to inform you that Levi is not your responsibility to handle... He’s mine.”
Notes:
Just a note: Levi has been highly traumatized and mistreated for a long time. I’m taking inspiration from ACWNR and Season 4 where we see he’s the angriest and focused on revenge, always keeping an eye on Erwin and Zeke. In this case, it’s Tybur. Just in case anyone was curious about the portrayal. He will return more and more to his usual demeanor later on. (Trying to do all the characters justice).
Anyway, did anyone suspect he’d be a Hellhound?? 😏
Thank you for reading the story and sticking with it this far! I appreciate all the support and hope everyone is doing well! About to board my plane, so until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 10: Antidotes to Solitude
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The rehabilitation facility was not unlike the shelter, yet the differences did hint to the intended purpose of each. While the shelter offered public space for potential owners, the training building only presented a small lobby with no more than six chairs against the wall for guests to check the progress of their wolven companions during lessons. Visiting hours and the like, apparently. What was another variation between the two facilities was that upon crossing the first set of doors, instead of holding bays, there were various rooms meant to occupy multiple individuals for classes.
Windows lined either side with glimpses of tables and desks in neat rows. In each one they passed, Erwin ran a cursory glance inside, doubting Levi would be within a learning room so soon, but refused not to check all the same. The next classroom had an instructor posted in front of a whiteboard pointing at four letter words to a group of docile wolvens. The section following that held various musical instruments, and the next empty room appeared to accommodate no more than three individuals at a time with a single bolted chair in the middle, flourished with leather straps.
For some reason, the small space stirred an ominous feeling, urging him to continue his trespassing as the receptionist, off to his left, prattled on with snippets of words reaching Erwin:
“—protocols are in place. I promise you that we’ll assist with your request, but you must wait in the lobby. You’ve no right to be back here.”
Erwin pushed on; the air still cooled despite the system’s heater trying to warm the enormous layout against the encroaching winter chill outside.
He has to be here, he thought again as another tendril of unease cracked through the lowest layer of his underbelly. He must be.
“Sir! I insist you listen to me! Or I will call security to remove yo—”
“Please, calm yourself,” Hange sounded tired. “This is an unusual situation, and we don’t have time to wait for someone to answer their phone.”
The woman huffed crossly, nearly raising her voice into a shout that echoed off the bland walls. “I told you—I would try to call him again in five minutes. He’s probably busy with a patient.”
Erwin passed another empty room tailored for treating an individual in a way that appeared closer to an inquisition than a learning environment. Something meant to extract information rather than teach. Before he could fully slip by, the unmistakable lilting presence from within stirred, sensing the reaper nearby. Then the whispers started, groaning and pleading for Erwin to listen and help them. Greedy for attention.
The dead. The souls that never fully moved on from the place of their last moments.
He could make out at least two distinct voices, but knew there had to be a couple more by the way they clambered over one another, muddying into indistinguishable wails. The fact that there had been deaths at the training annex was not a surprise, however the fact they hadn’t moved on suggested ill-treatment and poor preparation for the subject, causing them to cling to life in their final moments with fear or anger ripping part of their soul upon passing until they failed to enter the Netherworld.
It left Erwin’s tongue feeling like he swallowed sand, as if his own concerns for Levi were being confirmed.
Erwin’s pace began to flirt with a jog, soles of his shoes clacking against the eggshell-white speckled floor as his stride separated himself from the two. Hange did what she could to keep up while also keeping the haughty receptionist engaged enough to not make good on her promise to call security. Meanwhile, Erwin tried not to think too deeply about what could be happening to Levi at that moment.
If he bit or injured someone, it would make everything more challenging. There could even be a chance Erwin wouldn’t be able to get the man out of the building by any legal means. The cherry on top of everything that this case had put him through.
As he reached another set of doors at the back of the hall, a panicked shout reached them: “Sir—Fire! There’s fire!”
Erwin didn’t care for his hastiness. He barged through the doors amid cries of outrage from the receptionist and Hange following into the next corridor.
“I’m sorry,” Hange tried to soothe the appalled receptionist. “My friend really is wanting to find his wolven—”
“He can’t just do that!” she screeched causing Hange to grimace. “You Abnormals are breaking the law! This is an abuse of power!”
Hange turned away from her, entering through the threshold with Erwin with all patience dried up. “Well, excuse you. Can’t believe they let someone with your opinion work here with that insensible language.”
Erwin ignored their squabbling as he plunged into the nearest room where there was commotion emitting from within, heedless of an innocent orderly minding his own business with a mop bucket in the corridor. He was shocked when Erwin pushed past him to enter the room that lacked windows from the hall, the sudsy water sloshing from the disturbance, before he shuffled further away from the reaper.
Of all the rooms in that building, the one they entered seemed the most lifeless. Four walls, a set of double doors on the opposite side, a mezzanine on the left and a cage situated in the dead center. All around the middle fixture were individuals dressed in blue scrubs who were backing away or scrabbling from left to right to steal glimpses of the beast inside the enclosure.
“Hey—Get them out of here! We’re in the middle of an exam!” a man in a white smock shouted, coming around the cage to confront them while brandishing a clipboard like a whip.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Norton—” the receptionist pleaded, voice raising higher in tempo to a false innocence. A distinct change from the livid slur she threw around previously. “They were supposed to wait at the lobby but barged back here—”
“If you don’t leave immediately,” the supervisor directed his ire at Erwin, “we’ll be forced to evict you from the premises—”
“Mr. Norton, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding,” Erwin enunciated sternly, before pausing as an orderly moved out of the way, giving him a full view of the beast inside. The scene was not one he was prepared for, and it took him a moment too long to realize it was Levi after the shock wore off.
It was unquestionable, even when he’d only seen the man in his human form prior. Not only was the wolfish creature smaller in size with a pitch coat, but the heating muzzle that he seemed determined to melt off his face was an indisputable giveaway. Fortunately, it hadn’t reached high enough temperatures yet to cause lasting damage, though it was unclear if Levi would even experience burns from it. The unfortunate side of the situation, however, was that everyone present witnessed Levi’s unique ability which would only create more problems for Erwin.
How typical. One would assume he'd anticipate such circumstances by that point.
Still, Erwin maintained his unwavering composure, prepared to buckle in for what was surely about to be a strained debate. No matter what happened, he knew he would not be leaving the building without the hellhound.
“The previous shelter failed to inform you that Levi is not your responsibility to handle... He’s mine.”
Mr. Norton, or Perry by the nametag, straightened a little, holding himself chest-forward in a way that reminded Erwin of a pufferfish. The human equivalent to posturing.
“I don’t know what caused the supposed miscommunication, but this patient is pending adoption. Who are you?”
“Erwin Smith. I’m currently a consultant—”
“That name was never given to us. You’re not authorized to even be here as a potential adopter, it seems. Please leave or I’ll call the police.”
Erwin stared at him cooly as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Perry continued to stand his ground against him, but he was not as unfathomable as he wanted to portray. The human blinked rapidly against Erwin’s constant gaze and thumbed at his wedding band on his finger, spinning it around as a nervous tic.
“Mr. Hugh Conely at the Olympia Wolven Shelter will confirm that Levi is not meant to be here. I was supposed to pick him up today as I’ve already been approved for ownership.”
Perry’s face contorted as if he swallowed something distasteful. “That was not in the reports.”
“Please, call him yourself,” Erwin challenged frostily. “Either way, you have my wolven and I’ll be taking him back.”
“Just because you claim to have approval doesn’t mean this thing is fit to leave the building. There’re processes in place and, frankly, I have some severe concerns.”
That’s exactly what Erwin was afraid of.
“Tell me,” Perry continued, picking up steam as he took a daring step closer to Erwin. “Do you even have a training facility lined up to take the patient in?--If what you say is true, that is. Because many companies rarely have vacancies that don’t require a waiting period, and even fewer are fit to treat something so volatile.”
Erwin’s gaze constricted, the only sign he let slip of his frustrations. “Call Mr. Conley. I think it’d be in everyone’s best interest.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I’m merely wishing to put your skepticism to rest. I intend to employ a civil conversation and get what’s legally mine back.”
Every time he made a possessive statement, he couldn’t help but feel the need for mouthwash. All those superstitions linked to the taboo of owning a soul surged up, causing his stomach to squirm like a pool of eels.
“Fine. Ashley, make the call,” Perry ordered one of the employees in blue who disappeared out of the hallway momentarily.
Another orderly who was knelt by the cage, stood quickly during the distraction, shattering Levi’s silence into a garble of demonic growls. Erwin felt his skin prickle, marveling at the fact that he was witnessing a fabled hellhound for the first time. There weren’t a lot of firsts in his life the older he got, so each moment was something to be treasured, however this was an experience on a different spectrum--not only confirming the truth in lore, but seeing it in person. Too bad it was dampened by Levi’s contorted position and obvious distress.
Around the man's midsection was a thick cinch of leather that was studded with D-rings positioned throughout. The muzzle that began cooling in temperature had a welded link of chain at the end which looped through a ring to the outside of the cage with a specialty plastic coated hook. It was pulled taut to force Levi’s head to his ribs, unable to fight or challenge the bars that were snug on all sides. The faint hum of the room was picked up by Hange who snapped a wicked glare at Perry.
“Is that electrified?”
Perry was unperturbed. “It’s to prevent the patients from hurting themselves if they struggle.”
“Are you implying electrocuting them is painless, Mr. Norton?”
“I’m implying that it’s a safer alternative to them throwing themselves into the walls. It’s decreased injury to unruly patients by 92%.”
“Interesting,” Hange replied dryly. “I’d be remised if I didn’t ask to see proof of those statistics.”
“Hange,” Erwin warned, earning a frown as she shook her head and dropped it. They weren’t there for ethical questioning. Only Levi.
Ashley came back in shortly after, her face grim as she approached Perry to discuss the phone call quietly. It wasn’t whispered which meant Erwin and Hange could hear the exchange, but he speculated it was meant to avoid others in the room from being involved.
“Mr. Conley confirmed that Mr. Smith has been approved for ownership of the patient. He said it was a mistake on the shelter’s administrative end.”
Perry’s sour expression returned as he shifted to Erwin, eyes raking over him as if he could detect some falsity despite the corroborated story. Finally, he shook his head. “There’re concerns obviously. I can’t simply release the patient to you.”
“And why is that?” Erwin bristled.
“Because look at him!” He waved the clipboard at the cage. “Clearly there’s something wrong with his breeding. A wolven cannot heat steel like that—and more importantly, he shouldn’t be out in society with such a genetic discrepancy. He’s still a virile wolven that needs sterilization and let’s not forget that he’s aggressive with vampires!”
Hange crossed her arms. “What are you suggesting exactly?”
“That he stays here and gets the behavioral treatment required and perhaps determine the cause of his... heating ability. There may be a way to disassemble whatever organ is causing the anomaly. It’s obviously a result of his ill-breeding.”
Erwin observed Levi’s intense focus on the vampire orderly who slowly backed away, though he appeared far less fearful than Erwin anticipated when holding the hellhound’s hefty undivided attention. Almost cocky and sure of himself, which didn’t do anything to soothe Levi, apparently. Likewise, it had Erwin gritting his molars together in an unexpectedly possessive way, wanting to get the vampire out of the room completely.
“As you stated, Mr. Norton. It’s an anomaly and I doubt there’s a single policy in place for such a situation. When I agreed to the adoption stipulations, I was made aware that any damage caused by Levi is my responsibility until I place him into an approved training facility.”
“He’s in one now—”
“That I don’t know anything about,” Erwin retorted. “I prefer to do my research as most people in my position do to ensure a proper fit.”
The cognac hue of Perry’s irises had darkened to a dusky chestnut by the time Erwin met his gaze. Erwin could almost taste how his indifference rankled the employee, could see it in the way Perry’s mouth thinned, and his fingers clutched the clipboard harder.
“You reapers all pretend to be altruistic, but really you think yourselves invincible and all knowing... Fine. Suit yourself. But before we release him to you, we’re going to discuss this with Director Leigh.” When Erwin didn’t protest, Perry commanded to the crowd of orderlies, “Sedate the patient and put him in his holding bay. I’m taking the wraith to the Director’s office.”
Erwin squinted at the man’s insult but ignored it in favor of asserting his rather limited authority. “Levi does not need to be sedated. He’s been through enough.”
“That’s not up to you to decide,” Perry quipped back. “Until Director Leigh gives the final word, the patient is still under our care and will be treated as I see best.” He nodded at the workers to continue.
In the center of the room, two orderlies began preparing a pole syringe to inject Levi through the cage. The vampire that was the focus of Levi’s scorn returned the glare with a superior smirk, turning to assist with the pole.
“Stand down,” Erwin ordered Perry, shedding his semi-polite veneer. “I’m not authorizing any further treatment here.”
“Again. Not up to you.”
The vampire orderly picked up the now loaded pole and faced Levi. The sharp grin felt threatening, and Levi must’ve agreed because his struggles resumed, jerking his head in frenzied attempt to get free of the muzzle, not even caring if he hurt himself in the process. It twisted Erwin’s gut to see the level of desperation flip like a switch, and a foreign sense of dread dribbled to those writhing eels. If he didn’t get control of the situation, Levi would injure himself or worse—snap his own neck with it tied back like that.
“Hange—”
“Got it.”
She rushed to the cage, blocking the vampire who was approaching with the pole.
“Don’t even try it,” she warned, ignoring Levi’s unearthly bellows behind her.
“Get out of the way,” the orderly replied, smile slipping away into annoyance from the interruption. “Don’t you want him to calm down?”
“He was calm before you got involved.”
Perry snapped his glare at Erwin, “Get your companion, Mr. Smith! You’re endangering my staff!”
“We’re protecting Levi from further mistreatment.”
“You’re causing more harm!”
Unbeknownst to them, the second vampire orderly took it upon themselves to fix another syringe, having circled to Levi’s vulnerable blind side in hopes of reaching in and sedating him by hand. Something must have alerted Levi, some ingrained instinct or smell, because he flung himself back into the bars, not even showing he registered the electricity. The second orderly startled away, scarcely missing his hand from being pinned and broken in the cage.
The drastic commotion drew everyone’s attention as Hange darted to the other side to stop the sly attacker from another attempt. Meanwhile Erwin plunged toward the vampire with the pole, summoning his scythe after he shoved past Perry. Just as the vampire was prepared to jam the syringe through the bars, Erwin intercepted, deflecting the pole by swinging his staff upwards.
The vampire stumbled back before getting his balance over his feet, then leveled the needle at Erwin while thrusting forward as if a spear. Before it could find home in the reaper, Erwin spun around, the tail of his jacket twirling with the movement, and scooped the vampire’s feet out from under him with his scythe. The man hit the ground with a gasp of air leaving his lungs, then tried to bring his pole around to defend himself.
But the reaper anticipated it. In answer to the defensive move, Erwin struck out with his Oxfords, the toe catching on the orderly’s hand, crunching knuckles and causing the pole to fly out of his grip. They watched the arc of its flight until it clambered on the floor near the wall with a sense of finality. The vampire tried to roll towards it, but the shoe slammed into his chest, pinning him to the ground. When his eyes jerked up to Erwin, he no doubt saw the reaper hovering the blade of his scythe inches from his chin, ready to eliminate any further struggles before they could be carried out.
The room had fallen silent with shuddering expectation. All eyes upon Erwin, Hange, and Levi in the center, and everyone seeing its course play out. The inevitability that Erwin would not just sit back and be compliant with their rules, nor respect their professional authority clearly unexpected.
Erwin took advantage of the pause to move his glare away from the orderly to Levi behind him, who was no longer growling. Instead, his eyes met Erwin’s then dropped to the vampire and back again, assessing and measuring the greatest threat to him, but remained quiet just the same. From the new proximity, Erwin was able to return the observation, taking in the exaggerated traits that made Levi unique.
While Loup-garous resembled the size of the extinct dire wolf with very similar attributes of their animal counterparts, Levi’s appearance was a dichotomy between a black shepherd and something otherworldly. The nails that extended from the slightly elongated paws were pointed and curved, a grim reminder to the eviscerated lycanthrope pulled from the fighting ring. There was no denying they were lethal weaponry.
Any further meaningful assessment Erwin wanted to make was interrupted as the door at the back of the room swung open and the receptionist from before hurried after a man dressed in a pinstripe suit. Director Leigh, if Erwin hazarded a guess. And he looked downright livid.
Rightfully so.
Coming to a stop, the man’s glower pinned Erwin in place like a dart, then to Hange who had the second orderly apprehended on the ground, then landing on Perry. He took a lung expanding breath, all effort to keep his voice level despite it teetering on the edge of a shout.
“I want an explanation of what’s going on. Right. Now.”
***
Ten minutes later, upon Erwin making it clear that he would not be moved on his stance regarding Levi’s sedation, the Director authorized the man to be returned to his holding room until they could get to the bottom of the disturbance, trespassing, and—well, assault.
Hange and Erwin were pointed to the supervisor’s office while Perry ensured that Levi’s muzzle and surcingle was removed while not at the expense of his staff. If only he could show that level of consideration to his ‘patients’ Erwin suspected they wouldn’t currently be in that predicament.
By the time Perry joined them in the director’s office, Erwin had already explained their story which required yet another phone call to Hugh. After the facilitator repeated the explanation that it was the shelter’s oversight, the Director hung up the phone with a sigh and tempered his features to something a little more neutral.
Erwin had to give credit where credit was due; even after Perry reported Levi’s unearthly display, Leigh continued to appear impartial. At least on the outside. For all Erwin knew, it was a ruse for the sake of not stirring trouble that could hinder their facilities’ ratings. If it ever got out to the public.
“The patient is not fit to go home and wait for enrollment to a different obedience school. I stand by what I said: It’s best to do it here,” Perry protested.
Erwin fixed a disapproving glower on the training lead. “From what I’ve witnessed of your procedures, I’m not entirely comfortable with allowing him to stay. I’d prefer to use the time I’m legally allotted to pick a location that's best suited for our needs.”
Perry was prepared to pivot his point, using Erwin’s concern against him. “There will be similar initial exams no matter where you enroll your wolven at. They aren’t meant to be gentle, Mr. Smith. They’re designed to identify triggers that could make the wolven unsafe so that they can be addressed in the curriculum. We’ve already got a good grasp of the level of care he’s needing. Why take him away just to drag him to a new location and start later? All that’s accomplishing is stressing him further and delaying his training... It’s better to train him now rather than allow those poor habits to be reinforced while awaiting enrollment--or worse. He makes a fatal mistake with the next vampire pizza delivery driver.”
It was a valid attempt to use compassion against the client, but Erwin wasn’t swayed by the smarmy sales pitch.
“I’ve done enough research to know that the training annexes which the shelters send their wolvens to apply methods tailored for generic masses rather than the individual. Given your concerns, as well as my intentions,” Erwin, too, was not above spinning the narrative back on Perry, “I think I’d feel comfortable with a private institute that’s open to customized plans.”
Leigh interjected before Perry could spout off another emotionally driven response, fingers drumming over the tabletop. “Mr. Smith. From what Mr. Norton has described, your wolven has potential to be a danger to innocent civilians. I can overrule your legal rights as a result. That’s what this all comes down to.”
Erwin narrowed his eyes at the director. “In what capacity can you make that judgment? Levi was pulled from GSIS holding, brought here without any explanation, and forced into his wolven form—per your training lead. Muzzled. Chained. And confined inside an electrified cage. How many wolvens had that same treatment and were complacent and docile throughout the entire event?”
The Director remained silent, neutral mask slipping into contempt at the brazen challenge. He laced his hands over the desk as he commenced with a stare down with the reaper.
Clearing her throat, Hange treaded into the discussion, voice composed and unaffected by the pissing match taking place.
“Aside from Levi’s fronting and verbal protests, no one has been hurt since he’s been in GSIS custody. As it happens, Erwin was the one who headed the initiative for the case and had the most interactions with Levi, which led to him choosing to adopt him once the wolven was cleared.”
Not exactly an honest statement, Erwin mused as he reflected on Jean and his still blistered palm.
Leigh shook his head, as if removing her explanation from his ears. “The wolven has been in controlled environments since being apprehended from the fighting ring. Taking him home with you negates all of that. Unless Mr. Smith has steel facilities that no one else is aware of in his home, I don’t see this alleviating the threat.”
Erwin didn’t care for the way the man made it sound as if he’d already scoped out Erwin’s house, even if his statement is an umbrella point. The odds of the dwelling not being set up for a hazardous wolven was a safe guess to make.
“Levi has not acted in a way towards me to think he required one,” he retorted.
The director laughed; a conceited, sand-papery thing. “You can’t be that daft. You can’t expect the wolven to just acclimate smoothly by taking him to your house without prior obedience training. Just because he may have been reserved in a cell does not mean he won’t be a menace loose in your house.”
Erwin’s glare hardened. “I’m failing to see where it’s your concern what happens to my home. That’s what insurance is for.”
The more he argued with these employees, the more Erwin secretly loathed the character he was portraying. But he had to remind himself that he was doing it for Levi’s sake. That he would figure out the legalities and fine details after Levi was safely away from other organizations trying to keep their hands on him. Erwin could throw up his stale coffee later.
Thankfully, Hange was there to assist, pulling up the policy from her phone and reading an excerpt aloud to the room.
“According to the legalities of the Wolven Penal Code § 220 (4)) regarding dangerous wolvens, it states that:
‘... unless the wolven has acted with implied malice, knowingly or recklessly, with intent to commit serious bodily injury or death, there is no justification to seize custody of the wolven from the adopted owners. Only if intent to commit seriously bodily injury has occurred, WMC will then open an investigation into the reported neglect and in some cases may secure alternative placement or terminate ownership of the wolven.’”
She met Leigh’s petulant glare and clenched jaw muscles over the rims of her glasses. “None of those variables have occurred, so you have no grounds to overrule Erwin’s rights.”
Perry was seething in the corner of the desk, the only one standing as his grip turned white on the clipboard. “Did you not see the maliciousness in the cage?!”
Erwin quipped, “I saw someone who was provoked, stressed, and being mocked by a vampire whom you knew were active triggers to Levi. You cannot fault him for the reaction that you had a hand in producing.”
Perry fumed and it became abundantly clear very quickly that it was never about concerns for Levi or community safety. The unspoken elephant in the room loomed over them as a suffocating phantom that each person mutually agreed to pretend didn’t exist. Instead, they continued dancing around the edges, not daring to touch it, fearing that doing so would bring it into subsistence. Because once the question of what Levi was became verbalized, the democratic debate over policy and rights would turn into personal and selfish intentions—and nothing peaceful ever came from such unwavering venal cornerstones.
Finally, the director relented, sinking into his chair as if detaching himself from the conversation. “Very well. I can only hope you’re prepared to handle your wolven until enrollment, Mr. Smith. It’d be a shame for a creature of his potential to be recalled because of irresponsible ownership.”
Erwin wanted to scoff at the change of tone from the employer. First, Levi was a genetic mistake that needed disassembling to fit the ideal wolven cutout. Now, he had potential. Instead, he held his tongue, focusing on the fact he won his battle and would be able to finally take Levi home. But the relief never came, because as he made eye-contact with Hange, he realized a new dilemma.
They only had one car. And Hange was a vampire.
The odds of Levi playing nice and not inflicting ‘serious bodily injury or death’ seemed like a Mt. Everest of a task. All while under the plotting, watchful eye of the director--because the man was not even trying to hide it. He would likely call up his lawyers to find a loophole to apprehend Levi in the future. Thankfully, as Erwin had reviewed the same regulation Hange had, he was confident the only way the director would get his desired custody was if Levi failed to keep his composure around Hange.
The uneasy look in Hange’s gaze showed his concerns were very much validated
***
Somehow, against all odds, they managed to get Erwin time alone to calm Levi down while Hange asked for a tour of the training annex. Director Leigh had almost hammered out his candid denial until Hange innocently added:
“Incase Erwin decides to go with this facility for Levi’s obedience. Once he gets the wolven home, he may determine a direct approach at training is a better option.”
While the director was too clever to be fooled by Hange’s ploy to keep them distracted, he would’ve been downright negligent to turn the vampire down. Because, frankly, denying the request would ensure they wouldn’t return willingly. But if he managed to salvage their terrible first impression just a smidge, then there was a thin possibility for Erwin to reconsider. A splinter of a chance in a grand forest, but a chance, nonetheless. And Director Leigh was nothing but eager to keep Levi in his facility.
He would play nice.
So, Erwin was temporarily left alone in front of the reinforced plexiglass wall that separated him from Levi, who was still in his canine form. He was undoubtably agitated and prowling in the empty room while his vocal cords conducted an unearthly symphony rumble with the second string as a hiss, once again reminding Erwin of the reptilian traits. Levi’s distrust was razor sharp on both sides, just as dangerous to himself as everyone else. It would be his undoing if left unchecked, Erwin was sure of it.
He moved in the cell fluid like oil over water, muscles rippling in each movement, fur undulating in every step. Upon noticing Erwin, he cut off his grumpy protests and drew himself to a halt, regarding the reaper with an enraged gaze. Fleetingly, Erwin wondered if Levi thought he was responsible for being taken here. The lack of outward aggression suggested it wasn’t the case, and he hoped it wasn’t a wrong assumption.
No longer rushed or combatting orderlies, Erwin openly observed Levi’s canine shape. The way his coat was black as polished obsidian stone, the cold slivers of storm clouds in his eyes turned tangerine like the harvest moon. His head was hunched, tail low in almost a laxed position and hackles deflated; caution interwoven in every bit of his stance. As Erwin noted previously, Levi didn’t look quite like a wolven or wolf. There was something... mythical about him. Cryptid. Ancient like the beasts of Godly lore. The fur looked thick around his neck and chest like the fashionable ruffles of the Victorian era, while the rest was relatively sleek and laid close to his body.
The most pronounced features were the ears which were longer than a normal wolven and ended in a sharp point, almost mistaken for draconic horns when angled back against his head. And the paws were just as unique. Elongated canine toes with sharp talons.
He was ethereal and exquisite. An image that would strike terror in anyone stumbling across his path in the pitch of night.
An omen of death.
“Hello, Levi... We don’t have a lot of time, and I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances,” he started politely, feeling for once unsure of himself. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious, fearing one wrong phrase would send the little progress between them tumbling. It was a risk, but he decided blunt honesty was the best option. “You’ve found yourself in a bad situation here. I’m sure you’ve come to that conclusion already, but what you do next will dictate what happens afterwards.”
Levi’s lip curled, wrinkles bunching over the top of his muzzle. Mistaking Erwin’s preface for a threat.
A slight misstep, it seemed. One pace forward, two back. But Erwin was short on options and retracting his direct approach didn’t promise much reward. So, he pushed on. Slow and steady.
“A lot of people want you, and I don’t imagine their intentions are good. But I can tell you that putting you in the system—staying in places like this—will be your future. I’m offering an alternative.” He paused, letting the words settle between them, giving Levi something to chew on. As he hoped, Levi stopped snarling in favor of listening to what he had to say. “I can get you out of here. You can come with me right now, and I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to prevent you from returning here.”
Levi stared at him, waiting for him to continue as if sensing the catch coming. Smart man.
A wry quirk of Erwin’s lips showed Levi was correct in his assumption.
“But as you saw, I have my friend with me, and you know she’s a vampire. While I understand I have no right to ask you to trust me, I do want to remind you that Hange protected you from being sedated when you couldn’t defend yourself. Neither of us want you to stay here and we’ll take you someplace safe, but you have to do what we say. You cannot hurt anyone. If you do, then you’ll have to stay here, and things will get a lot worse.”
Possibly euthanized went unsaid. Erwin didn’t need to elaborate as it was a well-known reality in their world. And Levi had faced death for who knew how long. It must’ve been a constant opponent he always had to stay ahead of. Bringing it up now wouldn’t change anything.
“I won’t make you do anything against your will,” Erwin continued when Levi remained statuesque, not revealing his opinion on the situation. It unnerved Erwin. Made doubt germinate under his skin, wondering if Levi would refuse to go with him. All that work, just to end with nothing to show for it.
But what could Erwin do? Forcing Levi would have catastrophic outcomes. It would put Hange in danger along with himself and others. The decision truly did rest with Levi.
“It has to be your choice,” he reiterated with all the sincerity he could muster. “Those are the stipulations. If you can’t resist the urge to attack, I won’t put my friend in harm’s way. Only you can keep yourself in control. No one else. You are your own being, Levi.”
The quiet that bled between them was thick and heavy. Like the silence in a forest after the first real snowfall. Everything hushed. He hated how tense he was as he waited, knowing he had nothing else to offer Levi for it to work. Being powerless was not something he voluntarily positioned himself in to experience, always picking the dominant role to sway variables in his favor.
But considering that was likely how Levi felt all the time, Erwin dammed his complaining against the current and waited.
And then Levi granted a nod—an unmistakable truce—causing Erwin to oscillate between excitement and foreboding trepidation.
***
“You are your own being, Levi.”
Either the reaper was a sly, manipulative asshole, or he was a man with a savior complex. Perhaps, even both. Not that it mattered. Not when his little speech swayed Levi’s internalized rule of keeping distance, causing him to reconsider.
A choice he hoped he wouldn’t come to regret.
Levi wanted to scoff. It wasn’t like his options were plentiful. Stay and be pestered and prodded, either being killed or forced into another stranger’s home, or stay long enough until Tybur’s filthy underlings broke in to get Levi. Or the third option: take his chances by going with the reaper. The same reaper who had been hovering around Levi no matter where he was taken to the last few days. Who spoke to him with regard, always polite even after the fiasco by the van. And gave him food, blankets, and a book. Who stood between him and the orderly that took sadistic delight in tormenting people like Levi.
It wasn’t gratitude Levi felt. Gratitude was an emotion that led to betrayal and disappointment. A sister to Trickery. And it certainly wasn’t trust. Levi didn’t know if he had any left to give, not to mention he was suspicious of what made the reaper so invested in him.
The good-mannered, put-together façade could be a suit he wore for the outside world to disguise the devil within. A similar mimicry of upper-class veneer that Tybur liked to adorn. Used to gloss over his proclivities for liquidating lives that no one would miss, and taunting the hellhound in his oubliette during dinner parties.
So, if Levi was going to put a name on it, he’d say it was a gamble. The lesser of the evils. Besides, if Erwin turned out to have ulterior motives like Tybur, well... at least that was something Levi was familiar with. Something he knew how to survive. Worst case scenario, he would simply put Erwin’s name right below Tybur’s on his list for retribution.
So, Levi agreed.
He’d go along with Erwin, leave this shithole behind and try not to kill his companion. A promise that he was glad he wasn’t capable of verbalizing aloud because, truthfully, he knew how massive an ask that was for him. It was a promise that he didn’t know he could keep.
But he would have to try. His survival depended on it.
Annoyingly, it took more convincing from Erwin to get the staff to allow Levi to walk out as he was. The debate went back and forth, between forcing Levi to switch to his human figure or being fixed with a combination of a leash, collar, and muzzle.
Levi refused to shift when they demanded him from beyond the plexiglass. He was comfortable defending himself with teeth and claws, which was reinforced when someone suggested the injection to compel the change. Levi didn’t hesitate to display his displeasure with bared incisors, muscles still aching from the abusive effects prior. More surprisingly, Erwin glared at the orderly with an uncompromising “Absolutely not,” which begrudgingly soothed Levi to hear.
At least someone saw sense.
Regrettably, when the staff continued to repeat their safety concerns, coupling it with exaggerated scenarios just shy of gore and brimstone, Erwin’s stance began to waver when faced with the alternative: the degrading leash and muzzle.
It wasn’t the worst option for Levi. And he knew he was making it difficult on himself and Erwin by refusing to turn human, but that was too fucking bad. If he wasn’t going to have a barrier between him and the attendants, he wasn’t going to shift to his vulnerable form.
As the orderly dangled the muzzle in the air, Levi tried to convey his intentions to the reaper, grumbling at the device and backing away, then shooting a quiet look to Erwin and giving the slightest, barest shake of his lowered tail.
Don’t put that on me. I won’t cause problems.
Somehow, the gesture worked. Or enough to get Erwin to cash out his own gamble on Levi. It was risky, no doubt about it. Levi could cause whatever the reaper’s plans were to go up in Hellfire if he tried to escape or attacked someone on the way out. He suspected Erwin knew the odds of it rebounding were high, but the man still argued for Levi’s sake. Continued to advocate when he knew he didn’t owe it to Levi and vice versa. Then, against all odds, Erwin got his wish and there was a ceasefire.
Perry, pissed off and no longer wanting to deal with them, unlocked the door, allowing Levi to tread warily into the hall. Erwin waited heedfully for him to approach with the unspoken ‘stay close’ command conveying through his staunched gaze. The overwrought shoulders that were squared in place was enough for Levi to know he was being offered every ounce of available faith from the reaper and then some.
He didn’t need to worry. Levi knew his best odds of survival meant staying with Erwin for now. He’d play along.
The walk out of the building was stifling in every manner. The corridors were narrow, and they had to go all the way to the front of the building where Erwin’s vehicle was parked. The orderlies that escorted them along were thankfully human. Levi half expected Perry to keep a vampire or two in the hall, testing Levi’s rather non-existent control. Perhaps, the man realized how stupid of a risk it was to willfully endanger his staff and thought better of it. But not seeing them did nothing to extinguish the urgency burning in Levi’s legs.
He stayed close to Erwin, though not near enough to touch. The reaper walked tall with picturesque posture while Levi prowled beside him, pausing as the hall ended at a set of doors stitching one section of the annex to the next. Erwin pushed the security bar to the fixture, propping a hand high as he leaned to the side to allow Levi to pass through first. He could feel his fur lift when he went by, ears swiveling to hear anyone behind him if they made any sudden moves while his eyes scanned potential threats in the new hallway.
Eventually, Erwin guided them through a lobby with his pace picking up, as if trying to silently urge Levi along while Perry and two others stuck close. Watching and waiting for the tension to finally snap. He got the distinct feeling of sharks, smelling blood nearby the closer Levi got to the inevitability of crossing the vampire’s path once more.
“Please remember the rules,” Erwin murmured low enough for just Levi to hear as he stalked beneath his arm and into the vibrant sunlight of the entrance.
He couldn’t help but squint at the austere brightness, trying to blink and adjust to the whitewashed scenery of the parking lot. A hand brushed his shoulder, startling Levi who growled as Erwin walked down the first step.
“Sorry,” he belatedly apologized, taking a half step away and sending a wary glance from Levi to Perry. The training lead hovered in the threshold of the front glass doors, a syringe resting on his clipboard. “The car’s over here.”
Levi reluctantly cut off his growling, waiting for Erwin to get two steps ahead before following. He could feel eyes magnetized on his every move, waiting for him to slip up. His heart thumped harder against his ribcage as Erwin’s path straightened into the single direction of a black SUV. It didn’t escape Levi’s notice that the car would lack the armored walls as the previous van was fashioned with. One less layer of protection to keep Levi’s impulse in check. Each step instantly became harder to take, feeling like he was trudging through quicksand while his breathing labored.
The chilly air helped cool him down, yet the sunrays seemed to heat his coat. It was the second time he’d been outside however the moment was lost on him, always looking forward to the next threat. Levi sucked in the briny moisture from some water source nearby, hoping the salt would crystallize in his muzzle like stalagmites, ready to barricade against the alarming reek of vampire. In the distant recesses of his mind, Levi could faintly make out the voice whispering to escape now. Use the moment of freedom to get as far away as possible. Yet his paws continued following Erwin, all the way to the rear of the car where the reaper opened the hatch.
He faced Levi and took a single step away to not intrude on his personal space. “Whenever you’re ready... Please remember my conditions, Levi.”
Don’t hurt his friend. Vampire or not, she helped you.
Just as Levi turned his gaze to observe the inside of the vehicle, the triggering scent reached him, shoving his apprehension out as swampy, hot fury rose up. He saw red, felt his throat compressed with a growl on the fringes of being vocalized as he stared dead at the back of the vampire, sitting frozen in the passenger seat. He could feel his hackles spike as he waited for her to turn and look at him. To make any move that would pull the trigger of the spring-loaded bolt his body had become.
He could smell the sourness of her sweat. Fear always carried an ammonia-like musk to it. The combination of it with that of the copper and floral notes of a vampire was a strange concoction, one that helped keep the growl lodged in his throat and his body in place.
“Levi.” Erwin warned above him.
He tried to look away from Hange, but it felt as if he was tethered in place. Unable to move as he warred with himself between getting in the vehicle or lunging at the back of her neck. The upholstery headrest was a pitiful barrier.
She knew he was staring at her. There was no telling what screeching tune her instincts were singing regarding the predator at her back. But she continued to look ahead and wait. Pretending death wasn’t two rows back with aching teeth and panting lungs.
“Levi.”
The sharp demand, two syllables strangled with authority shattered his unblinking concentration. Levi snapped his head to the reaper who pinned him with a smoldering glare of his own, shaking his prior tunnel-vision loose until Levi realized there was a bigger threat beside him. The hand that had summoned the imposing scythe in the annex was open with branched fingers at Erwin’s side and Levi understood.
The vampire’s life would not be gambled on further than in that moment if Levi couldn’t keep his shit together.
Part of Levi wished Erwin would call forth his blade and put Levi down. It’d be a kinder act than what he deserved. But no. He couldn’t tempt the reaper into acting out. He had a promise to carry out before he ever moved onto the Netherworld, and he’d be damned if he failed.
She’s not the enemy. Get your fucking head on straight, Ackerman. You’re more than this.
Or, at least, he had to believe he was. Just long enough to get through this.
So, after a deep inhale of the salty air, he scaled into the back of the SUV with his front legs hauling him up, joints moving in ways he knew wolvens’ did not. He recalled his closest companions once teasing that he looked like a lizard navigating a rocky terrace. Unnerving, but cute, had been the phrase she used a lifetime prior. So, so long ago.
He shoved away the pang that tagged along with the recollection, focusing on tucking his tail close so the hatch could shut, leaving him alone in the cramp space with the vampire. Still, Hange didn’t move or speak, refusing to even risk eye contact as if knowing it would sign her own death sentence.
From Levi’s peripheral, he could see Erwin jogging now to the driver’s side, not even caring if he shed his nonchalance, so long as he was in the car before Levi could snap. He expected to feel offended by the implication, but the exercise was a cold reality check of how frail his own grasp of control truly had whittled down to. It was taking everything in him not to lose it and bolt.
As the door swung open, Erwin paused, sending one last glance to Perry at the front of the building before sliding in. The vehicle was already running, courtesy of Hange, and after a glance in the rearview, meeting Levi’s gaze, he pulled them out of the parking lot.
***
It was the longest 20 minutes of his life.
Well, that was an exaggeration. He could think of many situations where time seemed to cruelly stop for him, stretching out the seconds so Levi could savor the grueling agony as fibers were frayed string by string. A pale hand holding the knife to the twisting rope spitting thread just to make the trauma hook a little deeper as each drop of blood hit the floor.
Compared to those nightmares and oily reality, the drive was a fucking cakewalk. Even if Levi was exhausted and stiff by the time Erwin pulled the SUV in front of a bayside home to let Hange out.
His ears remained rigid and upright, listening as she murmured quietly to Erwin to call as soon as he was home safe and let her know if he needed anything. The meaning between the lines was deafening without needing to be uttered, revolving around Levi and the danger he posed. Erwin promised he would and said his goodbyes. She kept her movements slow as she exited the car and crossed the bumper, sparing a curious glance through the windshield at Levi before shamelessly smiling.
It caught him off-guard that the woman would smile at him--and do so without any lingering hard feelings. Then again, she did seem oddly bubbly and unhinged when he saw her at the shelter, despite his ambush. It was probably a sign of insanity. Instable minds weren’t uncommon with Supras after living for so long and experiencing so much. The squishy grey matter could only take so much before it snapped. Perhaps, those were symptoms of an early onset for the vampire. Or she was naturally a lunatic.
Something to keep in mind if he ever encountered her again.
Erwin waited until she was inside before he shifted the car in drive and pulled away, but not before shooting his eyes to the rearview, capturing Levi’s attention. A moment passed, each staring, making their own observations behind their individual veils, but not saying a word. Erwin was the first to look away, making a poor attempt to hide his amusement by trying to smother a smirk.
Confused, Levi struggled to determine what was so funny, looking into the mirror once more to see for himself. He was still pressed against the hatch, having refused to get any closer to the front seats. A rear seatbelt for the middle row dangled near his head and tapped against the window. He had enough room to lay down, but chose to keep a weather eye on the other occupants, still not knowing what exactly he agreed to. So, really, Levi wasn’t sure what was suddenly funny to the reaper. Not until he saw the way his ears were situated.
In his effort to not miss any exchange between Erwin and Hange, his ears were standing up with the tips flattened by the ceiling, smooshing the sharp tuffs to the side like a lazy-eared bunny. It dampened his image, no doubt, causing him to scowl at the back of Erwin’s seat as he lowered his head to avoid touching the roof.
Indignity aside, with the vampire’s absence, Levi managed to breathe easier in the car. The stiffness subsided a little more as the vehicle ate up miles, pushing them away from the thick traffic of the freeways into rural towns.
“You’ll be staying with me for the time being,” Erwin spoke after what seemed to be another half hour. “There’s a lot we need to discuss, but that can wait. I’d like to get you settled and comfortable before we get into those matters. You’ve been through a lot.”
Levi glared at the mirror, catching Erwin’s eyes for a brief time before they were redirected to the road.
‘Settled and comfortable’ seemed innocent wording enough, but Levi refused to be disarmed so easily. Did Erwin think he was a gullible fool? The reaper wanted something, and until Levi knew what that was, he certainly wouldn’t find himself comfortable.
Regardless, Levi knew not to underestimate the reaper. He was a cunning man; had some code he stood by as was evident in the way he confronted and impeded the many strangers that Levi interacted with. While playing nice by pretending Levi’s comfort was important may seem amateur, it was an effective gateway into more complex conditioning methods. Tricks and practices that Levi may or may not be able to recognize and counter.
He wasn’t immune. But he wasn’t an idiot either.
Only time would tell what was in store for Levi and what role Erwin would play in that.
Notes:
That wraps up Arc 1. The next Arc focuses on Levi and Erwin as well as Levi's past. That is where some heavy trauma topics will be explored so I'll do my best to update tags accordingly as well and TW in the chapters.
Thank you so much for reading, submitting Kudo's, and commenting! It means so much, especially with how I know the plot is very slow. So, I appreciate it very much!!! Until next time, stay safe! 🩶🖤
Chapter 11: Whipgraft Delusion
Notes:
TW: A peak behind the veil of some implied abuse when held captive, such as non-consensual/bordering eating disorder. Just implications, nothing detailed but felt it important to mention.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Arc II
--
Chapter 11
Whipgraft Delusion
***
The rectangular rearview framed the hellhound, doing little in way of showing the road behind them. That was a purposeful (albeit not altogether subtle) adjustment Erwin had made halfway home, stealing regular glimpses throughout. Occasionally, he’d catch Levi already staring at him; others, like that moment, half-propped on the window ledge with his chin, gazing at the passing landscape while one eye lingered on the driver’s seat. Always vigilant.
At least he wasn’t upright and rigid, having descended into a half sitting, half laying down position. Erwin had hoped Levi would settle and go to sleep after Hange left, but that was wishful thinking so soon into their new circumstances. Despite cooperating with Erwin, there was no precedence for navigating the nugget of trust between them.
As he eased off the pedal, Erwin steered into a driveway that cut through the trees; easy to miss, had it not been for the lonely mile marker with the reflector. Bits of gravel pinged the tire wells, the chassis swaying back and forth as it switched from smooth tarmac to the private lane. Weeds and grass blemished the center of the grey path, while the thick boughs overhead acted like a ceremonial arch of sabers welcoming them home.
Sensing they were closing in to their destination, Levi had perked up, sitting fully with his head swiveling between the windows. He didn’t meet Erwin’s gaze, eventually staring through the windscreen as the easement led them back through the acres. Further into the drive, the last curve around thriving huckleberry shrubs gave way to a cabin tucked in a pocket between the trees. The sharp angled, metal roof of the modern A-frame blended with the encroaching shadows as the sun dipped toward the horizon, causing the smooth cedar surface to almost glow with the porch lamp on. The inside was dark with only the remaining day’s light reflecting off the many windowpanes of the front, and a stone chimney protruded from the pyramid-like structure.
Parked to the left of the porch, was Erwin’s 1966 Ford truck with the hood and cowl painted in an off-white while the body was glossy, powder blue; all original from the day he bought it aside from minor repairs. Regularly, Mike would tease him with the contrasting image between the truck and his suits, and Erwin would argue an expensive sedan was not exactly ideal for gravel forest roads. It was commonly followed by Mike suggesting that Erwin needed to move, but that defeated the purpose of being secluded in the first place. Less voices of the dead to tug his ear for his attention away from the city.
But it wasn’t a perfect solution. The downside was, even though he lived in virtual isolation, with no neighbors on either side of him for a quarter mile at least, Erwin was never truly alone. Not as he wished to be. The dead were everywhere, even in the foothills of mountain giants where old logging and mining towns once stood. And the voices were demanding. Hungry for someone to listen, to notice. On his good days, Erwin could tune them out. He could mute the bleating pleas, and some days life was quiet.
Then, on his bad days, it was as if the voices surged. Tapping at his windows, begging for respite, for the reaper to help them move on. Swarming like cicadas amongst the trees with their chittering. Despite hearing the residue of death at the training annex, he was thankful no souls had attached themselves to them, hitching a ride to his home.
Perhaps Levi intimidated even ghosts. There was a thought.
Erwin parked beside the truck, turning off the ignition and wordlessly getting out. He rounded the back of the SUV, opening the hatch to find Levi had backed into the rear seat baring his incisors. The reaper only blinked, appraising Levi’s reaction until settling on the reason being the lack of proximity. Despite the closeness they shared when leaving the annex, it appeared that when other dangers were not nearby, Levi turned his misgivings onto Erwin.
Always looking for an enemy and creating one when no others were around.
It was an unnerving revelation, causing Erwin to wonder if he overestimated his abilities to handle the hellhound. Leaving his house that morning, there was no way he anticipated coming home with another person, let alone one as wild and angry as Levi. Maybe he made a mistake....
Erwin shoved the festering doubt away. He’d already made his decision to pursue Levi and, while the plan may not have originally included ‘adopting’, he needed to do right by them both by putting effort into making it work.
Time to reap what you sow.
Oh, if only Nanaba could hear that pun.
Taking a step to the side to allow space, Erwin offered a gentle smile. “Welcome to my home, Levi. If you’re worried about strangers,” likely more concerned with the reaper in that moment, “my neighbors aren’t anywhere close by. We won’t be disturbed here.”
There was a delay before Levi responded, tucking his canines behind his lips before warily jumping out of the vehicle. He remained angled in a way that kept Erwin in his peripheral with one ear canted his direction. The other swiveled as he drank in the new environment.
Mature spruce and cedar trees enclosed the massive clearing they were in, the few perennial songbirds flittering between branches. A gentle mountain breeze ruffled the canopy as dried hardwood leaves tumbled over the gravel. The land was managed with just enough land practice to keep it healthy, but otherwise remained wild and natural; something Erwin suspected Levi would appreciate.
“I have almost 30 acres here,” he went on to say, taking in Levi’s body language for any clue to what he was thinking.
Majority of his experience with wolvens involved lycanthropes which were humanoid in their expressions. It was an apt challenge to attempt reading Levi in his canine form, particularly when he was acting like he didn’t notice Erwin was speaking. More of that selective hearing, apparently.
His muzzle lifted to the air, sniffing and cataloging the new scents. The thick fur blanketing over Levi’s shoulders fluffed up a little, as if the new setting was enough to keep him on edge.
It was at that moment that reality began to settle. All the frustrations from the day smoothing to allow Erwin to realize just what sort of reckless situation he put himself in. Belatedly, it became apparent that he presented Levi with a prime opportunity to bolt. The tantalizing liberty just beyond the gravel was as enticing as a siren’s song. If Levi took advantage of Erwin’s careless oversight, the results would undoubtably hang on his conscious.
Best case scenario, Levi would disappear, never be heard from or seen again, leaving Erwin with no further leads to pursue Tybur. Simply disappear into the mountains like an apparition, living amongst other cryptids. On the other hand, Levi would be hunted. An investigation of a lost wolven was a serious subject and it'd be conducted along with the organization of numerous search parties, all the way to the Canada’s border. He’d be treated as feral, meaning shot on sight or tranquilized and dragged back to the closest facility. Erwin would lose his rights to him, and it was anyone’s guess what would happen after that.
Truthfully, it’d be in Erwin’s best interest to put Levi down if he decided to run, avoid all the trouble of getting the WMC and SRC involved. Prevent Levi’s secret from being exposed or causing innocent death should Levi turn violent in defense. He could do it too. All Erwin needed was to summon his scythe and he knew that, while Levi may have some immunities to fire and anesthesia, a swipe of his blade would render him lifeless.
His features tightened into a scowl that he hoped conveyed his warning to the hellhound.
Oscillating between staying or fleeing, Levi remained akin to granite sculptures and other dispassionate, unmoving things. A fragmented facsimile of a wolf tribute. But statues were safe and still, while Levi could break from his cast at any moment and act on those intrusive thoughts.
Slow and steady.
“Levi,” Erwin dissuaded. There was a twitch of Levi’s ear, but he didn’t spare Erwin a glance. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but leaving will only make everything worse. You may make it for a few days or even weeks, but it won’t last; they’ll get you back eventually. And if you choose to run, I won’t be able to help you again when you’re captured.” Or if I get you first. “I standby what I said in the annex. I won’t take your choice away, but I am welcoming you into my home until we can get everything sorted. The world has changed, and while I don’t know how long you were with Tybur, I can guess you aren’t familiar with much that’s taken place.”
Levi finally dragged his attention toward him, but he remained unreadable. If Erwin took a guess, he’d say Levi seemed perplexed, which didn’t change after Erwin shut the hatch. Withholding a sigh, Erwin took a gamble despite his inner voice warning that Levi would take off as soon as he turned. But he did. He exposed his back, which remained a disconcerting gesture, and started toward the steps to the cabin.
“I’ll get dinner started for us,” he said over his shoulder, pretending that Levi was following. He picked out his key and unlocked the door, plucking his mail from the mounted box on the wall. Upon swinging it open and flicking on a light switch, he looked over to Levi, lingering where he left him.
Finally, Levi moved, unlocking his limbs from their mold and prowling uneasily to the deck. He hesitated only briefly before reaching the threshold, shooting a last yearning stare into the woods, then gathered his nerve and slipped past Erwin. He was introduced to the warm and spacious interior of the home, having plenty of room to put some tract of emptiness between him and the reaper. Erwin suppressed a relieved exhale, forcing himself to shut the door and lock it as casually as he could.
“You’re free to change out of your current form. I can get fresh clothes for you,” he said conversationally, removing his jacket to hang on a hook.
Levi chuffed at him. His tail was lowered as he backed away for Erwin to pass, intent on keeping distance even inside the open-floor layout. Erwin pretended not to notice, slipping out of his shoes and walking to the kitchen island.
Levi’s hesitancy aside, it was rather common for people to naturally be leery of him. Always stiffening or backing up, failing to hide their fear of the reaper. For some reason, the fact Levi did it primarily due to the unknown of new circumstances was a welcomed change. Although he wondered if it would devolve into common fright like everyone else or if he’d eventually become comfortable like Erwin’s companions and fellow reapers. If he ever stopped viewing Erwin as potentially an enemy, that is.
He set the mail down and turned toward the fridge, curious about what his poorly stocked wares had to offer the two of them. As luck would have it, he had the accidental foresight to pull out a carton of chicken, for once pleased that it came in a package of two. Living by himself, he always split portions up for different days, having to go through more freezer bags than he’d like to admit.
“Do you have any dietary restrictions?” Erwin asked, closing the fridge and pulling a cutting board out from the drawer.
Levi, who remained between the door and sofa observing his surroundings, stiffened. His fur bristled once more like it had outside, paws flexing as those lethal nails poked at the hardwood floors. He avoided Erwin’s gaze entirely, which was a first. Usually, he made a point to keep an eye on the reaper or at least on the edges of his periphery, yet now there was a spot on the far wall that seemed to have his entire interest.
Ok. Message received. Complete avoidance of dietary questions was mentally noted and tucked away for Erwin to dissect later.
Concluding it was aimless to expect an answer after the slight, yet unnerving, rejection, he tugged his phone from the pocket and sent a text to Hange. A brief reassurance that they were both alive, the car suffered some shedding at most, and whether she speculated Levi should avoid eating anything specifically.
The response pinged shortly after he set his phone down while peeling off the blazer, confirming his suspicions of her waiting for his update. Reading it, the message was predictably laced with scientific redundancy, explaining that there were few animals in the world that were obligate carnivores, meaning eating strictly meat. Like cats. But wolves and dogs were simple carnivores that could digest other food groups.
Hange >
Remember! He’s still human to an extent and doesn’t seem to have any issues with the food he’s eaten so far.
Erwin took reprieve in that, recalling the soup and rice bowl. Looking up from his phone, he tried again.
“How does chicken, potatoes, and green beans sound, Levi?”
Surely a nod or shake of his head wouldn’t be that much to ask for, right?
Apparently, it was. Levi didn’t relent on either gesture but instead looked unsure. The earlier bravado seemed to have left him, leaving an uneasy creature in his living room.
Alright. Erwin could take the hint and give him time to process.
“I’ll get it started. Please, make yourself comfortable.” You’re making me nervous.
Levi’s eyes lifted to his, which Erwin rewarded the effort with a smile before rolling up his sleeves and going to the sink to wash his hands. He could feel Levi’s attention trail him like missiles tracking a target as Erwin navigated the kitchen. He did his best to act unaffected, understanding that he would be the subject of speculation until he made his motives clear. But Erwin wasn’t foolish to reveal everything so soon. Levi needed time to settle before they had that conversation—not to mention Erwin needed time to map out the rash situation he saddled himself with.
He didn’t know much about the process of adopting a wolven aside from the policies he dug up when trying to find loopholes to keep Levi in GSIS. Now that it was no longer an option, and he was technically Erwin’s on paper, he had a slew of research he needed to conduct moving forward. His opinion hadn’t changed in the few hours or even days since he first met Levi. The thought of owning another being, let alone soul, was tasteless and crude. But seeing as it was the only way to protect Levi, it did ease the internalized self-flagellation a little. A tiny, miniscule amount anyway.
... Maybe.
Truthfully, it was hard to distinguish between the jumble of other emotions stirred up from the day. At some point, the caffeine had finally hit and now he felt wired, unable to come down as it mixed with his nerves.
Letting out a soft sigh, Erwin risked a glance at Levi. The open layout of the A-frame gave an ample view of the living room from the kitchen. A dormant television was pressed against the farthest wall with low bookshelves on either side. A stone fireplace nestled between the front windows where a leather wingback chair and an ottoman sat in front of, while the sofa ran parallel to the television, discretely dividing the rooms.
Levi had braved maybe two steps since Erwin began preparing the ingredients, as if expecting the hardwood floors housed a secret minefield. He knew getting Levi to change would be another battle to come. For now, Erwin would let him unwind on his own before the reaper propositioned him back onto two feet and blunt teeth. He’d need to do it tactfully so as not to accidentally encourage Levi to stay in the canine form longer. The last thing he needed to do was conjure resentment or further distrust; not sure what else a hellhound was capable of. Levi was a prized fighter, after all. Just hovering in his living room.
So, yes. Keeping Levi calm in the house was a good, solid strategy, especially knowing he could tear through the place like a tornado if he wanted to.
“If you’re up for it,” Erwin suggested, unable to simmer in the stifling silence, “you can use the bathroom to get cleaned up. You’ve had a stressful day, I’m sure a shower or bath would help you feel better.”
Levi’s attention drifted between the hallway and the stairs that ran alongside it. The top floor was where the master bedroom sat, along with a loft that was empty space Erwin never found a use for. Sensing that Levi was interested, he gestured to the downstairs corridor where the doors were open, staying mindful of his movements as he left the food on the counter and rounded the island.
Erwin guided the way to the bathroom, feeling Levi following as quietly as smoke, ignoring the prickling of hair lifting at his nape. The reaper paused at the door, so Levi knew which it was, and then continued to the hall closet to pull out a fresh towel. When he turned around, the hallway was empty, setting the caffeinated nerves fluttering shortly before he forced them down, telling himself that losing sight of Levi did not mean he ran off or Erwin was being hunted. Though, he wasn’t sure which scenario sounded less appealing.
When he retraced his path down the hall, he was relieved--and surprised--to find Levi crammed into the tight space of the guest bathroom, somehow managing to have turned around to face the doorway. Despite being smaller than wolvens, he was significantly larger than even the sizable, domesticated dogs. Frankly, Erwin was surprised he didn’t get stuck. Following that thought brought the situation before him into clarity as he was left in an awkward pause in the corridor.
The first concern he had was that he didn’t want to get too close to make Levi feel cornered, especially when he’d backed himself into an enclosed space. The second worry revolved around Levi being in his... dog—hound—canine form? Whatever the correct term was, the fact remained that the cryptid embodiment wasn’t necessarily sensible for the bathroom. Can’t operate faucets with massive paws.
While he was along that thought process, should Erwin be concerned with water damage on the floor and walls? And possibly a clogged drain?
Before he could voice his apprehension, he realized he’d been standing in the doorway staring, which—predictably—spooked Levi into a warning growl. Their gazes locked onto each other and Erwin didn’t even get to form an apology prior to Levi creeping closer. Instead of lunging at him, Levi stopped by the sink and extended forward into an impressive stretch, leaving his feet anchored to the tile floor as his muzzle grabbed the towel from Erwin’s hands, as gingerly as if the fabric was a ripe fruit that would puncture from his teeth. Then he backed up with a pointed look and Erwin lifted his empty hands with a breathy short laugh.
“Alright. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll, uh, I’ll get you something to wear if you decide to change.”
The muzzle nudged the door shut after Erwin retreated a few steps, but he didn’t leave toward the kitchen right away. There was shuffling from inside, the clack of nails on the tile, followed by Levi bumping into what sounded like the toilet lid. Then it was quiet. No more taps or hints as to what was happening beyond the wood barrier. Erwin strained his ears, resisting the urge to press his cheek to the door to determine what was happening inside. Before the intrusive thought could fully sink in, it was interrupted when the door’s lock clicked over, a delay, then the faucet turned on.
Huh. So, he shifted back. That was convenient.
Erwin didn’t have to worry about water damage, after all.
The silence of the shift was equally an interesting discovery. Usually, wolvens had a rather painful sounding turning, bones popping and grinding into new shapes and muscles tearing to stretch out. Mike assured him that it wasn’t painful as it sounded. Rather cathartic like a deep tissue massage or being adjusted by a chiropractor. Erwin’s mind could not take his word for it. Couldn’t fathom the sound of a body being dismantled somehow equating to a comforting process.
But Levi didn’t have that at all. It had been entirely soundless, which had Erwin wondering if there was an element of witchcraft in Levi’s shifting. Some wolvens lacked the ancient ability that allowed them to heal faster or keep their clothes on when they changed to their human forms. A lot of breeders were specific in the bloodlines regarding wolvens, to maintain the craft for propriety reasons. Can’t have the family pet around the children or guests being naked when they shifted back.
But did that level of magic also extend to Levi?
Or was he naked when he turned?
Stop right there.
That was a train of thought he really shouldn’t be boarding right now. There was absolutely no reason for him to be wondering that while still standing outside the bathroom door like a perverse creep.
Shaking his head, Erwin hastily went upstairs to get Levi some clothes, settling on a set of joggers and an older T-shirt. When he returned, he placed them on the ground, knocking on the door to let Levi know. When no answer came and the faucet continued, Erwin informed him that the items were in the hall, then forced himself to retreat to the kitchen and get dinner started.
The process of blanching the green beans did little by way of offering the distraction he needed. Throughout the monotonous steps, his mind wandered to Levi in the bathroom, recalling the injuries and bandages. Thoroughly swept by the thought, he then left the pots on the stove and strode to the hall closet, ears tuned in to the sound of running water, even as he picked out his first aid and went back to the kitchen.
He didn’t know how fast hellhounds could heal. Given Levi was immune to fire—or at least, heated steel against one’s face—he suspected they could heal quickly like other supras. On the other hand, the strain of shifts had to tear at the wounds to some extent, and it wasn’t like Levi had much time to rest the past few days. Being compelled to turn could’ve reopened the injuries and no one would’ve noticed under the dark fur. Then there was the reminder that Hange suspected Levi had a fractured rib. How could bone fractures hold up to being remolded between forms?
That brought up another issue he needed to keep in mind moving forward. It was unknown what exactly Levi had been through during his time with Tybur, but judging by the mutism and standoffish aggression, it was nothing remotely pleasant. He knew victims could experience mutism through trauma-induced selectivity, where certain situations or environments triggered it, or complete mutism where it didn’t matter the circumstances. It appeared Levi fell into the latter category. While that was a major hurtle to overcome, especially when he wanted to learn about Levi’s experience with Tybur, it wasn’t the most worrisome factor he needed to be prepared to address.
No. There was something much more troubling looming on the horizon.
In the coming days or weeks, so long as he could get Levi to settle, rest, and recover, there was a high probability that things would get exponentially worse.
The vibration of his phone brought the thought to an end before he could truly speculate on it. Unlocking the screen, it was another message from Hange asking about Levi. Erwin sent a quick response, followed by his early ponderings of what made hellhounds unique.
Hange >
Your boy has some big paws! The phalanges and possibly the metacarpals are elongated, which I tried to sketch into my journal for reference, but I don’t think it’s the best rendition.
<What does that mean in layman’s terms?
Hange>
Those’re the bones in his paws. Equivalent to the bones of our hands and fingers. Phalanges are the fingers.
<And you agree it’s a hellhound trait and not deformity?
Hange>
Nah. I doubt that’d be the case. Some lizards are longer jointed in their appendages to grip and navigate across different textures and terrain.
Levi has minimal hybrid biology, remember? He’s not a wolven.
There’s that sinking feeling again. The one where Erwin did something without thoroughly thinking through all the consequences. Putting himself into a situation where he couldn’t control all the variables and forced to accept the feeling of treading water.
Hange must have sensed it through the lull on his end of the conversation.
Hange>
I can do more research about hellhounds. Can even update Mike and Nana too if you want. They should probably be in the loop.
< I know. I’ll call them later.
Hange>
Want me to reach out to Marie and Nile?
Erwin immediately disliked that suggestion.
<No. I don’t want them involved.
It was Hange’s turn to linger in the conversation, little dots flickering as she typed, then fading as she stopped or erased what she was deciding to say. Eventually, she corralled her thoughts enough to compose a response.
Hange>
Right. Not going to open that Pandora’s box. I won’t mention anything to them.
Erwin had nothing more to say on the matter, choosing to stir the food and prepare the plates. When he was back to waiting and monitoring the chicken, he typed into the search engine phrases to get a better understanding of hellhounds.
It wasn’t too difficult to come across the dragon-wolf hybrid theories, although most involved variations of myths he was already familiar with, or information of creatures in fantasy games. Of course, there wouldn’t be any scientific publications out there, but he had hoped for something more substantial. It wasn’t difficult for his own imagination to conjure how such traits would assist hellhounds to run amongst demons in the Netherworld. But even so, conducting heat was an interesting characteristic, not to mention whatever happened to the soul of the lycanthrope from the fighting ring. And how many hellhounds lived in their realm? Were their numbers diminished so severely that they were near extinct or were there more in the Netherworld?
He gave up the search for now, finishing the meal while thinking about the next steps. Levi would be forced to live with him for the foreseeable future, which was a long time for immortals. But wolvens in the WMC system were not able to earn their own citizenship as far as Erwin was aware, which was not exactly an outcome he was prepared to deal with right now.
Instead, he chose to let the fact that he just signed on for a lifetime commitment linger around the corner. Out of sight. If he was lucky, Erwin could find a loophole tucked beneath lines of legal jargon, one that didn’t involve revealing what Levi truly was, and benefiting them both. In a perfect world, he’d be able to avoid the required obedience training Levi needed to stay with Erwin and out of the shelters. But that seemed like a daunting ask for Fate and just another problem to add to Erwin’s growing To-Do list.
The WMC’s policies were designed to stubbornly break Levi down and rebuilding him—to force him to heel. It was abusive and unrealistic that such a method would be effective. Levi needed a different approach. A way to coax amenability and healing while finding a place where he could naturally slot into to be a functioning member of society. Treated with the same considerations as any other victim, had he not been born a shifter. Not like some submissive novelty enslaved to the desires of his guardian because of destitution.
That was easier said than done, and Erwin knew he was being rather optimistic given the other unspoken variable with the hellhound.
Just because Levi was here now didn’t mean he intended to stay and play along with any plans Erwin had. For all Erwin knew, he could be plotting to take advantage of the reaper’s hospitality by getting cleaned and having a warm meal before sneaking out in the middle of the night. Once again, it reminded Erwin how under prepared he was. It wasn’t like the spare room was set up in mind for a flighty hellhound, let alone the rest of the house.
What was he supposed to do? Board up windows and keep Levi prisoner, or trust the man would understand Erwin’s intent and stay? There was nothing to gain by forcing Levi to remain there. He wouldn’t get his answers by barbaric acts, and yet trading faith wasn’t a simple task either. It had to go both ways: Erwin to extend trust that Levi wouldn’t escape and Levi to believe Erwin had his best interests at heart.
Why did that sound like he was expecting too much?
***
Levi held his breath after locking the handle, sensing Erwin hadn’t moved from the hall. He didn’t dare lower himself to check beneath the door, mentally preparing for the reaper to demand the barrier be unlocked, if not outright try to kick it in. But when nothing happened, and no sound came from the man moving away, Levi tentatively backed from the door and turned on the bath. From further inside the room, there was a faint shift of a shadow that passed beneath the threshold and only then did Levi exhale.
Alright. So, privacy would be tolerated. At least, for now.
Levi took another stiff breath, feeling the ache of his ribs at the action. Shifting wasn’t pleasant in his current state, and he felt the wound at his side stretch uncomfortably, but otherwise the stitches had held. A small positive, all things considered, especially during the violent turning he was forced to endure at the training annex. Whoever’s sick mind conjured that injection needed an instant ticket to the Netherworld, preferably in one of the sulfur pits where some famished demon could chew on their soul for a while.
Turning from the door, he fiddled with the faucet, trying to puzzle how to get the desired temperature before finally working it out. While the tub filled, masking the sound of his movements, he stepped to the sink and perused the drawers. He was intent on finding something in the way of potential weapons, aside from the obvious toilet lid. A razor, metal nail file, or even a hair dryer perhaps? Erwin looked posh enough like he’d blow dry his hair, and the cord would act as an effective strangulation tool. Then again, it wasn’t exactly discrete to carry one around, and choking out the reaper meant he needed to get close. For an entity that specialized in short range attacks, Levi speculated it’d be a poor fighting strategy on his end if either decided to use violence at any point.
Before he could open another drawer, his investigation was cut short upon catching an involuntary glimpse of himself in the mirror.
A waif of pale, mottled skin and undernourishment stared back, with sharp edges like jagged quartz. The bruising around his throat was fading, the purple turning garish yellow and green from the cilice. The bluish tint to his jaw was a result of getting his face slammed into the van from Erwin, which was another sour reminder of what the reaper was capable of when pushed.
Levi took a steadying breath, removing his shirt to see the changes to his body now that he had a reflection after so many years.
His hair had grown out and looked matted, reaching the tops of his shoulders, and he hoped he could find scissors to cut the hideous length off. He was riddled with scars across his upper body but most of them were from the early stages of captivity, when he was still learning, still acting first rather than considering the consequences. They had faded to white or pale pink and only a few lacerations had been deep enough to leave uneven, raised scars. That didn’t even include the ones that had healed completely with no trace tattooing his skin. Not that it mattered much. He had to go on living; always decorated by his wretched past until he took his collection to the grave. The invisible ones were just as present at the ones staining his skin, at least in his mind.
Dirt clung to Levi like a film; months had passed without any opportunity to wash aside from hoses and buckets being dragged into the cells. The patches around his injuries were the only parts thoroughly cleaned to avoid infection, as if the rest of Levi’s filth covered body wouldn’t contaminate the open wounds. It’d only take contact with his hand, or a bead of sweat trailing down his back for bacteria to be introduced to the stitches. Apparently, it wasn’t much of a concern to anyone else.
Not their body. Not their pet. Not their problem.
Levi could feel frustration well up inside of him, but he shut his eyes and forced it down. Getting angry wouldn’t do him any good right now. He needed to work through his situation and be smart about it. Doing so required a level head, not high emotions driving his actions.
Retreating from the fogging mirror, he turned off the faucet and finished stripping before getting into the steaming water. Once he was submerged up to his chest, those pesky feelings returned with a vengeance, and it took gritted teeth and clenched eyes to keep them inside. The overwhelming semblance of an embrace was a kindness he hadn’t prepared himself for, and Levi thought he might cry if he opened his eyes. A wave of embarrassment and shame tried to smother him. But the physical relief alone, brought on by the soothing heat of the water, was enough to reduce the mistreated man to a level of bliss that it kept the negative feelings at bay.
Eventually, Levi composed himself enough to keep the tears from falling. He would’ve preferred to shower first rather than simmer in his filth, but the thought of any sort of spray on his skin was not something he wanted to revisit anytime soon. Too many unpleasant memories of icy hose water being the primary source of cleanliness left him adverse to the idea. A bath had been in his thoughts for so long that it became more of a dream than anything attainable. Yet, here he was. In a reaper’s house, taking a bath. No muzzle, nor cuffs or chains. No sentry hovering over him with a weapon to keep him in line. Levi was even allowed to close and lock the door for fucks sake.
It was so much to take in and his headache refused to let up, making everything rather difficult to process. It’d been a long day and the taxing experience from the annex had seeped all his energy from him. He felt completely wrung out and drained. If Levi was honest, it wouldn’t be challenging in the least to close his eyes and drift off in the bath as he was.
But there was no rest for the weary and he knew he needed to consider what to do next. Not to mention, he wasn’t keen to test Erwin’s patience by dragging out his time in the bathroom either. He may have been amicable so far, but at any second that switch could flip.
The idea of escaping was lingering in the forefront of Levi’s mind. Sneak away and dip into the mountains. But where would he go? He’d yet to learn what Erwin wanted from him, not that he necessarily was dying to know. Then there was his sole aim in life that couldn’t be forgotten—Tybur was still drawing breath somewhere nearby and that wouldn’t do. Just because Levi was out of a cage and inside a tub didn’t erase his original promise. Even if it meant walking back into harm’s way, risking recapture, and ending back where he started, Levi couldn’t move on until the vampire was finished.
All that aside, Levi wasn’t foolish to think he was in any condition to go hunting. No amount of wrath, fire, or willpower could override his physical limitations after years of neglect. He needed to gather his strength before confronting Tybur, because it wasn’t only the clan leader he’d be encountering. The vampire was always surrounded by others, and if Levi was going to hunt the man, he wanted to ensure he was as prepared as possible for success.
He supposed that meant staying with the reaper for the time being was the best option he had, so long as Erwin wasn’t playing games. It was true the arrangement seemed to benefit Levi. Out of the shelter, out of the city, privacy to bathe, and prospect of maybe regular meals. A significant part of him was convinced it was only temporary. That Erwin was preparing to rip the rug out from under his feet as soon as Levi dropped his guard or did something wrong, but for what purpose remained unclear.
Levi and the reaper had fought each other outside the van, and it was as if Erwin didn’t carry over any grudge. Forgive him for being suspicious of the reaper’s intent.
Manipulative.
That had become a reoccurring trait he encumbered Erwin with. From all his interactions with various staff and the fact he was able to secure Levi from the annex spoke plenty of Erwin’s conniving abilities to work situations to his favor. Something Levi needed to remind himself moving forward if he was going to stick around and regain his strength.
Maybe if he maintained the charade for as long as possible, it'd be as if Levi had an indirect ally to his plans. Unlikely, but not impossible. On the other hand, if Erwin started to show questionable motivation, he’ll simply find a way to leave. The cabin was not fortified like Tybur’s mansion, and it was blatantly obvious that Erwin had not prepared his home for a possible prisoner. So, that offered some comfort, small as it was.
On the other hand, Erwin could be relying on his reaper assets to keep Levi in line, which was unsettling enough to give Levi's self-assurance pause. He couldn’t underestimate Erwin. The man wasn’t an idiot nor was he someone others in the man's presence shrugged off. He’d proven himself authoritative and capable of subduing him and that was without activating his scythe. Granted, that was with Levi restricted with a muzzle, and he couldn't say how the results of a full battle would play out if it ever escalated between them.
Levi sighed, scrubbing his skin with the soaps along the ledge, smelling of Erwin. It was a rather pleasant scent and Levi found himself not minding it, though he told himself it was because he stunk of grime and sweat otherwise. He could be applying soap that smelled thick of roses, and he’d still be accepting of it.
There wasn’t much else Levi could ponder on. Between the throbbing in his temple, the persistent hunger pains, and heaviness of his eyelids, Levi was feeling rather complacent in following along with Erwin’s directions. At least until he got some sleep and took the edge off his aching body.
Fuck that injection.
Rinsing his hair, Levi drained the tub and toweled off. Another normal gesture that seemed almost new to him. He found a comb, worked through the tangles of his hair, running a quick investigation through the drawers a second time for scissors before giving up. Even a hair tie would’ve been ideal, but it appeared he was out of luck. No weapons, nor hair accessories.
After cracking the door enough to grab the change of clothes, he put the dirty ones on the tank of the toilet and got changed, not at all surprised to find he was swimming in the attire. The cotton was gentle, and the shirt seemed to have faded pigmentation from favored use, but otherwise plenty of life left in the fibers. Levi didn’t care if they were old clothes or not. Most of the time, he wasn’t allowed clothes as some form of humiliation and punishment. The ones he’d been wearing were the usual pieces Tybur allowed when moving to events or fights. For a long time, Levi enjoyed the chance to wear the stained, tatty fabrics even if it meant going someplace unpleasant.
So, Erwin’s clothes were an improvement. They were clean, soft, and the lingering scent of the reaper was not disagreeable. He just wondered how long it would be before the fragrance was associated with something upsetting once Erwin showed his true colors.
Not wanting to risk finding out so soon by testing Erwin’s tolerance, or by the reaper demanding the clothing back as a punishment, Levi left the bathroom to find the man in the kitchen.
The scent of a homecooked meal permeated the air, and Levi felt saliva pool on his tongue. He couldn’t tell if it was from nausea or hunger, not that he had anything to purge from his stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything since the day prior, and he was sure his body had already broken it down, starved as it was for sustenance.
Upon seeing Levi loitering at the end of the hall, Erwin offered a polite smile as his gaze raked over his form briefly. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, the reaper finished plating the meal.
“I hope you’re hungry, Levi,” he said, turning to replace the empty pan onto the stove. “Dinner is ready.”
There was not a single instance in recent history that Levi could remember not feeling the cramps of hunger like a rotten hole in his gut. As much as he didn’t trust the man shuffling about in the fridge, Levi had always been eager for whatever scraps was offered. He’d survived mostly on what he was lucky to have tossed inside his cage whenever Tybur was feeling gracious. Or unlucky. Some things he chose not to acknowledge what he’s eaten, as if pretending it never happened would be enough to erase it from reality. Feign ignorance and stuff that pathetic self-loathing into the darkest pit in his mind.
“I don’t know how regularly you’ve been eating, but I kept the seasoning to a minimum,” Erwin went on to say, pouring water into the glasses and setting one across from him at the island. “I’d hate for something to make you sick, so until we know for sure what you can tolerate, we can build up to tastier foods.”
A plate of chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables was set next to the glass of water along with silverware and a napkin. Erwin returned to the sink to wash his hands and when he twisted around while drying them, a frown sunk into place. Levi wasn’t sure why he was the cause of the new disappointment. All he was doing was standing there.
“Please,” Erwin gestured to the chair at the island. “Help yourself. If you need something, I’m more than happy to get it for you.”
Levi looked at the plate on the opposite side of the countertop from the reaper, then to Erwin. The man had his own dish beside him, seemingly content to stand and eat in the kitchen and not on the second barstool. There was slight comfort to having the island separate them, but it wasn’t quite enough to ease Levi’s troubles of proximity, or the question about the chair itself.
Was he expected to sit in it? Erwin wouldn’t have put the plate there if he wasn’t, right?
Tentatively, Levi inched to the stool, eyes on Erwin to read the faintest indication that something wasn’t going how the reaper wanted. But the man merely nodded, picking up his fork and plate as he leaned against the sink, moving some mashed potatoes around aimlessly. When Levi settled nervously into the chair, he didn’t remove his attention from Erwin as he pulled the plate impossibly closer, teetering over the lip of the counter and against his chest. It was positioned in a way that allowed him to hunch over it protectively.
Resource guarding, the facilitator at the shelter had called it. But Levi preferred to label it as not-missing-an-opportunity-to-eat.
Levi allowed his eyes to drop, feeling the steam of the food skim his face while his damp hair dripped on the counter and down his shirt. His gaze skipped to the fork and napkin, and suddenly the remaining bits of his confidence were flickering out of existence.
“I’d advise eating slowly, I’m afraid,” Erwin offered, not yet taking a bite of his own meal. It drew suspicion up like a hooked fish.
Why? Levi wanted to challenge, but his lips remained pressed together, refusing to voice any questions.
As if sensing his skepticism, Erwin explained, “As I said, I don’t want you to get sick and if your body isn’t used to rich meals, it could be detrimental to your health.”
The potatoes on the reaper’s fork disappeared behind his lips, though it did little to reassure Levi that his food hadn’t been contaminated. Then again, so what if it was drugged? He’d eaten worse.
Picking up the fork, Levi maintained his possessive looming as he stabbed some of the precut chicken, deciding that gaining nutrients outweighed any risks. Unexpectedly, it was the most palatable meal Levi was sure he had tasted, minimal seasoning or not. After the first bite he couldn’t help but shovel another into his mouth, hanging over the fresh meal and letting it envelop him in its aroma.
Erwin’s frown made another pesky reappearance as Levi ignored his warning. Upon the reaper’s sigh, Levi hastily scooped another mouthful lest Erwin took his hunger for non-compliance and revoked his right to food. He hated that he genuinely feared there was a chance for the precious sustenance being taken away at any moment, followed by days of starvation. It had happened so often that Levi refused to chance missing out on another bite.
Nevertheless, instead of addressing Levi’s blatant disobedience, Erwin ate his own dinner with a sort of apathy, as if the sudden development of ill-manners was not disturbing. In fact, he pretended not to be interested in Levi or his meal whatsoever. Had Levi not been so hungry and achy, he would have been more embarrassed about his behavior, but not having a fixed barrier between his food and the reaper had instincts going haywire.
“There’s no more chicken left, but there’s potatoes and green beans if you’re still hungry,” Erwin explained after a while, tone fighting to remain flat and not reprimanding. “I still advise you to slowly introduce food into your body, however I don’t want you to get the impression that I'd cruelly withhold it from you either.”
Levi paused in mid bite, lifting his gaze to the reaper.
Once he was sure he held Levi’s attention, Erwin added, “That being said, I’m due for a grocery run soon. I may try to order some tomorrow or the next day. You can let me know if there’s anything specific you’d like.”
Was this a trick?
It had to be.
Erwin was trying to keep Levi compliant and earn his trust with the doting and niceties. However, Levi had already witnessed Erwin's willingness to enter a fight, how he dominated his opponents whether verbally or physically, even subduing Levi when he tried to rend flesh from the reaper. In stark contrast, Erwin gained some sort of satisfaction with Levi's passivity, by him following unspoken rules and navigating by the man's subtle suggestions. Erwin was a man of antitheses, but above all he was dangerous. Levi still didn’t know why he was here. He was dressed and fed, doctored even, but there was no denying that stood across from him was a man potentially as menacing as Tybur. The fact that the reaper’s intentions and inclinations were so difficult to predict made Erwin even more daunting.
Levi looked down at the increasingly bare plate. The remaining morsels of chicken and green beans stared back sadly. As perilous as Erwin may be, so far Levi couldn’t deny his circumstances were measurably better than the past, so why rush to ruin it? Playing along for now seemed to hold the most benefits for him. Especially, if there was potential for regular meals. The kinds that were prepackaged, cooked, and served in a civilized manner, not... Not the ones he was used to.
Not the kind that fought back...
With subdued control returning, Levi drew his lips around the metal prongs with some effort and couldn’t help but reflect on how splintered and resentful and equally forsaken he had become. He was being fed a fresh homecooked meal, given clean clothes, bathed, and allowed to sit in a chair like a real person. The contrast to the week prior was so harsh, he felt as if it was a cruel drug-induced dream he was living. A mocking reality that was about to be ripped from his grasp as soon as he blinked because how did he deserve this?
A single tear, born partly from pre-emptive guilt, slipped free.
In his peripheral, he noticed Erwin freeze as the tear caressed his cheek before plummeting to the porcelain plate. Levi blinked, sinking back to himself as he took an even slower bite, fork coming away clean from his chapped lips before he gathered his thoughts. He raked his knuckles over his cheek to erase the salty evidence, then aimed a glare at the reaper. A silent warning to mind his own fucking business. But Erwin dropped his gaze before the glower could connect, eyes cast downwards at his food, pretending he didn’t notice the flash of weakness.
The rest of the meal continued with a new layer of discomfort; each man locked away in their internal musings. The clinks of cutlery on plates only seemed to amplify the awkwardness of the situation, but Levi refused to do anything more than finish his food and sip the offered water.
In the end, when there was nothing left of the reaper’s plate to feign distraction, he placed it in the sink and faced Levi again. Erwin crossed one ankle over the other and perched his hands on the marbled counter behind him, an open posture that purposefully exposed himself to the hellhound. Again, Levi reminded himself of the reaper’s observed cunning, doubting the gesture was done accidentally. No one offered their soft insides up to him willingly, barrier between them or not.
“I was hoping we could discuss everything that’s happened and what to do moving forward,” he explained. “But I know how exhausted you must be and think it’d be better postponed until tomorrow. The spare bedroom is yours and the sheets are all cleaned.” He paused as if something interrupted his thoughts before Erwin continued, “I want you to feel comfortable here, Levi, so if there’s anything you need to achieve that, let me know.”
Levi felt his face tighten into a doubtful squint before he could stop himself. Yet instead of becoming offended by the rude gesture, Erwin’s eyes crinkled with concealed amusement.
“I imagine you don’t believe me. Understandable. Trust comes with time.”
So, they had time.
The thought set his nerves skittering to the surface, having to wait longer now for answers. Levi focused on schooling his features to not give away his thoughts, forcing himself to look at the man’s chin. He knew he should appear attentive. He’d been in this position before; new and interesting. He just had to find out what the man wanted and then embody that to gain the most advantages.
Regain your strength, recover, leave and kill Tybur. Recover, leave, kill.
Levi gave an appeasing, barely noticeable nod, earning a slanted tilt to Erwin’s head.
“Yes? I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying yes to... Is that you saying that you trust me?”
Levi hesitated, considering whether to answer truthfully or not. He gave another short dip of his chin.
Erwin’s lip quirked, but the smirk was subdued and wouldn’t have been detected if Levi wasn’t staring at his chin.
“No, you don’t,” the reaper replied, sounding unsettlingly playful. “And that’s entirely alright.”
Was it, though? Forgive Levi for finding that hard to believe.
“I intend to get clothes for you and whatever else you need sometime this week... But we can discuss that more in the morning.” Erwin offered a disarming smile, turning his back to start washing the dishes. “I’m hoping after a good night’s rest, everything won’t look so overwhelming to you, Levi. Who knows, you may find we even have some commonalities between us. Only time will tell, right?”
Levi involuntarily stiffened at the end of Erwin’s exchange, hearing the smile sharpen around the words as if the reaper knew something Levi didn’t. He tried to replay his reactions, wondering if he gave anything important away that could be used against him, but truthfully, he wasn’t sure. His head continued to pound, and exhaustion clawed behind his eyes.
He supposed he would just have to see what happened tomorrow. Hopefully, he wouldn't regret it. Levi swallowed, setting the fork onto the empty plate, silently repeating his plan in his head while tacking on one more step.
Recover. Leave. Kill.
And survive the Reaper.
Notes:
Things will start to progress now. And no. Levi isn't timid, he's very bitter in his circumstances. Just wanted that to be clear and that he'll be more in character in coming chapters. Just have to get him to see Erwin is in his corner first, and not against him.
Thank you for all the wonderful support! I appreciate everyone reading, the kudos, and the comments!
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 12: Tornomov
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tornomov n. the weird hollowness of trying to imagine the distant future—struggling to place it in any sort of context you’d find relatable but straining to believe it could feel all that different from the world around you.
--The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
***
On all accounts, Erwin shouldn’t be up that early. The sun had yet to crest the vista, the forest still huddling tight amongst impenetrable darkness. But his mind would not stop sifting through the information collected the night before. From Levi voluntarily walking out in his unguarded form to the tidbits of expressions leaking throughout the meal.
The resource guarding and warning glares were their own concerns that would need to be addressed, but they paled in comparison to the tear that broke free of Levi’s composure. The man never made a sound, never revealed a clue to what caused it. He’d been staring blankly at his plate, eyes almost glazed over in thought when it happened. Then Levi’s focus sharpened, and he was sending a viscous glare at Erwin, daring him to say something about it.
But Erwin didn’t. He had nothing to say.
Instead, he ducked his head like a coward and gave Levi his wish by feigning ignorance. Levi didn’t buy it. Erwin knew he’d been caught staring. But neither verbally addressed it. Which was another cowardly move, seeing as he found selfish comfort knowing Levi wouldn’t use the moment to break his mutism.
After offering to look over Levi’s wounds, which went ignored, Erwin gave his clear explanation that if Levi needed treatment, to let him know and he’d get the first aid kit out again. An unspoken rule that Levi would not be held to his own devices when it came to his health and only with Erwin involved would it happen. It was a risk to play that card. Dirty and underhanded. Levi could stubbornly refuse to show any discomfort or pain and one of the injuries could get infected, however Erwin knew when it was smart to gamble. The likelihood of Levi caring about his health to come to Erwin was enough for him to draw that invisible line and assert his authority.
The purpose behind it was rather blunt and not exactly bereft of selfish intent. A method of coercion with the objective of forming a sort of dependency. Erwin got the distinct impression that Levi was hyper independent and adapted to having no one to rely on. In a perfect world, they could form some line of camaraderie while not taking away bits of Levi’s autonomy from him, however they were far from Eutopia where rainbows painted a sunny sky and everyone lived in harmony. Therefore, manipulating certain conditions to nurture communication and trust was required. Erwin also needed to keep in mind that overdoing it would have adverse effects so it should only be applied sparingly. He had to be careful to not over assert himself no matter how eager he was to coax Levi from his shell.
Sighing, Erwin shifted under the small blankets that did little in way of reaching his feet. He tried layering them so one was situated lower, although throughout the night, it was jostled off. Repeatedly.
The decision to sleep in the living room was easier to convince himself of than he anticipated, specifically not trusting the potential escapes attempts from reaching him from the upper floor. Even though Erwin allowed Levi to close the bedroom—thankful it already didn’t have a lock on it—he knew being just down the hall was a strategic advantage to wake up to any suspicious activity or noise. As a result, he felt a knot forming behind a shoulder blade and his hip ached from the stiff cushions. He’d had the sofa for a couple years now, but not taking advantage of watching television, the furniture was practically new and needed breaking in.
Well, he suspected he’d be doing a lot of that in the foreseeable future. He just hoped the leather would soften before his hip did.
Rubbing the pad of his finger in the corner of his eye, Erwin tried to conjure a profile of what he’d learnt from Levi thus far. The hellhound had yet to refuse a meal. Had constantly watched those around his cell when it came to routine cleaning, and he’d willingly cornered himself for the opportunity to wash in the bathroom. All signs of self-care in the barest forms, but a good start.
In a different light, when he was in the holding cell at the annex, Levi was pent up and pacing in the small enclosure. Negative emotions were directed outwards at everyone and everything unknown. Aside from giving him food when it was only Erwin visiting, there wasn’t any instance that was interpreted as friendly in Levi’s world. His cortisol levels were constantly working overtime, keeping adrenaline in a steady supply to retain alertness.
There was something dominating, yet distasteful, about reducing a spirited man to an agitated sideshow. Perhaps the cruelest thing about the cell at the annex had been the glass wall that allowed no privacy and nothing to be hidden from the viewer. A source of torment for the hellhound who felt only concrete and tile beneath his paws, which magnified the contrast to the fables of beasts amongst graveyards and rolling fields, merely captured in glimpses. He recalled looking at Levi and seeing something haunting in his eyes; imagined freeing him and watching him wreak bloody vengeance on the orderlies.
Not that he would condone the unwarranted massacre, but there was something to be said about potential and justice. And he suspected Levi was severely lacking in the latter... But those were just intrusive thoughts of the reaper he once was; when punishments were dealt with hangings and guillotines, and battles fought on horseback. A distant memory and time.
The vibration of his phone drew his attention to the coffee table, reminding him of the messages he never responded to the night before. Reaching over, he unplugged it from the extension cord and unlocked it, squinting at the intrusive brightness. They were texts from Mike and a missed call from an unsaved number who had left a voice mail. Opening that mysterious message first, he put the phone to his ear only to be greeted by the facilitator’s voice.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith. This is Hugh Conley with Olympia Wolven Shelter, and I just wanted to let you know I have your copy of the adoption papers for you, as well as the 3828’s documents and adoption starter kit. The package includes the necessary timelines that you will need to be aware of to get Levi registered during his first year, as well as numerous facilities to enroll him in. Please let me know if you’d like to stop by to pick it up or I can come to your house to deliver it this afternoon if that works better. I’d be happy to take the time to answer any questions you have moving forward...”
The message continued with the contact number, but Erwin ended the recording. The sudden willingness of Hugh’s support when Erwin, essentially, strong-armed him to sign off on Levi was unusual. After some consideration, it was likely that Hugh was simply keeping his own neck off the line, covering bases to avoid anything coming back on him. Reluctantly, Erwin opened a chat to the offered contact number and responded that the afternoon would suffice. Then, he moved onto Mike’s message.
Mike
>So, Hange said you actually went through with it. What made you change your mind?
It was sent six minutes ago, which told him the wolven was heading into work. He should've known Hange wouldn't wait around for Erwin to reach out to the Zacharias' on his own time, having taken it upon herself to inform them.
<It was the only way to get custody, as you said.
Mike
>Still didn’t see it coming. Would never’ve thought you’d adopt someone… How’s it going so far?
<As well as can be expected. It’ll be slow progress for a while.
Mike
>Get him to talk yet???
<No. Unfortunately.
Mike
>Nana says to tell him one of your stupid jokes. That’ll get a reaction. I say don’t do it. You’ll probably just piss him off.
Erwin smirked but shook his head. His notorious bad jokes were not the icebreaker he needed for Levi. He could agree with Mike on that suggestion.
<Sounds like Nana is trying to get me killed.
Mike
>Probably. I wouldn’t do everything she recommends. She’s secretly a sadist. A beautiful, but twisted individual.
<That’s a Reaper for you. I have no sympathy.
Mike
> 🥺 Speaking of secretly evil reapers, Shadis wants you to come in for a debrief on the case so he can close your contract.
<I won’t be in today, but I’ll try sometime this week to stop by
Mike
>I’ll pass the message along, but no promises Shadis will leave it at that.
So, what changed your mind about Levi? Nana and I don’t have a problem with it. We know you’re not like other people who adopt for entitled power trips but that’s what makes us so curious. Still determined to find out about Tybur?
<I think that’s obvious. I know he’s involved somehow, and I’m convinced Levi will be able to help.
Mike
>Well, I guess that’s a perk about freelance investigation. Just because GSIS closes the Cascade Butcher case, doesn’t mean you can’t continue your own.
<I’d offer you and Nana a place on my team, but I don’t think Shadis would appreciate me poaching his members. Not to mention, I don’t want to pay you to look at your face every day.
Mike
>You just don’t want Nana to get jealous that you want her to share me. But I think she could come around… for the right price 😏
Hange
>Stop soliciting yourself to Erwin. He’s taken now.
Erwin blinked, wondering if he accidentally opened the wrong conversation before realizing that the one that he was responding to was a new group chat. Created by the vampire herself.
Mike
>Damn, already???? 👀
<Hange... Why is this a group chat?
Hange
>Because, Ervy, we agreed Mike and Nana needed to be involved. Having a support group to get through this with Levi will be beneficial for everyone. Think of it as a Levi-How-To forum.
<If you think I’m going to be giving you updates regularly like a diary, you’re mistaken.
Hange
>Booooo! Don’t be like that. Messages go both ways. We’ll just pester you until you give in and disclose all the juicy updates.
Mike
>Are we going to just skate over the fact that Hange said you’re taken?
<Yup.
Mike
>I vote that we don’t and we discuss it as our first order of business.
Hange
>I second that! 😈 Speaking of, how’s our little spicey pumpkin doing? Not set the house on fire yet?
<Not yet, but don’t jinx it. I have some things I would like to discuss with you, but not until I can get a better idea of what state of mind he’s in.
Hange
>It’s nothing overly concerning right??? I know you’re aware already, but I want to make sure to hammer it home in that stubborn head of yours: Levi is a hellhound, and we don’t know what they are capable of. Add that to trauma and his refusal to speak, and really you have a ticking bomb under your roof. Tread carefully and if you have questions, let us know. Don’t try to handle it yourself no matter how capable you are. It only takes one misstep for something catastrophic to happen with victims.
Mike
>She’s right. And Nana confirms. I don’t mind coming by and trying to talk to him too. Maybe a fellow shifter would be a comforting presence. It’s still wild about him being a hellhound though.
<I appreciate it. I’ll keep you guys posted throughout the day.
Erwin wasn’t ready to go over what had happened the night before. The information he’d gathered felt shaky and unreliable still, capable of changing between one hour and the next. A ticking bomb sounded like an apt description. There was something uneasy about Levi like he was one bad day away from losing it, and that would not be a day Erwin wanted anyone else around for. He could only hope he maintained a calm, comforting home for Levi so he did not sink to an emotionally deprived space of mind. Or implode and cause casualties—to himself or Erwin.
Setting the phone down, Erwin glanced over the back of the couch to the window above the sink, the pitch sky was turning to a navy pigment, softening as the sun crept closer. The house felt unusually cold, and he noticed the heat had been running through the night. Had he known that, he would have started the fireplace the evening prior. Or got another blanket from the hall closet after Levi had commandeered the one that was originally draped over the back of the couch, like he had any real right to it. At the time, Erwin didn’t mind the bold claim. If Levi wanted another blanket to feel comfortable, then he was welcomed to take what he needed.
With that thought in mind, Erwin pushed from the sofa to pick out a couple more for himself from the closet. He frowned when he caught a stale scent that lingered on the fabrics, from having sat on the shelf for so long instead of being cycled out with the others in the living room. He’d have to add laundry to his growing list it seemed, along with more groceries and goods to accommodate another soul in the home.
Erwin’s fridge was a little barren, and he would’ve been embarrassed had Levi not likely been in squaller conditions previously. Hard to judge someone’s minimal contents when living in scourged circumstance. At least that’s what he assumed. It was difficult to pin exactly what Levi’s lifestyle was like under Tybur. Could’ve been posh living compared to Erwin’s humble cabin, but that was highly-highly doubtful.
As he meandered down the hall, he passed the spare bedroom, shut and quiet as it had been all night. Erwin didn’t think anything else about it, turning at the stairs to reach his ensuite to relieve himself and get cleaned up, hoping the water in the pipes wouldn’t disturb Levi. The A-frame was a newer build and lacked the typical cabin interior, modified with upgraded insulation and drywalls, so he knew it was quieter than most barebone models. Upon finishing, he returned to the kitchen, deciding breakfast would be a good introduction to the day for Levi.
The fridge shed light on a carton of eggs that his neighbor’s chickens had produced, having too much for the older woman to eat alone. The kind widow would always drop them by and chat with him, sincere in the gesture of her gifts of eggs, honey, and other items. It offered her a chance to change her lonely routine. The only reason Erwin accepted the gifts was because he knew she wasn’t doing it to bribe him due to being a Reaper. While some would take the gifts and honor askance for favor by skipping a gleaning, Erwin wasn’t in the habit of it. If the act of gifting was genuine, he wouldn’t disrespect the gesture. If it was done for gain and bribery, he’d ignore it completely.
With limited ingredients, Erwin decided on eggs, oatmeal, and some leftover blueberries, which were on the cusp of going bad. He hoped Levi wasn’t sensitive to food pushing the barrier of its shelf life, but he had a feeling that probably wasn’t the case.
As Erwin shambled around the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee and jotting down a list of ingredients that Levi may appreciate, he continued to pause intermittently to listen. There had yet to be any indication that Levi was awake, which was puzzling, especially as Erwin was not exactly masking the noise in the kitchen. He debated with himself whether to check on his guest or let him sleep a little longer, knowing that once he knocked on the door, Levi would be awake for the day. It was understandable that he was exhausted, and Erwin had no idea when the last time Levi had gotten beneficial rest was.
But it was unnervingly quiet...
Just the simmering of water for the oats and the heater still pumping warm air throughout the house.
Apprehension ballooned in his gut, causing Erwin to set his mug down beside the freshly brewed coffee pot and turn off the stove. He really couldn’t ignore it any longer, he needed to make sure. Stalking down the hall, he could see the inkling of light beneath the doorway from the rising sun creeping in, noting that the curtains were open. But still no sound.
Drawing to a halt, Erwin took a calming breath and raised his knuckles to rap on the door just before a chill brushed over his toes from beneath the threshold. Confused, he dropped his gaze as if he’d be able to see the fondling morning air teasing at him.
The window.
The window was open!
Panic reared within him as he thrust open the door, thoughts tumbling within a millisecond about how he should’ve known better—and what sort of trusting moron was he—and how could he drop his guard so soon. One beratement after another toppled across all logic as he rushed into the bedroom, confirming all his fears that Levi---
Was still there?
Curled in a ball at the foot of the bed was the unmistakable canine shifter who was tucked beneath the stollen blanket and—oh, fuck!
Upon the abrupt entrance from the reaper, Levi was propelled into a snarling, startled black mass of fur and teeth, jerking onto his feet and snapping his jaws at the perceived threat at the edge of the bed. He managed to catch Erwin’s forearm in a skin-snagging bite before the reaper could fully backpedal away from the frightened canine, slamming into the door with the brass knob digging into his low back. The discharging blood down Erwin’s arm was barely noticeable as his internal alarm bell redirected itself inward, trying to regain control of the situation. His mind blared with threat-threat-threat and his hand flexed at his side.
Stomping the swell of his soul energy rising to meet the dangerous canine, Erwin quickly recovered distance between them, lifting his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture to stop any further attacks from escalating between them.
“I’m sorry—Sorry! I-I thought... Sorry,” he took a shaky breath.
Meanwhile, Levi lingered on the bed, growling with his tail hung low and stiff. It wasn’t a hostile posture but rather defensive and anxious. Erwin had genuinely scared him. Now, he felt like an asshole.
“I thought you—thought you left because of the window,” Erwin supplied haltingly, trying to assuage his guest after his embarrassing folly. After a beat, Erwin cleared his throat, salvaging his composure by slowing his thoughts down now that there wasn’t an immediate danger. “I should’ve knocked... I truly didn’t intend to startle you, Levi.”
The incisors disappeared, the growling tapered, but the fronting stance was still firm and locked in place.
Good job, Erwin. Great start to the day. Wait until Hange hears of this.
“Er... breakfast is almost ready. I’ll... give you space,” he said lamely.
He was about to apologize again but thought better on it. Once was more than plenty so long as it was sincere. He did more than enough.
As he stepped out of the room, he turned around, debating about closing the door or leaving it open. In the end, he shut it behind him, if only to try recovering an inkling of good faith and allow Levi some privacy after his rude entrance.
All the way to the kitchen, Erwin cursed himself for jumping to conclusions, though it was rather a half-hearted beratement. He couldn’t feel entirely guilty given the circumstances, even if he should’ve knocked first, he knew he wasn’t completely at fault. He suspected there would be a few more shameful mistakes moving forward with Levi that he’d be piloting through, just as Levi was bound to make his share of accidents.
Regardless, trying to earn Levi’s trust was the largest hurtle on the horizon and barging in the room on a troubled pit-fighter was the opposite of productive. While Levi may not act like a victim, willing to stand his ground and face what comes head on, Erwin still considered him as such. And victims needed healing, not being scared out of their wits of being attacked when their guard was down.
Damnit.
Pulling out the first aid, he went to the kitchen sink and peeled off the cardigan. The knitted pattern was stretched and torn, soaking up the oozing fluid and turning the muted beige into rust. There was some appreciation in having the foresight to dress down for his time off rather than wear his usual attire. A strategy he may need to apply in the following days to avoid his quality wardrobe from suffering casualties.
Streaks of vibrant oxygenated blood webbed down his forearm and stained the white cuffs of his sleeves, not stopping until it reached between his fingers. Rolling up the shirt, Erwin submerged his arm under the faucet and scrubbed the carmine stripes away, watching as the ruptured skin came away clean. It only lasted a second before blood bubbled over, dripping down his elbow to the stainless-steel basin. Erwin blew out an exhale and hung his arm in the sink, reaching with his free hand to drag the first aid closer and rip some paper towels free.
There was a certain taste of betrayal left on his tongue. The sort that comes after a sucker punch flying from out of nowhere. Erwin wasn’t putting the blame on Levi, though he’d say they were both responsible for their own actions in the end. A shared blindside. Erwin bursting in and expecting an empty room, and Levi hoping for enough privacy to recuperate. Neither expected what they found and both responses were ill-applied.
What was the most frustrating part of it all—even if Erwin had to chuckle at his misfortune—was that he had not anticipated it’d be him needing medical attention so soon. At this rate, he’d have a new injury on every limb by the end of the week. The nasty bite in the meat of his arm and the healing burn of his hand were possibly just the start of the collection.
Being reminded of the first disastrous lesson in dealing with the hellhound, Erwin glanced at his palm, finding it curious that his usual healing was apparently not up to curing the burns so easily. It wasn’t clear whether that was a factor to heat-induced wounds in general or a trick of Levi’s that slowed cell production. He supposed he could draft up a few hypotheses and compare them to the new injury. Hange would appreciate that.
Shortly after Erwin successfully bandaged his arm and returned to fixing breakfast, Levi stalked into the living room, looking very put off in his human form. His surly mood and distrust were worn like accessories, enhanced by the slanted rays of morning light pooling in the kitchen.
Erwin merely observed him with a non-committal neutrality, interested in seeing what would happen next. Apparently, the bold staring dampened Levi’s intensity as the shorter man’s gaze skittered away, now focusing on Erwin’s hands and chest. It created a certain distance from the interaction, as if Levi was retreating into his thoughts, or attempting to dodge Erwin from seeing anything that wasn’t meant to be projected. The more they interacted, the more these moments of avoidance were multiplying.
“I’m finishing breakfast, so you can make yourself comfortable,” Erwin eventually said, not meaning for it to sound as demanding as it came out.
The not-so-suggestion snapped Levi back into the moment, though instead of taking a seat, he inventoried the home from where he stood. Erwin continued to watch him evaluate the surroundings with blank stoicism, but it was Levi’s eyes that captivated him. Intense as forged steel, yet there were pinkish cobwebs emanating across his sclera. Beneath the immediate exhaustion that he couldn’t seem to shake after a single night of rest, a shadow lingered which reflected his acquaintance with violence. It reiterated the strength the man contained. Not the sort of strength for carrying heavy items, but the kind that exuded a never quit attitude. A flavor of resolve that made a soul particularly dangerous.
Erwin finished prepping and set the plates down as he had before, granting Levi extra space to grab it from the counter and drag it towards him protectively. He didn’t miss how Levi’s attention drifted to his doctored arm, nor how he wasn’t all that remorseful. If anything, it was a cold look of serves you right.
Well, while some regret for biting him would lessen the sting of his wounded ego, Erwin couldn’t fault Levi for his resolved outlook. It did serve him right.
As they quietly ate their food, marinating in the uncomfortable atmosphere of the kitchen, Erwin continued observing Levi. The man looked even more fatigued than the night prior and he wondered if he got any sleep at all.
Before Erwin could pick a topic to break the thickening awkwardness, Levi stiffened like a rod, instantly going on alert as his attention zeroed in on the window above the sink. Erwin couldn’t help but share a second-hand panic, suddenly questioning if someone uninvited was at his house. But as he followed Levi’s line of sight over his shoulder, he almost chuckled at what he saw.
In the dewy autumn light, a doe lazily meandered through the trees, browsing on shrubs that were armored with perennial foliage against the approaching winter. She, along with a buck and second doe, were usual visitors to Erwin’s land, not the first time seeing one of them while enjoying his morning rituals. Usually, they tolerated each other’s company while he sat on his deck in the evenings sipping his brandy, so he didn’t think much of their presence. But when he returned his attention to Levi, the perpetual scowl had vanished. In its place was pure shock that seemed so untouched after all the rancorous threatening displays. Levi’s consciousness glided somewhere out between the trees, trailing the doe’s movements through the picturesque morning.
Erwin set his fork and plate down on the counter at his back and watched him; for once enjoying the absence of Levi’s regard. It allowed the reaper to ponder the pained lines of his guest’s face now that they were temporarily absent. The fact Levi was capable of that level of openness had Erwin turning the thought over in his mind, confused by the juxtaposition with Levi’s usual inverse discourtesy. He didn’t hold the man’s discomfort against him, knowing he’d require time to dethaw, but seeing the unguarded expression and softened shoulders stirred something sinful in Erwin’s chest.
Greedily, he wanted more of those reactions. In a particularly envious, yet flitting pang, he longed to be the source of it. Both unrequited emotions had him prying for an opportunity to appease the rising desires before considering what he was saying next.
“Would you like to go for a walk on the property after breakfast?” Erwin asked, reeling Levi’s attention back onto him. It hung just long enough for their eyes to connect. Then his gaze went back to the deer, leaving Erwin mourning the loss and trying again. “I can show you the property lines, so you know where it ends in the forest.”
That would be good for him to know—right? Especially if it ever came down to trusting Levi enough to wander on his own, he’d need to make sure he didn’t trespass on someone else’s property. Glenda, the kind widow with gifts, would not care and may even appreciate the company. As for the other neighbors, they would absolutely have an issue, particularly if they saw a perceived wolven weaving through the trees. Any predator was a threat in their eyes seeing as their property hosted a herd of cattle and goats.
But that wasn’t a permanent problem. If anything, the mild threat of spooked neighbors would provide Erwin with the opportunity to layout some rules. An excuse to confiscate a link from an already short chain of Levi's autonomy, until the hellhound became more open to him. He had a feeling the hyper independence would become a massive problem if it went unchecked, and a certain level of dependency was required to build trust. Manipulative as it was, Erwin didn’t feel the guilt he probably should have.
Whether unaware of what was to come, or just naïvely pleased by the offer, Levi gave an eager nod. A bubble of excitement inflated, satisfied that he had Levi’s willingness to join him.
“Finish your breakfast, Levi.”
Without a glare or twist in his features, Levi leaned over his plate and finished the eggs and oats. Erwin found himself relishing in the way he could evoke such an irate expression from his guest with his actions and then make a balm with his words, causing Levi’s pretty face to go lax, almost trusting. A step in the right direction after his earlier foolishness.
Learning how to navigate Levi’s responses was becoming shamelessly addictive.
***
The peacock reaper had that stupid smirk on his face again. The same one that slipped free whenever he thought Levi wasn’t paying attention. Just because his eyes weren’t aimed at the man’s face didn’t mean Levi’s guard was down.
He fucking noticed.
But Levi pretended he didn’t. Continued with the charade of distraction, lulling his keeper into whatever false comfort he sought. A mistake of underestimating Levi would work in his favor should the reaper try anything. It was a strategy that served him well when dealing with handlers and guards in the past, leading to their unexpected demise when they attempted to take advantage.
So, let Erwin have his amusement.
That was the approach that Levi had settled on originally, yet the fact was, these secretive reactions were appearing more frequently which had the hellhound second guessing himself. A constricting vine of unease spread behind his breastbone, unwieldy and relentless, threatening to knot in his chest. He knew the source of it. Erwin unnerved him. Not because of anything he’d done, but rather because of what he hadn’t done.
“Here. Please put this on. It may start raining while we’re out and I don’t want you to get cold.”
A hoody appeared in the space between them as Erwin handed over the garment from across the island. The purposeful gesture of returning from his room to the opposite side from where Levi sat was not subtle. It maintained a barrier while also permitting Erwin to push the wall of Levi’s personal space. Close enough that he didn’t have to fully extend his arm to take the hoody hovering over the countertop. Close enough that their hands would touch if not for the material.
After taking it, Levi dropped his gaze to the maroon cottony fabric, feeling the satisfaction radiating off Erwin. However, when he shot his gaze up in a temperamental scowl, there was no hint of it aside from harmless contemplation.
Levi’s eyes narrowed further.
“Would you like shoes? I’m sure they’ll be big, but I have sandals that may be comfortable—”
He shook his head, sliding off the stool to slip into the hoody.
“Are you sure, Levi? I can’t imagine walking barefoot in the forest would be—”
Levi’s head popped through the neck of the fabric and the glare intensified. Just to make it clear to the reaper, he shook his head again, curt and sharp. He would not be caught dead wearing sandals. Especially, oversized ones at that.
No.
Erwin backed off, admitting defeat in that given battle. Yet the bastard was undoubtably determined to circle back for another in the future. Levi could practically read that much from the man.
It made him anxious. And twitchy.
“If it gets too uncomfortable at any point, let me know and we can return to the house,” Erwin relented, leading the way to the front door.
Levi rolled his eyes at the reaper’s back. What are you going to do? Carry me back here?
Of course, he didn’t say anything, following the man to the front of the cabin. His heartrate began to pick up a new tempo, though it was unclear whether it was from anticipation or dread. Something about the sudden offering for an outdoor stroll hoisted red flags in his mind, despite his previous excitement.
As the door swung open, Levi couldn’t help but freeze as the reality unforgivingly caught up to him. In all the time of his captivity, the only instances of being outside were being transported from a vehicle to a building and vice versa. If he wasn’t bound, muzzled, and blindfolded, he was drugged and unconscious. The night before was the first in years that he wasn’t restricted, but he had been too overwhelmed by the annex to truly absorb the significance.
Levi knew that the evidence of him suspecting danger, or a cruel game was writ across his face, though mostly he felt overwhelmingly tired and distinctly pained. To anchor him to the certainty of the situation, Erwin laid out his terms.
“We’re going to walk around the property so you can familiarize yourself with your new setting,” he said and then, injecting every word with gravity, added; “as long as we ensure that no one sees us passing property lines, nothing bad will happen. Some neighbors this far out prefer to shoot first and ask questions later. I want you to stay close to me and not wander.”
Being aware of one’s manipulation seemed to be of little help and, somehow, Levi found himself more lost than usual.
Stay close to me and not wander.
He wasn’t any closer to discovering what Erwin wanted from him, and it was annoyingly easy to go along with directions when they weren’t executed with threats or force. When Erwin continued to stare at him, broad shoulders filling the entryway and barricading them inside, Levi realized he was waiting for his assurance of the rules.
He gave a nod.
Erwin contemplated the sincerity of his response, no hint of what he was thinking behind the unwavering intensity as they stared at one another. Levi continued to hold eye contact with the man, though he could feel the urge gnawing at him to look elsewhere. However, after a few drawn seconds, Erwin must’ve found what he was looking for as he turned and held the door open.
It took an ungodly amount of effort to take the first steps past the threshold but when he did, Levi was greeted by vigorous mountain air and cold deck slabs under his feet. Erwin lingered beside him, never straying more than two steps away. He simply paused in an unspoken assertion that he would not allow any further distance between them while outside the house. Reluctantly, Levi took a stabilizing breath and relinquished some of his need for solace, feeling the metaphorical bubble around him flex and thin in those meager feet. But it didn’t burst. That was important.
He tentatively followed Erwin out into the grass, feeling the dampness between his toes and the carpeted texture accepting him, a contrast to the jagged gravel. A splinter of sunlight punched through the branches, causing the dew to sparkle across the vegetation. Erwin’s house was detached from the surrounding forest, but in allowed for luscious understory foliage to be established with the bountiful sunlight. It left Levi wondering what kind of spring flowers would pop up. Perhaps, gentle petaled purples or delicate white clusters. The cheery gold dandelions that would turn into cotton wisps.
Would he even still be there to witness it himself?
The question brought a maelstrom of emotions surging up. Hope was stalked by confusion, then swallowed by frustration, and finally ripped down by fear. He didn’t know what was in store for him. What Erwin wanted. If he was going to be sent back to the shelter or if Tybur would find him again. Would he ever fulfill his promise? Erwin had told Perry that Levi was his, but what did that mean? Was he released from the shelter because Erwin adopted him? If so, why did he do it?
As they breached the forest, there was a moment of hollow acceptance as a bird landed on a branch above him. A sparrow. Small, tawny, and bouncing as it pecked at a twig. And just like that, it hit Levi like a train that none of this was a dream.
He really was outside, surrounded by life and warmth and simplicity that came from everyday existence. The sort that continued on with oblivious consistency without him. Without them.
In a moment of repose, Levi lifted his face to the sky and the pain seemed to temporarily ebb from him, sucked inside the blackhole in his chest. The furrow of his brow turned smooth, and the firm line of his lips went lax. Then, quite suddenly, he crumpled to the forest floor, digging desperate fingers into the loam and fir needles, taking long, faltering breaths. Utterly lost in himself, he pulled fistfuls of ferns from the ground and raised them to his nose. His tears tried to spill quietly, but he clenched his eyes to keep them at bay, and inhaled the earthy scents. He continued to compose himself until the sparrow had fluttered off and the branch’s shadow inched down his lap as the sun rose higher. Levi was so consumed with taking in the sounds and smells of the woods, he had momentarily forgotten about Erwin standing above him.
“Did Tybur not allow you to go outside?”
Levi didn’t spare himself the opportunity to debate on answering, instead shaking his head. He was starkly present for the first time in weeks; reaching out to connect with every shred of nature he could. He plucked a spruce cone off the ground, digging his thumbnail beneath the scales.
He could hear Erwin taking a breath above him. It was not in frustration or anger, but rather a preparation for something uncomfortable.
“I asked you about it before, and while I’m sure I know the answer, I need you to confirm it...”
There was a delay, where he sensed Erwin was hoping for his full attention. But he focused on the cone and the squished fern in his lap, bleeding the watery sap in the creases of his palm.
“Levi. Were you free before you were under Tybur’s control?”
This again? He swallowed as he turned over the question in his skull.
It was another reminder that he didn’t know the reaper, nor did Levi owe him anything. He may have fed him and provided a bedroom with promises of more, but that was no different than other monsters Levi had met. And could he really be blamed for his hesitancy to answer? Humble men did not dress like modern monarchs, nor did they assert themselves so brazenly.
On the other hand, it didn’t mean Erwin was a conniving bastard trying to exploit him either. He could just be naturally dominating, adorn fine clothes, and live in his oddly shaped castle alone. The only way to know was to continue learning about him, which would inadvertently open Levi up to exposing some parts about himself.
As Levi contemplated his response, his instincts were quiet but at attention, ready to soothe should his annoyance flare into something more destructive.
He gave a nod.
Erwin didn’t make a sound. No sharp intake of breath or hum. It took Levi lifting his head to look at him to see that Erwin had in fact seen the answer. But whatever he was thinking wasn’t displayed.
Another annoying trait about the man.
“I apologize if the question seems insensitive, but were you traded or sold to him?”
Levi shook his head.
“Did you voluntarily sell your rights away?”
Another shake, accompanied by a faint sneer at the suggestion.
“... Were you taken against your will?”
Levi sucked in a deeper exhale to steady himself.
Nod.
That got a reaction. Erwin’s jaw tensed, sharpening the line to his chin.
“And I don’t suppose you were treated kindly.”
It wasn’t a question, but Levi gave him the courtesy to at least hold his gaze before letting it fall to the crumpled leaves beside his legs. No words or gestures could begin to detail what Levi had been through under Tybur’s care.
Sighing, Levi collected himself and stood, taking a new frond from the fern with him as token, as if releasing his hold on nature would leave him unmoored. Meanwhile, Erwin quietly guided them through the trees, each retreating to their thoughts.
The walk was steady and rather relaxed with Erwin picking the path of least resistance and fewest obstacles. Levi suspected it was in consideration to his bare feet, but he wasn’t complaining. It allowed him the chance to take in the sights without having to rely on watching where he was going. Most of the trails they followed were game paths, where he caught the lingering scent of deer and something a little sourer. He suspected it was another creature that possibly lived in the trees or downed logs, but not knowing where he was at, made it difficult to determine the local fauna.
Eventually, Erwin halted at a particular tree and gestured to the ground where a round metal coin the size of his palm was inserted. A property marker, Erwin explained. The labels on it referred to the township and range, meaning passing it led to another’s territory.
Walking along the forest to the opposite side of the driveway revealed another one and Levi was starting to map out a picture in his mind. It was strange that this process was used for boundary lines when fences weren’t erected. Wolvens usually marked their territory by scent, communicating a warning to anyone outside their region. But he supposed even out this far from the city, people were stingy with what was perceived as theirs that they needed to lay claim somehow. When scent and fences weren’t an option, strange coins were used.
“Still up for walking to the back of the property? It’s further from the house and it’s alright if we don’t get to all of it.”
Levi nodded, not ready to return indoors, not ready for it to end.
They continued trudging through the forest, crossing a babbling creek and dropping down a decline. The land behind the house was uneven and wild, sweeping and dipping in various terrain. Eventually, as the cloud cover began to dominate the sky, they reached a meadow that opened to a view of the distant mountain range, spanning acres into the distance. A modest river snaked through the brassy vegetation, fast moving and cold, stirring a chill from Levi as the brisk breeze combed through the open landscape.
It was instantly Levi’s favorite location on Erwin’s property. He could imagine quiet days of sitting beneath the shade of a tree and sleeping, or skipping rocks when the river wasn’t threshed with currents from heavy rain. Looking to his left, he stole the moment to observe Erwin, who’d been a persistent presence during the stroll.
The reaper was drinking in the scenery with his usual put-togetherness. Even after trekking through the woods, his straw hair remained perfectly moussed in a way that the wind didn’t blow it askew, but it still moved as he did. His overcoat fit him as if tailored and molded to his physique with trousers falling in clean, straight lines to the pair of well-oiled hiking shoes. He stood tall, rooted into the earth as if he was the manifested axis. During the hour of exploring, Levi found himself falling into a sort of contentment in the reaper’s company and he wasn’t sure if it was something he needed to fight against or allow himself to accept. At least, where sharing the same space was concerned.
Several drops of rain landed around them, and Levi couldn’t keep from deflating at the change of weather. He assumed Erwin wouldn’t allow them to linger, cutting their plans short at the will of the clouds. It was a shame seeing as he was so taken with the meadow, almost mesmerized by the wind raking through the grass and causing the colors to flicker in strips.
“We can stay a little longer, if you’d like,” Erwin’s voice cut through his mounting disappointment.
Levi turned back to find the man watching him intently. He didn’t bristle as he usually did, seeing as he was doing the same thing just moments before. Did Erwin know?
He didn’t get a chance to find out as Erwin gestured to a cedar tree near them, where he guided Levi to use to shield against the rain.
“I realize now that I should’ve gotten you a better jacket. I was being a little pretentious in thinking, we’d be back before the sky opened,” Erwin explained with good humor, hair taking a flattened shape from the rain’s influence.
Although he knew Levi wasn’t going to respond, the hellhound found he appreciated listening to Erwin speak. His baritone and overly polite alliteration were beginning to fall in the category of soothing and he even found himself wondering what it’d be like to listen to the man read; folding syllables over each other with the unique amalgamated British accent caramelizing the vowels.
Forcing the thought away, Levi observed the man again, trying to pick apart what he knew and didn’t. It was severely unbalanced, but he hoped that deducing what was in front of him would be a good start to change that. So far, the man was inconsistent. A trait that wouldn’t bode well for Levi if things ever took an unfavorable turn. Between his actions and words, the fancy clothes and the meek house, he truly suspected he was missing something crucial.
Erwin lifted a brow when Levi’s staring lingered too long to be considered innocent.
“That glare feels a little judgy, Levi.”
Instead of averting his gaze, or making a gesture to show that wasn’t the case, Levi simply stared harder at the teasing. Erwin didn’t take offense. If anything, the man seemed highly amused by the attention. Almost like he enjoyed it.
“What’re you thinking about? Is there something on my face?”
He shook his head.
“Is it my clothes?”
When he didn’t answer, Erwin took it as confirmation he was on the right path.
“Is it regarding my clothes not matching the stereotypes of living in the forest?”
Levi scoffed. That was one way of putting it. Posh hermit.
Erwin’s amusement only amplified as he released a chuckle. “You’re not the first to bring it up. Mike enjoys giving me a hard time as well. Are you familiar with Reapers?”
Levi shook his head, brows pinching slightly in confusion as to the change of subject.
“Well, not all of us are gifted with the ability to hear the dead. Some can only find connection with living souls. It’s...” he trailed off, thinking of a way to describe it, “like a frequency change once the body dies and a soul doesn’t fully move on to the Netherworld. I’m unfortunately capable of hearing both pitches which can make it rather unpleasant. Living out here helps mitigate it to a degree.”
The explanation made sense, and although Levi had never heard souls speak, he was familiar with what they felt like. Even tasted like. But never what they would whisper. It was probably a good thing, if he was honest. He’d hate to hear what the dead had to say.
The rain came down quicker, slanted so that their backs were kept dry by the tree. Levi crouched to take some strain off his injured ribs, absently picking at the grass by his muddy feet. He’d tried not to wrinkle his nose at the filth, feeling confident enough that Erwin would allow him another bath when they returned.
“I know we have a lot we need to discuss,” Erwin eventually said, tone sinking as the words carried a foreign level of significance. The building up to an important topic. “But something has been on my mind during our walk that I’d like to address.”
Levi titled his head to look at Erwin above him, wondering when he got comfortable enough to lower his guard to the point of crouching. Still, he waited for Erwin to continue, hoping he’d finally find out what the reaper wanted from him.
Sadly, he was disappointed.
Erwin’s arms were folded over his chest as he leaned against the tree, but his eyes were like physical restraints, securing Levi in place.
“I’m not going to pretend like I know what you’ve been through. It wouldn’t surprise me if my imagination wasn’t fit to do it justice... However, it’s obvious you’ve been through a lot that would break the average person. What I do know is that people who survive these sorts of situations are not magically healed after they escape,” Erwin proclaimed, eyes starting to move very noticeably down Levi’s hunched figure.
While Erwin wasn’t actually touching him, Levi could practically feel each glance linger like the skim of phantom fingers, sliding down his nape and searching for what lay beneath the oversized hoody. It was almost unbearable under the weight of scrutiny, but Levi didn’t dare move regardless of his heart thumping a little harder against his sternum or heat creeping up the back of his neck. Not even when Erwin’s eyes singled out the location of the bite mark in the curve of his shoulder.
A harsh, unintentional parting gift from Tybur himself.
“I'm afraid a lot of hurt will return to you. Things you thought you had come to terms with will sneak up on you with a vengeance now that you have been given a reprieve. I fully intend to help you through it, no matter what you face in the coming future.”
Levi got a strong sense that Erwin was leaning on some dry Civilian Managing 101 training. Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to roll his eyes at the warning, it left Levi feeling... ominous.
Maybe if he looked deeply at the source of concern, he’d realized a part of him suspected Erwin was entirely correct. That having limited exposure to danger now would have its own set of consequences that he’d be forced to face. But that same resolve that carried him through hardships shoved the worry down, deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about.
What did Erwin think was going to happen? He’d have some breakdown after realizing he wasn’t going to wake up one morning in his cage? Did he really think Levi was that incompetent and weak?
He had lived his life under constant strain of hunger, pain, and cold. When one was gone, another stepped in, never leaving him in complete solitude. Everything he did to survive was something he had pushed aside with justifications of their necessity. There wasn’t room for regret or fear.
But Erwin’s warning replayed in the recesses of his mind, tickling deep in his ear. Something within his core stirred; the ravenous monster waiting in shadows for Levi to fall complacent and feast on his grief. He could practically feel the buried thoughts unearth within him, bobbing around like mines waiting to explode, but Levi forcefully submerged them again.
The deeper they could go, the better.
Notes:
Well, that's about as much foreshadowing as you're going to get for what's going to come in Arc II. 😶🌫️
It's a bit of a slow chapter, but the following handful will be longer ones. (Hope no one minds). It wasn't feasible to combine chapter 12 and 13, so I left it broken up. Anyway, Levi's mutism is about to end, more obstacles are going to spring up, and we're right around the corner from the first flashback dedicated chapter for Levi's past. I'll try my best to keep up with TW's per update but I may miss some. Mind the tags.
Thank you for all the wonderful support and reviews! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate readers checking the story out. Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 13: Secrets in a Tin Can
Chapter Text
***
It wasn’t even three hours since the one-sided discussion that reality decided to test Levi’s mental fortitude.
It started innocent enough. He was returning from his bath when he realized the spare bedroom wasn't as empty as he expected. Loitering in the doorway, Levi gazed inside the barren space that was somehow considered “his”, noting that here wasn’t much to it. A full-size bed in the center with a quaint end table and a plain dresser. It was so different from the snug den of a bedroom he’d pieced together for himself when he lived with his friends. But that place wasn’t his anymore. That was a different lifetime altogether.
Erwin had helped himself inside the room while Levi was occupied, taking the moment to shut the window before sensing his presence lurking in the entrance; freshly cleaned and donning a dry set of clothes. He offered the hellhound a curt nod, then allowed his gaze to circle the room while absently dragging his fingers down the drawn curtains. There was dampness to them from the rain pelting inside, causing Levi to hide a wince at his oversight.
“I don’t mind you having the window open, but maybe not when it’s pouring outside,” Erwin chided. “And if you must do it at night, I prefer you letting me know so I can turn off the heater. It’d be better to start a fire instead to keep the house warm.”
Levi had enough sense to look berated, the embarrassment genuine. Despite keeping to the theory that Erwin had ulterior motives that weren’t altogether benevolent, he hadn’t treated Levi poorly. The opposite, in fact. The least Levi could do was not act like a rude house guest. Not until he was provoked, that was.
When that time came, fuck the curtains. He wasn’t above petty payback.
“We have a little time before Hugh Conley should be arriving. Would you care to see the rest of the house?”
Oh, right. That facilitator jackass was supposed to come by with paperwork. Apparently, his assumptions had been correct that Erwin had adopted him. What a strange concept. In another set of circumstances, it’d be an insult that he'd sneer at if he hadn’t gotten somewhat used to being owned. A sad conclusion to come to terms with, but on the positive side, there were plenty of openings for Levi to exploit to get away if push came to shove. He had yet to find a single piece of restraint that could be used to immobilized him in the house.
Best to double-check the other rooms if the opportunity was presenting itself via a tour.
With a nod, Levi stepped away from the threshold, allowing plenty of space for Erwin to pass. The reaper started by leading the way to the back door where the laundry was conjoined in the mudroom. A second deck was at the back with a bare trellis overhang, begging for some clinging vines to call it home.
“Feel free to wash your bedding however frequently you prefer. Same with your clothes once we get you your wardrobe.”
Predictably, Levi had nothing worth responding with. He was only concerned about what the new requirement of clothing would entail. Hopefully he wasn’t living with some perverse weirdo set on minimal coverage and provocative attire. So far that hadn’t been the case, but then again, he doubt three-piece-and-posh-Erwin would degrade himself to such low standards with his own apparel. The guy took pride in his image, thus what he had available was what Levi had to work with. He couldn’t say for certain if that would change.
They meandered through the corridor, already familiar with Levi’s designated space and bathroom, therefore there was no need for redundancies. Just before they reached the living room, Erwin drew to a stop at a lonely door positioned beneath the stairs. It was unassuming, and honestly Levi had guessed it was just another storage space like the one at the end of the hallway. An awkwardly shaped cubby at most where cleaning supplies could be hidden from view.
“This here is the basement.”
Basement?
Levi stiffened. Hair on the back of his neck rising.
The reaper had a basement?
Only a few feet away, Erwin was going on about how it was only partially furnished, but Levi was no longer listening. The voice was flittering away into static far above his head as the world around him narrowed to a pinprick. When the door swung open revealing a yawning maw and stairs descending into pitch, his five senses seemed to have been yanked into another dimension, leaving his body abandoned in the hallway of Erwin’s cabin.
The unyielding concrete floors of the oubliette planted him in the heart of manifested blackness, so dense that it couldn’t be penetrated despite his enhanced sight. Always dark. Always debilitating. The unrelenting cold--constantly corroding and gnawing at his bones--trying to rend his muscles free to devour. Even the fog of his breath was never visible, the caressing warmth leaving him to question what was even real.
And the noise.
When it wasn’t absolute silence and isolation, the echoes pressed in on him from aggressive feeding that leaked through the ceiling door. Gurgling, sucking, the click of teeth puncturing flesh. Muffled cries and prayers to be spared. Always mocked. Sometimes, the noises he was forced to listen to were simply theatrics: Laughter, music, keens, all swirling around the drain in his headspace. Humans moaning as they indulged in vampiric desire and grume like living out a rape fantasy. Other times, it was too—too real. Filled with sweet promises from the hemovores only to end in coppery death of their unholy Gods. And he was always powerless to stop it.
Somewhere far outside the hallucination, a voice drone onward, unaware there wasn’t an active audience.
“Hange continues to advise that I invest in grow lights down there. Primarily so she can satisfy her need for some kind of covert cultivation facility for poisonous plants.” Erwin flicked the light on, chasing away the dark as the white flash of halogens burned Levi’s sensitive eyes.
The memory tilted on its axis, shoving Levi’s senses to the opposite side of the spectrum—yet no less sanity splintering.
White walls and white bed and white everything. White lights that burned away even his shadow from existence.
White-on-white-on-white.
Down to scraps of starched boiled white meat and white rice and plastic cup of water—just enough gulps to keep him alive and conscious. Depriving his senses and infecting his sanity with putrid illusions. And if it wasn’t just the memories of the white torture that poured from the basement threshold, spreading across the ground to his bare feet, trying to reach him like overflowing currents wanting to burrow into his pores, then it was--
His back crashed into something solid just before a heated weight pressed on his shoulder. A large hand seized into his collarbone, thumb kneading into the soft tissue, searching for a tender pressure point to ground him. Finally, Levi sucked in a shaky breath and when he exhaled, his senses ricocheted back into their rightful place.
“Easy,” came Erwin’s voice from in front of him.
There was no echo tinging off the sides of the oubliette or the muteness of the white room. It was a single point of sound that tethered him to earth.
“Easy, Levi. There’s nothing here,” Erwin soothed, his hand dragging down the curve to his bicep then back up his shoulder until Levi could feel warm fingertips ghost over the skin beneath his shirt collar.
He thought he’d jerk away from the touch, but against all his instincts, his muscles relaxed in the wake of the reaper’s warmth. He could swear, from the prickles on his arm and the shiver, that the cold had followed him from his memories.
“You’re safe in the cabin. No one else is here except for you and me. We’re alone in the forest. Safe.”
Levi continued to breathe, wondering why the heaviness on his chest was there. Whether holding back the air in his lungs or the panic that nearly took over, he wasn’t sure. His eyes burned as they shot a glare at the basement door, still exposed with the light on as if an open threat, just waiting to swallow him. The heat from Erwin’s hand was suddenly scalding hot, making him dizzy from the disparate temperature. There wasn’t an ounce of ill-intent in Erwin’s promises, and which made all of it worse.
Safe.
If any part of Levi thought Erwin was lying when he said that single word, it was absent now. And that was dangerous.
He jerked out of Erwin’s hold, back scraping against the wall to regain a few feet of distance. The reaper allowed it, though his arm hovered in the air a moment longer as if grieving the loss of contact, before letting it fall loosely at his side.
What was he doing? Falling complacent around Erwin was a mistake. What if it was a trick? What if this was Erwin’s way of cauterizing all notions of escape early by getting Levi to fall into some false comfort just to rip equilibrium from him? Force obedience and dependency before it could become a problem by isolating him into the basement. Maybe he’d use it as an example for that Hugh guy to demonstrate that Erwin had the hellhound under control.
No. Levi needed to keep his wits about him. He didn’t know Erwin yet, so there was no reason to believe in artificial promises of safety. Not until he proved otherwise. Not when there was access to a room underground.
Lodged in place, Erwin raked an analyzing gaze up and down his figure, stripping him of the illusion of solitude. It unnerved Levi that he was captivated by the man’s eyes despite the invasion of scrutiny and silent judgement. Neither the white torture room nor the endlessly dark oubliette held such hues. The gaze was vibrant of life, the color of an ocean wave preparing to crest, thinning to a brighter blue and catching sunlight in the curvature.
“What triggered the reaction?” Erwin asked, breaking Levi from his staring.
He purposefully ripped his focus away from the reaper and the basement, blankly skimming the framed photos on the wall beside him.
“Was it something I said? Or was it the basement?”
The internal voice of his instincts whispered that this was not a sincere question. That Erwin was asking to push Levi and see what would happen. To test and find his own answers, not relying on the man to admit to anything truthfully. Or perhaps he was delighted in Levi’s discomfort, shelving the information away for future threats and punishments if he ever stepped out of line.
A tiny part of Levi—very small indeed—wanted to rise to the challenge. To say fuck it and go downstairs to see what possible horror awaited him in the future and prove he wasn’t bothered. It’d offer him further insight into how to get away if he could predict what was coming. Also, prove to himself that he was fine. That the sudden stroll through memory lane was just a fluke. Something he now could prepare for in the future and avoid a repeat of.
But the stronger voice—the one intent on avoiding unnecessary dangers and dedicated on surviving—couldn’t bring himself to voluntarily enter the basement. And that made the compromised stability more real in his otherwise stubborn resolve.
Levi shook his head, denying everything. Even he could tell it wasn’t a smooth motion, feeling jolting and edged with just enough control to not make it erratic.
Erwin continued to stare. The prior sympathy hardening into unrelenting evaluation. Now Levi knew the reaper was picking him apart and instinctively, his gaze skipped away to hide. They landed on an old photo on the wall by his shoulder, a perfect object to feign interest in.
It was one with Erwin, Hange, the tall wolven from the shelter, and another woman he didn’t recognize. The picture was grainy and void of color. A crease from a fold scarred diagonally on one side, across the towering man beside Erwin. Each of the people wore what looked like British military uniforms from possibly WWII, appearing not at all different from what he'd seen of them today.
He wondered if it was strange for humans who shared photographs with Supras to see the difference between their species, particularly when friendships remained the same, but only the mortals aged. Levi’s own friends would’ve looked older than him, had they still been here. Old enough to possibly pass as his parents, despite their appearances varying so starkly. He could imagine they would lean into the roles jokingly too, just to annoy and tease him.
The soft click of the door closing allowed the next breath to leave him easier. Even as Erwin stepped to Levi’s side, close but not touching, the relief for the basement topic ending was enough to keep him tolerant. A part of him disliked the gratefulness he felt for Erwin in that instance, but the trailing relief was enough to not let it linger. So, he let it go.
“That was taken just before the war ended,” Erwin granted conversationally. Levi knew he wanted to say more about what set the hellhound off, but allowed Levi his reprieve to let it lie. “After Supras were out in the open, many human governments sought to draft us into their wars. However, as declared in the Foedus Aequum, any involvement in mortal affairs would only be sanctioned if the individual did so voluntarily. My companions and I joined later in the war. We each had our reasons for doing so at the time.”
Levi continued to stare at where a younger Erwin, despite the lack of physical difference, stood in the middle, as regal as ever even in matching uniforms with pride highlighted in every hard edge of his figure. In another time, he wondered if the man ever led the charges instead of fought the preordained battles. He seemed like the type to command forces into action with iron resolve.
“I’ll show you the upstairs if you’d like. There’s not much, but I do have a loft that isn’t being used. Perhaps you could find a purpose for it.”
A long, silent exhale left Levi as he nodded. The motion felt more fluid than the previous gesture. Erwin’s insightfulness was one he hoped was earnest in nature, offering the second floor so Levi could get far from the basement. He didn't sense any ulterior motives, and the suggestion did rule out the wicked scenarios that were previously circulating his brain.
The not-so-subtle reaction was certainly stirring a slew of questions in the reaper’s mind, but with Levi’s reluctance to speak, there wasn’t much for the curiosity to go. Only so much could be answered with head gestures and Levi knew his retelling could never be diminished to that level of simplicity while still expressing the horrid images of his past. Not that he was eager to share such lovely details, but the sentiment was the same.
Perhaps one day, he’d give the memories a voice. Maybe in doing so, it would purge them from his soul and leave him empty and alone. Maybe then, he’d find some peace.
***
Not for the first time that day did Erwin think of laying a gentle hand onto Levi’s shoulders or testing what would happen if he made contact.
It was too early, he had reminded himself, still smarting from his earlier mishap of charging unannounced in the room.
Yet, when Levi had frozen in the hallway, perspiring and locked in a recollection, Erwin had done it. Without thinking of consequences, he settled his hand on the hellhound and coaxed him back to the present. And what’s more, Erwin managed to do it unscathed. His hand was intact, with no new injuries to inventory. It was a promising revelation that he hoped would bridge the chasm that Levi was determined to nurture between them.
However, Erwin knew not to read too much into the instance. The man was clearly distracted. If Erwin tried to do it again while he was cognizant, there was a strong likelihood that Erwin would not escape without repercussions a second time.
But the anticipation was building. The game had been in play since GSIS and Levi was already a promising participant. Add that to the various snippets of vulnerability leaching through Levi’s bedrock stoicism, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not offer a consoling gesture.
Still. Erwin knew that this strange... protectiveness?... was not something to lose a handle on. Just because he was feeling a sense of investment in Levi’s wellbeing did not mean his intentions would be welcomed or perceived as good. The hellhound was going to remain apprehensive for some time and it was ultimately up to Levi to set the pace of his own recovery. Either way, Erwin couldn’t help but keep a constant eye on him, even after the mediocre tour was completed.
Whether aware or not of Erwin’s attention, Levi wandered through the house wrapped in his usual distrustful cloak, examining the furniture for some sort of nefarious or ill-intended... well, Erwin didn’t know what exactly Levi was looking for. He was pretty sure the shelf of books didn’t harbor a vengeful ghoul, nor did the table lamp contain a trap to electrocute him if he touched it. Though it wouldn’t surprise Erwin if there was something cursed about the antique piano tucked in the corner. It refused to stay in tune on the A4 notes and C octave.
As he continued to observe the hellhound, he realized he was becoming deeply distracted by it. Reading each minute expression, memorizing the way Levi’s fingers timorously traced the spines of books. When Levi startled at a tassel of the rug touching his bare foot (a new texture he hadn’t anticipated) Erwin had to smother his amusement in his glass of water.
It was odd that he didn’t mind having Levi roaming in his house as such. A new presence in his space, unanticipated but with all intents of being a nearly permanent resident. Levi wasn’t grumbling or damaging anything and was rather respectful of the fixtures. He wondered pensively what it would be like when Levi started to talk, what sort of conversations they may have, what knowledge the man fostered behind his stoicism.
Unfortunately, his entertainment was cut short as the sound of an approaching engine and crunching of gravel cut through the quietness. The electronic blinds to the windows of the front of the cabin were retracted, allowing a view of a red sedan heading up the driveway. It appeared Hugh had arrived for their meeting, right on time.
Returning his attention to Levi, who was predictably rigid as he stared at the vehicle, Erwin pushed off the stool from the island and straightened his fresh cardigan of any invisible wrinkles.
“That should be Mr. Conley with the paperwork. You’re free to stay for the meeting, although I do have a stipulation that you don’t attack him while he’s here. Best to avoid further headaches than necessary, wouldn’t you agree?”
From the corner of his eye, Levi sent him with an unamused glower before turning on his heels and retreating to his bedroom. The door shut, leaving Erwin both confused and annoyed that the response was equivalent to a brooding teenager avoiding socialization.
Slow and steady. He’ll come around in time. Besides, it was probably for the best that he wasn’t present.
Going to the front door, Erwin greeted Hugh as he came up the deck steps, briefcase in hand with a folder out and ready.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Smith. I appreciate you being amendable for me dropping by.”
“Not a problem at all,” he replied cordially, closing the door behind the facilitator. “In fairness, you’ve made it convenient coming all this way.”
The man nodded absently, gaze skimming the inside of the house with a level of inspection that put Erwin on edge. Where Levi had been inquisitive and cautious, Hugh’s observation was direct and searching. It held all the intensity to be considered invasive.
Sadly, there was little Erwin could do but tolerate the prying, gesturing toward the couch. Hugh obliged to the silent guidance and sank down in the center while handing Erwin the folder.
“Lovely home you have. May I ask where 3828 is?”
“You may,” Erwin responded without looking up from the papers. He settled onto the wingback chair and crossed one leg over the other. “He’s resting in his room.”
“Resting?” The lilting tone carried the unspoken mention of the hour of the day. “I see. Is he not sleeping well?”
Erwin could feel his face try to slip into a stony hardness, but he did well to stay neutral. “It seems his exam at the training annex was strenuous and he’s still recovering from the aftermath.”
“Ah, yes. They tend to be... thorough...” Hugh adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “Speaking of the training annex, in that folder are the records of what was administered for vaccines. It’s policy to immunize any wolven admitted if no prior records were on file and, obviously, 3828 didn’t have any—”
“Levi.”
“I’m sorry?”
Erwin leaned back in the seat and laced his fingers over the folder. “His name is Levi. I’d appreciate you referring to him as such rather than a number.”
“Oh. I apologize. I didn’t want to assume you’d keep the same name. Many choose to change the name of their wolvens when adopted.”
“That’s not the case here.”
“No. I suppose not.” The man shifted in the seat, sending another quick glance around the living space, making Erwin thankful he put a jumper on to hide the fresh bite. The impression he was getting from his twitchy guest was that he was looking for something out of place. “As I was saying, due to Levi’s withdrawal from the rehab center, they are in their rights to bill you for the vaccines. If you decide to return to them for Levi’s mandatory training, they assured me that the vaccine charges would be credited toward your account during admission.”
“That’s understandable,” Erwin conceded, curiously flipping through the pages to see the bill. The laundry list of vaccines was impressive, practically filling out most of the page as if they were determined to squeeze a lifetime’s worth at once. No wonder Levi seemed sluggish that morning. If he didn’t get rest in the night, it certainly didn’t help that his immune system was dealing with all the new injections. On top of whatever sedation that the orderlies administered. He was surprised Levi wasn’t in a worse mood.
“There are some vaccines that are a series. He’ll be due for the second set in 4 weeks. I’ve also provided a list of dual-species doctors that specialize in rescue wolvens, as well as a list of training facilities,” Hugh continued to debrief. “In a year, Levi is expected to be certified from a WMC approved rehab clinic, so if none of those on the list appeal to you, you’re free to choose elsewhere. So long as they are properly accredited.”
“I’m aware of the requirements and I’ll be sure to do my research beforehand.”
Hugh nodded. “Yes. I figured you’d know most of this already. However, I should inform you that due to your circumstances being... unique, you should expect to get a call with a specific caseworker being assigned to you. They will ultimately oversee that all timelines are being met, and appropriate forms are being submitted. In addition, they may ask for a series of demonstrations before Levi is approved and a bond is put in place.”
Erwin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not understanding the significance of a caseworker. That wasn’t in the WMC adoption regulations.”
“It wouldn’t be on the general website, you’re correct. But due to Levi being a former fighter, he falls under a different addendum. Majority of fighters are usually euthanized due to excessive aggression, criminal records, or devolving into ferality. Rare circumstances, like his, require additional safety nets during the process until he’s fully rehabilitated.”
That was not what Erwin wanted to hear. As if finding a way to get Levi certified wasn’t already a herculean task, now they’d have the full attention of a caseworker tracking their progress. The same progress Erwin was hoping to skate by with a bit of clever forgery and favors to speed up his investigation into Tybur.
And then there was the obstacle of the bond between owner and wolven that he had refused to acknowledge up until then. The one usually associated with antiquated magic to link themselves together where the owner would have a level of control over the shifter. A built-in safety switch.
In no way did he see Levi agreeing to such terms. Erwin was certain he’d be eviscerated before he could even get the full explanation out.
“I had a question regarding citizenship for Levi,” he breeched, because if he was going to be served bad news, why not get right to the heart of his plans? In for a penny, in for a pound. “The research I’ve done previously was unclear of the processes for Levi to gain status of residency and naturalization. Also, how would the bond impede on that?”
Hugh didn’t answer right away, brows pinched together, pupils darting back and forth as he consolidated an answer. He was plainly confused by Erwin’s inquiry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, but wolvens that go through the shelters for adoption are commonly unable to apply for citizenship. Not without proper documentation from either a certified breeder or their own citizenship papers from birth. Some wolvens wind up on a weird path that ends up in a shelter when they were once citizens before. Or if they waived their right to liberty, usually the contracts nullify the opportunity to regain it.”
Erwin was right. More bad news. And it only brought up further societal issues that he and Levi would likely face outside of WMC programs.
It was sickening that some wolven lives were so bad that they’d forfeit their freedom to enter the system and live a life as a pet. A while ago, Mike had mentioned that many wolvens preferred their station in society as such. That they viewed it as an easy living to never worry about food or shelter or work or affording healthcare. Especially as majority of households that adopted wolves were well off financially. What was so bad with being a pet or an in-home nanny if everything else was provided?
But those lofty roles were not always so picturesque and easy. Abuse, assault, and borderline inhumane servitude were just as abundant. Hence the illegal fighting rings and the abhorrent numbers being euthanized yearly for being too unstable. The fact that wolvens would rather sell their citizenship away and take the risks truly highlighted the injustice society had divvied out to the shifters. Some struggles were not worth the cost to keep autonomy, and that was disheartening.
After letting the reaper mull the information around his mind, Hugh added, “If—and it’s a very unlikely if--Levi has prior citizenship records that did not come up during our background check, it’s a 10-year process AFTER he graduated rehab. And you’d have to apply for it as soon as possible. If you wait 5 years after Levi is certified to apply for his citizenship, then it will start at that point. So really, he’d be a companion for 15 years.”
“I understand. But is it only possible so long as he happens to have records? And if it was out of country and we managed to get them, he wouldn't have an issue applying?”
“So long as they were authentic and no criminal records attached, yes. But I want to make it clear that our background checks are very comprehensive. Even the out-of-country inquiries are treated with a fine-toothed comb. We do not condemn wolvens to be euthanized because of lazy protocols, I assure you. I would hate to get your hopes up.”
Erwin sighed, not hiding his disappointment. He wasn’t ready to give it up just yet, but it certainly wasn’t looking promising. “I’m aware it’s highly unlikely, though it would befit me to ask about it regardless.”
Hugh lingered on a stray thought, hesitating to voice it as he considered both it and Erwin. His eyes shifted, subtly taking in the peripheral of the living room and kitchen before dropping his voice as if there was someone else around.
“While we’re on the subject, in the event you managed to start the process of citizenship, there’s no shame in redacting the application after the process starts. I’ve seen many adopters begin the process out of a sense of guilt, only to regret it afterwards. You can change your mind if you prefer to keep Levi. With the bond in place, there’s little he could do to retaliate against your decision, and it happens much more often than you might expect. People get very attached to their wolvens.”
Erwin had to work hard not to do anything more than narrow his eyes at the man, equally offended at the insinuation he made as well as angry at himself for the miniscule flicker in the back of his mind that hung on it. He refused to treat Levi like that or abuse his role.
Hugh cleared his throat again when he undoubtfully noticed the chill from the glacial-edge creeping into Erwin’s stare, despite the reaper trying to tamp it down.
“Is, uh, there any other questions you had while I’m here?”
“No.”
The human shifted, fingers fidgeting over the leather wrapped handle of the briefcase in his lap. “Well, er... very well.” He stood which prompted Erwin to follow suit, ready to escort him out. “You have my number if there’s any other questions. If not, a caseworker from WMC will be in touch with you soon to start tracking Levi’s progress. Don’t be surprised if they call you in for monthly meetings due to his history.”
After final farewells--which were a stilted but amiable affair--Erwin closed the door and turned to evaluate the empty living room. The thud of the car shutting and the ignition turning over was the only sound that reached him. By the time the vehicle was departing down the gravel lane, Erwin was pinching the bridge of his nose, still standing in the entryway with a hand on his hip.
What a headache.
He hadn’t anticipated the meeting to raise even more issues that he was unaware of. It felt like those past few nights of reading Registry and WMC regulations were for naught. As if he dedicated adequate time studying for a test only to find he was still unprepared, having reviewed the wrong material.
Down the hallway, the door to the spare room opened as Levi slunk out, disquieted gaze inspecting the living space for any threats. His shoulders were drawn tight, curled ever so slightly, ready to move at the first sign of danger.
Erwin decided not to draw more attention to Levi’s wariness, not wishing to validate or encourage it.
“I assume you heard all of that?”
Levi’s response was a predictable bout of silence and watching.
“Alright,” Erwin sighed, nodding as his thoughts began to form his next steps. “I’m going to call Hange and Mike. I’ll put them on speaker, so you can hear as we go over everything. They may have more information we’re missing.”
At the very least, it’d give Levi a sense of inclusion and opportunity for a say in matters. It was his life, after all. And there was still much to discuss moving forward.
***
The laptop chimed a little tune from where it sat on the coffee table. Erwin, who was standing in the heart of the kitchen opposite Levi, frowned at the interruption. Setting the phone down on the island, he circled to the living room, not paying much attention as Levi tracked him in the seat with his missile-like stare.
Levi watched as Erwin opened the screen and lifted the device, but from there it was purposefully hidden by his broad frame.
“Hange, did you not read the text? I said a group call, not video.”
“Well, hello and greetings to you, Ervy. And no—I didn’t really pay attention to it, I mean I saw it but didn’t read it. Anywho, I figured a video call would be better. I don’t get to see you enough, and Mike said your contract is closing for the case. Just let me see that handsome face again before you disappear for months!”
“I still have to go into the office to debrief with Shadis, so you’ll see me soon. Now get off.”
“But why?”
“Because I think the discussion will be better over the phone.”
“But how?” Hange’s voice continued to whine, dragging out the words like a toddler.
Levi wrinkled his nose, wondering if his earlier speculation that the vampire was losing her sanity was true. There had to be treatment for it, surely. Perhaps, that should’ve been the core focus for Erwin to research instead of this WMC crap. Levi was certain his own issues paled in comparison to hers, especially when she was running loose in the city. It seemed irresponsible to allow her so much freedom. Was no one worried for the citizens?
“Hange,” Erwin repeated with all the drenched weight of exasperation. “We don’t know the extent of Levi’s dislike for vampires, and I’d rather not have my laptop be reduced to something tossed through a woodchipper.”
Lifting a brow, the hellhound was beginning to think he was the only sane one here. The reaper was aware that Levi could hear him, right?
“Wha?” Hange’s voice dimmed to something conspirator. “You think he would go that far?”
“I’d rather not chance it. Now goodbye. Answer the phone call.”
There was a click of a key, and the laptop returned to its place on the table, far from reach.
“I apologize for her.” Erwin returned to his somewhat self-designated place around the island, keeping the barrier between him and Levi. “She’ll take some time to get used to, but she means well.”
Debatable.
Levi didn’t necessarily hold anything against the batshit crazy woman for things outside of her control. It wasn’t her fault if her age and genetics eroded over time. Living centuries and experiencing so much took a toll on one’s body and mentality. What he wasn’t keen on was primarily due to her species and lifestyle, but he wasn’t heartless enough to judge her for battered sanity. Just everything else she potentially did; victims she drank from, past crimes committed... The usual vampire tendencies.
It took little time for Erwin to make the call and for Hange and a man named Mike to answer. Apparently, the latter was the individual that had been with Erwin during the first couple meetings in the shelter and Levi recalled he was a towering figure. Had marked him as a threat at the time, but not significant enough to be concerned about when there was vampire in Levi’s vicinity and bars hindering them.
The phone call was put on speaker and set on the counter between him and Erwin, allowing the voices to fill the kitchen with a new sense of liveliness. To say Levi wasn’t looking forward to hearing more of WMC protocols was an insulting understatement. Having listened to Hugh explain the mandatory training and his recollection of what Erwin had pulled him from at the annex was enough to churn thoughts of escaping once more. It wasn’t like he was ever intending to stick around. Not long enough for it all to matter, anyway. He only needed to gather enough strength and preparation to find Tybur.
Even now, as he sat on the stool with his forearms perched on the counter, Levi continued to dwell on it. Perhaps he could sneak out the window in the middle of the night. There hadn’t been any traps or sentries he’d seen during their excursion on the property, and he knew Erwin was sleeping on the couch in the living room, so that voided the use of the front door as an option. If Levi set a solid pace, he could be deep into the closest mountain range before Erwin successfully reported his escape. The downside was that then, Levi would be tasked with finding where Tybur was. While reducing the steps as a mental to-do list was one thing, carrying it out was another when he didn’t even know where to start. What direction was the city? And where the hell was Tybur’s mansion located?
Unfortunately, that wasn’t even the largest hurdle Levi needed to keep in mind. As Erwin had mentioned, there’d be search parties out for him if he left, so trying to sustain his strength while hunting and avoiding recapture was enough of a bad gamble to keep Levi compliant during the phone call. Not to mention, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be with Erwin until he was ready. For all he knew, he may have to suck it up to get through the training if it meant finally completing his goal.
Nevertheless, that didn’t change the fact that he’d rather be anywhere else than here, listening about his shitty circumstances.
“Is he on the line?” Hange’s voice broke through his thoughts after Erwin had greeted his companions.
“Yes, he’s here.”
“Hi Levi! I hope you’re settling in well!”
“Hey, man,” was the heavier voice of the perceived wolven. Levi recalled just how much mass Mike carried over him, how significant an opponent he would be if they were ever paired in the fighting pits. Between his build and natural strength, the man would’ve posed a serious problem for Levi. “We didn’t get a chance to talk during our first meeting, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Miraculously, the interaction kept getting worse. There was no telling what was said about him, but he doubt it consisted of praise.
Levi considered fleeing to his room.
After an awkward pause which he declined to fill with even a grunt of acknowledgement, Erwin thankfully took the lead. It was a short summary, sprinkled with a few sidebars of filling in various details from each person in the discussion based on their experience and individual research. Levi didn’t have many expectations going into the call, thus when majority of the conversation was followed with rationale from Hange, he wasn’t bludgeoned by disappointment.
“Yes, I did see that there were additional addendums, but I haven’t read through all of them yet,” Hange admitted. “It wouldn’t surprise me that what Hugh mentioned is true, which means it’s highly unlikely, but not impossible, for Levi to earn his citizenship.”
Mike’s voice followed, hinting that he was under a different impression. “You think there’s another avenue to explore?”
“Possibly. If Levi isn’t a typical wolven, there may be a loophole in the phrasing we can exploit.”
Typical wolven, huh?
Levi wondered what exactly they speculated about him. Obviously, they had their suspicions he wasn’t a loup-garou, which given the few errors in revealing his party trick, it was to be expected. The evidence as such was all but reaffirmed by Erwin’s looming stare currently glued to him. As it was becoming a habit, Levi pretended he didn’t notice.
Seriously, what was this guy’s deal? Even if Levi wasn’t meeting his gaze, choosing to look over his shoulder or anywhere else in the kitchen, he could feel the attention viscerally. If the reaper was searching for validation from him, he’d be disappointed. Erwin would just have to accept Levi’s countenance instead, which was nestled somewhere between annoyed and dismissive.
“Well, until we know for sure,” Mike sighed, unaware of the silent cat and mouse game taking place in the kitchen, “you two will need to focus on going through the steps as intended. Best to prepare for worse case, you know?”
“I’m aware,” Erwin admitted, sounding about as reluctant as Levi felt as he finally looked away, “So, what do you suggest?”
“The first year is what will make or break it, so until we find something useful, I’d focus on that. If Levi attacks someone—outside of the rehab center—they’ll kill him. Even at the facility, their tolerance will only go so far. If it’s a bite or a scratch in the first two weeks or so, they’ll usually address it by changing routines or methods. If it’s been a month and he does it... unfortunately, they’ll deem that a reason to terminate him. And given that you were a fighter prior to this, Levi, they may not be lenient over the first offense at all. There’s many wolvens with a cleaner past that need to be placed in homes. At the end of the day, they’ll just swap you in the program with another.”
And there it was.
Levi knew this was a shit topic. If his future ‘training’ consisted of any similar methods as the last one, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to refrain from lashing out. And that referred to the orderlies in general—not including the vampires. His self-control may be better than most, but it wasn’t ironclad. Naturally it sustained cracks in his armor which could be exploited to let something enraged slip through.
Case and point... Levi’s eyes bounced fleetingly to Erwin’s bandaged forearm across from him.
If he didn’t figure out a plan to get to Tybur before the clinic, he was fucked.
Then, that revelation brought the question of what these trainings actually entailed. From his little introduction to the entry examination, he had no basis to judge what the entire process was from start to finish. More torture? More white rooms? More sedations? Would they subject him to some form of brainwashing? Treat him like a dog? They already had leashes and muzzles for fuck’s sake.
Hange was the next to speak, somber and serious. “Sorry about all of this, Levi. We’re not trying to sound apathetic about the circumstances and trust me when I say none of us support the WMC regulations. It’s not right, and the fact you’ll be under further scrutiny is disheartening. But sadly, what Mike said is true. We’ll try to find a way to minimize any unnecessary exposure with the training facilities, but you and Erwin need to prepare for it all the same in the event we don’t find anything.”
Erwin hummed across from him. Half-heartedly, Levi lifted his eyes, holding the reaper’s steady stare as he addressed him directly.
“You won’t be going through this alone. Regardless of what happens, this is a team effort. If we don’t find anything to waive or shorten the training mandates, you and I can research all the facilities and try to find the best fit with minimal exposure. At the end of the day, it’s a game of faking it and playing the part just to get the certificate. We only need to make it feel convincing to the Registry.”
Was Erwin under some delusion that Levi was capable of acting? It seemed overly presumptuous if you asked him. Far too much credit was being dished out to Levi when he knew his bullshitting skills were subpar at best.
Mike, having sensed previously that Levi would not be breaking his silence anytime soon, added his input. “It’s a lot to take in, I get it. But you’re in good hands. Erwin has no intentions of owning you like you may think. Adopting was the only option he had to get you out of the last annex and provide more time. It’s all a ploy that us shifters must play to appease the government, but what happens outside of the performance is between you. Erwin is a good guy. He’ll do what he can to keep you safe.”
Levi’s gaze anchored to his fingers over the counter, flicking the tip of his nails against one another. He could feel Erwin’s stare was back, boring into him like a physical presence, but his thoughts were drifting elsewhere.
Safe. There was that damn word again. As if he needed some form of protection. As if he was afraid of something else out there, lurking. What a joke. These people plainly had the wrong impression of him.
Oh, yeah? That so? The dark internal monologue tickled in his ear like a sinister whisper, dead breath scratching at his nape. You think you’re fit to take on federal organizations with tooth and claw? Like your will is strong enough to conquer any opponent, physical or ideal? If anything, you sound like the joke here.
Levi gritted his molars together, pressing his nails into the pad of his fingertips to chase the cruel thoughts away.
“There is something else,” Erwin eventually went on to say, having allowed Levi some time to chew on the information thus far. When Levi reluctantly looked at the reaper through his lashes, the grim frown was all he received as preparation for the next topic. “Upon completing the training, current protocol requires wolvens to be subjected to a bond being put in place, between them and the designated owner.”
Levi stiffened in his seat, but otherwise kept his reactions folded inside. He was aware of old magic that tied people together, along with mating bonds between pairs in different species. But this was not the same. He knew that. He knew it wasn’t. Yet, any further details were beyond his expertise.
Before his stint with Tybur, his life was modest with his companions. Hidden and tucked away from the rest of the world and politics, doing what they did best and surviving. Prospering. Living not just for the sake of living, but to explore and establish themselves in whatever corner of the earth they picked together. It was charmingly secluded from things like enforced bonds and rehabilitation and governments.
He hated that he was ignorant of what a bond in that context meant, though. Evidently there was a severity to the topic that he failed to fully comprehend, because if the stricken figure before him was any indication, it was that the bond was not to be taken lightly. And the proposition of being tied to the reaper? That would certainly impede his personal plans. In another time, the thought would thoroughly repulse him, but when Levi’s entire goal was acuminated on Tybur’s death and nothing more, it did little to flip any personal alarms.
He had no other ambitions in his life aside from the vampire’s death. His own mortality meant little beneath his wrath’s encompassing shadow. He could perish the following day, and so long as Tybur was dead too, he wouldn’t care. There was nothing else he could scrounge to justify living for, so who cared about the bond.
“We can discuss it more in detail later between us,” Erwin supplied after a pause, sensing Levi retreating inward with his grim thoughts. “It’s definitely not the time for it now when we have other things we should address first.”
How foreboding. That’s not at all a concerning statement, Levi mused dryly.
It wasn’t much longer before the conversation died between Erwin and the others. Having their designated tasks to investigate, Erwin hung up the phone and pushed it to the side, as if its presence was a troublesome barrier between him and Levi.
“First of all, Levi, I want to reiterate that I do not support the process of these laws. Mike is my best friend, and I have many wolvens who I’m close to. That said, I respect you, and the only reason I’m entertaining WMC to begin with is to keep you out of the system.”
Why though?
Levi felt his brows pinch together as crescents dug into his palms. He wanted to voice his question, knowing it would carry a bite to it with provocation. Enough ire to finally needle the answer out of the reaper.
Why was Erwin doing this? Why was Levi here? What did he want from him? They said it was to keep him out of the system, but what about the others left behind? What made Levi of such interest to pull him from the annex in the name of adoption?
If Erwin was such a good guy, where was the proof? The fact he hadn’t done anything to Levi in the last 24 hours? That was hardly a milestone.
All these questions were lined up and ready in his arsenal, but Levi’s tongue was stuck on the roof of his mouth, his voice refusing to surface from its padlocked box in his throat. Even as he worked his jaw to loosen its hold, the sounds wouldn’t take shape, couldn’t be pushed past his lips. Meanwhile, Erwin continued to watch him, waiting for something as Levi did all he could to not fidget in his seat restlessly.
“You have questions.” A simple statement that struck the center of Levi’s dilemma.
He nodded.
Erwin mirrored it.
“There’s certainly more to everything, as I’m sure you’re aware of. So...” he took a breath, building up for something important, “... while I sympathize with your situation, Levi, I cannot claim its entirely selfless.”
Erwin pinched a stray hair from his jumper sleeve, internally navigating how he wanted to continue. For now, it was Levi’s turn to wait patiently, even as he scowled at the hair being dropped to the kitchen floor.
“What everything comes down to—what started this between us since the shelter, has been my investigation into Lord Willy Tybur.”
Levi blinked, feeling his heart miscalculate a thump in his chest before resuming at an elevated pace. While he knew Tybur was a source of interest for Erwin, hearing the vampire’s full name and title jarred his inner calibration.
Rather than linger, the reaper trudged on with his reasoning, having revealed his cards, thus was committed to the clarification before Levi could fully react.
“I don’t know the extent of your relationship with him—and I use that term lightly—but through my interaction with Tybur, I’ve developed a firm reason to believe that he’s involved in illegal activities; Proxy-fighting notwithstanding. There’re indications that he’s behind a series of recent murders and has the intentions and means to continue hurting more people.”
Indication? What a poorly chosen word. Levi could guarantee the vampire had more than an indication. The asshole craved power in all forms and always found ways to dominate over other lives. He got off on asserting himself above lesser beings and schmoozing with those he considered equals.
Narcissistic. Sadist. And a creature that was never truly satiated.
“If Tybur is guilty of what I’m suspecting, I intend to bring him in. He can’t be allowed to continue as he has unchecked...” Erwin trailed off, tilting his head enough to connect with Levi’s staring over his shoulder. Once he was sure Levi wouldn’t look away, he propositioned, almost shyly, “I’d appreciate it if you’re willing to help me with the investigation, and in exchange, I swear to keep you away from WMC shelters. You’ll be taken care of here for as long as necessary, with freedom to treat this place as your home. Everything we do would be as a team moving forward, and while it won’t be pretty at times, I know we can get past it.”
Levi stared. And stared. No matter how many times he replayed what Erwin offered, he found himself stuck in place. Here he’d been entirely focused on his own desires for revenge, he never considered someone else setting their sights on Tybur as well. Someone who was willing to side with Levi—as least, where his word was concerned. The statement to ‘bring him in’ left the unspoken ‘alive’ attached to it, which did indeed clash with Levi’s intentions--And they were firm, unyieldingly rigid intentions he carried.
But aside from that tiny detail, whether what Levi could confirm was of use to Erwin with his official constraints was another story. He severely doubt a ‘wolven pet’ used as a witness against the defendant would hold any value in what he had to validate or deny. It was worse than a “he said, she said” scenario and any statement the hellhound provided would be laughed out of court—even Levi knew that. What proof did he have other than a lowly station where he’d clearly developed a so-called toxic grudge? Any mediocre lawyer could spin his claims into something unreliable and emotionally driven rather than factual. He could hear it now, "Wolven-mutt is only trying to bite the hand that fed him."
Fucking ridiculous.
And yet, despite knowing that, Erwin was eager to give Levi the time of day to listen to him. To take his word as trustworthy and support it against the prestigious coven leader. It made Erwin’s earlier comment about respecting him ring with sincerity, and an unexpected lightness surged through Levi, feelingly airy and warm. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought—at least, where the vampire was concerned.
“Having said that,” Erwin resumed, pressing against the edge of the island, subtle but closer to Levi in a way to not raise immediate concern, “I won't continue with this path regarding WMC any further if you are not equally committed to it. It’s not the type of decision that can be changed halfway through; thus, it would require both of our efforts to be convincing.”
Erwin’s fingers twitched where they rested on the marbled counter, as if they yearned to reach out but refrained. Levi’s eyes flickered briefly to the movement, wondering if it was merely an innocent spasm or if Erwin was holding back from something that might otherwise worry him. Instead of hanging on the thought, Levi once more met the intense eye contact where something twinkled just out of reach from identifying. The closest thing Levi could name would be satisfaction.
“Don’t feel like you have to answer right away, but please consider what I’m offering. If my suspicions regarding Tybur are correct, I truly believe we can do a lot of good together. And even if it’s early, I think staying here would be beneficial to you in the long run. It’d be equally your home as it is mine and we can work on building your life back.”
Well, that was... unexpected. All of it was a lot to take in. Erwin’s investigation led to Levi, who enraptured the reaper enough to pull some adoption scheme at the last minute, then he revealed he was targeting the same man Levi was.
Now he promised partnership. And a home. All things that could be a tactic to fool Levi, but even the usual skepticism didn’t ring true to him. If it was a lie, it was a good one. A falsehood that Levi couldn’t actually make out the edges of, which made it difficult to not believe the reaper.
As the men stared, something surreal began to filter in Levi's lower peripheral. Not exactly visible, but shimmering like a haze, or a shape moving beyond frosted glass. A metaphysical golden thread slowly extended like gossamer between them, hovering over the counter, trembling with each breath. From once second to the next, the illusion flickered like a candle's flame against an enemy breeze. It was all tensile strength and fragility, silk woven with luminous precision, inching out and braiding in on itself, growing stronger as each second passed--
Then the rumble from Levi’s stomach snapped the thread where it hovered like a spider's line before disappearing in the next second. The connection duly broken. Levi dropped his eyes sharply in an effort to push the foreign wayward feelings away.
What the hell was that? Was he starting to lose it?
Across from him, Erwin huffed distantly, sounding disheartened and yet beguiled.
“We missed lunch, didn’t we?” From Levi’s peripheral, he could see Erwin move away from the island, distancing himself now from the discussion, the staring. “How does an early dinner sound?”
***
Erwin was finishing up their supper when he glanced at the clock. Levi had retreated shortly after he began consolidating the remains of his ingredients together, shutting himself in the guest bathroom. The water indicated the man was taking his second bath of the day, which was excessive, but Erwin didn’t dare bring it up. If it helped Levi feel more comfortable, then so be it. It wasn’t like he needed to worry about water bills increasing when his property was sourced by a well. Not that he was necessarily frugal either, having a modest lifestyle—custom suits aside.
Despite that, the meal was nearly finished, and Levi had yet to emerge. For a while, he turned down the stove and debated whether to go knock on the door—knock this time—or allow Levi his space. The day had been eventful, in its own way. Between the rude awakening, the walk in the rain, Hugh showing up for the debrief, and finally having his circumstances laid bare on the table. The man was probably busy compartmentalizing it all and debating what to do moving forward.
Erwin hoped that Levi would see reason and agree to the plan. Not only for the sake of learning about Tybur’s activities, but also due to Erwin’s hands being tied when it came to Levi’s situation. If Levi had any degree of Stokholm Syndrome or captive bonding with Tybur, he would be labeled as unreliable for a source moving forward. Not to mention, Levi would not likely cooperate with any rehabilitation facilities if there was no motivation to stay with Erwin.
As a result, that would leave Erwin with two options. Either stick it out and keep Levi in hopes he’d eventually came to his senses. Or return him to the shelter and wish him the best. Of course, there was the third option of allowing Levi to escape and conveniently turn the other way, but the number of consequences they would face were not exactly something he was willing to entertain. Lethal measure would be applied if Levi resisted recapture and Erwin could suffer a fine, damage to his reputation, or be denied future adoption of another wolven. Not that he ever intended on adopting another being, but look at Levi. It was never supposed to come to that in the first place, and yet here he was.
Sighing, Erwin hoped Levi would be reasonable and see sense. Because the fourth option was not any more or less appealing—but it did benefit Erwin’s goals.
Like the first scenario, he could keep Levi, however instead of waiting patiently for him to agree on his own terms, Erwin would manipulate the circumstances to his favor. What he did, or didn’t do to convince Levi would be a litmus test. A canary in a coal mine. A sly shove into the deep end of the pool. A necessary evil.
But exploitation came with consequences. And frankly, Erwin cared very little to use Levi in that manner to force compliance for his objectives. If he did, then he was no better than Tybur at the end of the day. So, truthfully, it was down to option one or two. Either choice made was for Levi to decide and Erwin to respect.
After plating the meals and setting the glasses of water down, he began washing his hands at the sink. Erwin was just about to swallow his indecisiveness to let Levi know food was ready, when he heard the bathroom door finally open.
Ah. Perfect.
“Good timing,” he commented, putting a pan under the running water to let it soak. Turning the faucet off, he reached for the towel to dry his hands, rotating to greet Levi, but what he was prepared to say next about dinner died on his tongue at the sight before him.
Apparently, Levi had, at some point, helped himself to Erwin’s own bathroom without him noticing. Which was concerning, to say the least—though not something the reaper could bring himself to regret at that moment.
Now, to make it clear, Erwin had crossed the paths of many in his years on earth, as relationships amongst Reapers were just as common as any other species. There was always a stigma that they were cold and apathetic creatures, never viewing companionship as anything more than a novelty. However, many found pleasure in warm flesh and honeyed affection, as Reapers were more empathetic than most outsiders gave them credit for.
Vampire covens were commonly close in ways of having unabashed touches amongst their kindred even when mere acquaintances. Wolvens naturally had pack mentalities and passed messages along through touch and physical actions. Humans always sought intimacy and acceptance between friends, family, and lovers. Very few individuals were truly reclusive. Reapers were no different.
While Erwin had indulged with many others that happened to catch his eye, it’d been some time since one stirred a festering itch in his chest as the man before him achieved.
Dark hair hung freshly trimmed around his temple like the wave of spilt ink in midair. The underside was closely shaven, lending a tapering view down a thin, pale nape to strong shoulders that were decidedly male. Beneath the oversized shirt with his lithe frame, Levi helped himself to an old pair of Erwin’s plaid pajama pants that pooled around his feet completely, where Erwin could just see the tips of his toes beneath the folds.
With the loose hair cut away, the man’s face was delicate in the sharp-edged jaw what had Erwin reconfirming his suspicions from the holding cells: Levi did resemble a French vision. Then there were his eyes, cleared from the scruffy overgrown bangs. Pools of pure mercury that were like the wolven counterparts, too bright and a little too large of an iris to be mistaken for human.
Erwin’s blatant, drawn-out staring did not go unnoticed by Levi, whose posture went taunt. Suspecting something was behind him, a growl built up in his throat while looking down at the hall he came from. But when he saw nothing and sent a questioning look at Erwin, the reaper realized his error.
Hastily, he collected his shattered composure, clenching his molars once to rearrange himself. Erwin opened his mouth to say something, halted, then cleared his throat. “I apologize. I hadn’t expected you to come out with a haircut. You... It looks nice. I’m sure you feel much better.”
That wasn’t bad, right? Enough to salvage his faux pas, hopefully.
Levi visible relaxed, although the expression that smoothed over his features was unreadable. An awkwardness began to blanket over the room, which Erwin methodically directed the interaction toward starting in on their food before it got cold. An easy barricade from the strangeness of the exchange.
Thankfully, the rest of the meal continued peacefully. Erwin sprinkled in some idle, one-sided chatter between them that was reciprocated in huffs or nods. Levi’s manners had somewhat returned, where he wasn’t scarfing down the food with reckless abandonment, though he continued to huddle over the dish protectively. Erwin continued to pretend he didn’t notice.
When they finished, he resumed the routine of washing dishes and pans, vainly aware of Levi sipping his glass of water at the counter behind him. When the man finished, he surprised the reaper by breeching the kitchen border only to linger near the refrigerator, watching as Erwin washed a plate and set it on the drying rack.
Sending a quick glance in the corner of his eye toward Levi, Erwin grabbed the next dish, pretending to not detect the way Levi awkwardly shuffled in place. The glass was cradled in his hands, obviously wanting to deliver it to him, but hesitant to cross the space to reach the sink.
Despite Erwin’s previous decision not to indulge in testing Levi, he couldn’t help but make an exception by not moving from his current position. While the shorter man was leery of his personal bubble being poked at by the reaper, Levi certainly wasn’t what he’d classify as frightened or anxious. As proof, he could see the wheels turning in Levi’s head, measuring Erwin to determine the danger he posed and likely how to counter any reaction on his part if he got close. A fighter tallying potential openings and ways to spin the odds in his favor. Inevitably, always one to face challenges head on it seemed, Levi stepped near enough to place the glass in the stainless-steel basin by the reaper’s forearm. Pleased with the result, Erwin rewarded him with a gratifying smile, even as Levi took a couple steps away in retreat.
That was little more progress between them. Promising.
Then—as if the clever man sensed Erwin’s game--Levi decided to up the ante a little more and grabbed the drying towel to work on the plates already on the counter. A dare perhaps?
Erwin had to desperately remind himself not to make a big deal about it and take it in stride, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated it. Was Levi challenging Erwin back? Testing his own boundaries or trying to provoke another embarrassing reaction? If so, Erwin would need to temper his thoughts better behind his controlled mask. He doubt revealing his attraction--it wasn't really attraction, more like appreciation for how well he cleaned up-- to the man would help Levi feel settled in the home, nor encourage him to agree to Erwin’s proposal.
However, the more he observed in his peripheral, the more he speculated it was Levi’s way of making up for what he assumed was taking advantage. Possibly feeling like the care was being wasted on him in some capacity, if the sullen scowl was anything to go by. It wasn’t the act of helpfulness that drove Levi to assist with the chore, but guilt.
That needed to be addressed at another time. For now, they fell into a steady rhythm of cleaning the kitchen together. Erwin washed the pans and set them on the rack where Levi would work on clearing it. Small directions were given as to where the plates were to go, which Levi diligently followed. Replacing the dishes and returning for more.
For a while there, it was rather domicile and pleasant. Erwin lived alone for most of his life, the longest intimate companionship being his engagement with the fellow reaper, Marie. That was before their situation turned ugly and she left him for Nile. A sour period of his life that he wasn’t wanting to reflect on too deeply, although the point of it was that he hadn’t considered how much he missed having another soul fill his home. Someone to move around and close doors to what would otherwise be a silent structure if he wasn’t the one doing it. Absently, he allowed himself to consider a future of where Levi would agree to the ruse of adoption, sharing his kitchen and his home. The domesticity of it all.
Unaware of Erwin's musing, Levi grabbed the two glasses to put away in the cabinet which the reaper gestured to, quietly continuing the easy pattern. Erwin rotated to finish rinsing out the empty sink, squeezing the sponge out to put in the draining dish. Just as he turned the faucet off, he caught sight of Levi, paused in mid-observation at the item in his hands. A simple a square tin.
It was a new expression on his face. Pinched with something that seemed to muddle his thoughts and puzzle him. At first, Erwin assumed Levi was confused over the contents inside, which didn’t sit right with the reaper. Levi had proven he could read, so the contents weren’t exactly a mystery. Or maybe he was judging Erwin’s choice of cabinet usage, keeping spare coffee filters and such next to his mugs rather than in a pantry with other food and drink items. His bachelor lifestyle was stationed more for convenience than practicality and had been the subject of mocking by Nanaba in the past. But upon closer inspection, it was clear that wasn’t the case.
Levi’s grip on the tin was unyielding and he held it rather close to his chest as if reunited with an old childhood toy. His thoughts were unreadable, and Erwin swore that his eyelashes looked damp, even as Levi’s throat bobbed. A swallow as if trying to shove something down before it could surface.
And then came the biggest surprise.
“... Do... Do you mind-if I have some?”
Levi’s voice... was deeper than he expected. Gravely and hoarse with disuse but still carried a sonorous note that draped across Erwin. It was dense, had potential to be rather smooth like a rich port wine. A sort of capability to sound velvety beneath the unforgiving gruffness which was jagged upon delivery. And what was most surprising was that it lacked confidence that contradicted Levi’s actions up to that point. Uncertain on what to expect now that he'd spoken, breaking the seal of his mutism.
Erwin took a moment, drinking in his question, memorizing the slight resonant timbre that may or may not have a hidden drawl underneath. When Levi’s eyes lifted to meet him, Erwin remembered he needed to answer.
Don’t make a big deal about it.
“Sure. Of course. Help yourself. I’ll get the kettle.”
Ok. Not the smoothest transition for Erwin. He really was lacking in his usual charisma whenever Levi did something unexpected. But how was he supposed to know?
A tin of tea leaves.
That’s what got Levi talking. Erwin felt he was teeming with questions as he glided about the kitchen, plucking out two mugs and fishing out the kettle stuffed in the deep recessing of a low cabinet.
With the water boiling, Erwin decided he wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity to join Levi in that indulgence, even if he was primarily a coffee drinker himself. The tea had been part of a gift basket from his neighbor that Erwin had not thrown out. More from laziness than any anticipation of partaking in the future. He'd completely forgotten about it, to be honest. The tin had merely become a part of the backdrop amongst the coffee filters and beans. An odd thing to be grateful for, but good job, Past Erwin. Laziness did occasionally pay off.
After the water boiled and the tea steeped, Erwin grabbed both mugs and tilted his chin toward the living room. Levi followed, watching as Erwin set one cup down on the coffee table before he sunk into the armchair. When it was deemed safe, Levi orbited the couch before settling into the cushions, lifting the mug and inhaling the herbal steam.
The minutes dragged by. Levi sipped the tea, savoring each taste as if it changed from one moment to the next, constantly keeping his hands embracing the porcelain like a delicate bird that would fly away if he wasn’t careful. Not once did he even bother with the handle, unlike Erwin whose burn on his palm was still sensitive to odd temperatures.
As Erwin sampled the flavored water, he observed the man over the rim of his cup, noting how Levi seemed sucked into a different plane of existence. Trekking paths only he knew in his own mind, strolling through muses that didn’t revolve around the fighting pit, vampires, WMC regulations, or the strange Reaper whose home he was in. It was as if nothing else mattered in the world but that single cup of tea. A conundrum that Erwin was aching to learn more about.
Instead, however, he decided to take a different approach. One that he hoped would coax a continuation of the rare gift he just witnessed rather than entice it to end.
“I still have that grocery run I have to do, which I can get done sometime tomorrow. Would you like me to pick up different teas for the cabinet?”
Erwin meant to phrase it in an open-ended question instead of giving Levi an out by gesturing with his head. Thankfully—by some strange grace of fate—Levi surprised him again.
Meeting his eyes from across the living room, he retracted the steaming mug from his lips, peering at Erwin through the curling whisps. “I’d like that.”
And Erwin suddenly felt that a new page was finally turning.
He’d get Levi a whole variety of teas.
Notes:
TW: Very mild PTSD episode.
White torture: a form of psychological torment where the victim wears white clothing and sealed in a soundproof room for days to weeks where everything is painted white, including the food that's provided. By denying the brain access to color, the victims of the torture are quickly driven to the brink of madness which is often commenced with both visual and auditory hallucinations.
😅 Erwin may be a tad obsessive at times, and Levi is still trying to get a read on the man. But all that aside, things are starting to come together a little more. However, in true annoying fashion, I think it's time for a wrench to enter the mix. Don't worry. It's only a small one. As for Levi's episodes, we're easing into them. They will get exponentially worse. 🥺
Thank you everyone for checking the story out! I hope you're still enjoying it, especially as we get to have a new level of interaction between Levi and Erwin with dialogue! We'll see how Erwin handles Levi's occasional bratty comments XD
Until next time, take care and stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 14: Open Contract
Notes:
TW: Gruesome details of crime scenes and morbid imagery in general.
Also, this is basically 2 chapters in 1 so hope you enjoy the lengthy read! It’s got a bit of everything in it. XD
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
As Erwin came to find out, a new page turning was a foolishly optimistic view. And he already had his opinion on those.
Apparently, Fate thought it would be humorous to mock the reaper because the following morning brought an uninvited change to the cabin. A miasmic cloud had seeped through the floorboards with all the portents of a strenuously bad day.
While he wasn’t barging in on Levi’s slumber and getting bitten, he still found himself at the guest room door, pounding on it urgently to wake Levi up. When the panicked yelling continued from the other side, he risked mortal injury and rushed in to find Levi thrashing under the covers in his human form. His eyes were blown wide, seeing invisible manifestations within shadows, and crying out for someone who wasn’t there.
Someone named Izzy.
Erwin tried to calm him down by daringly--or stupidly—reaching out to touch Levi’s shoulder, causing the man to jerk back into the headboard. When his flailing persisted, batting Erwin’s hands away in a frantic whirlwind of limbs, Erwin half climbed onto the mattress to get a better grip on his arms.
“Levi! You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”
When that also failed to soothe the writhing man, earning the reaper a few painful collisions with fists to get him away, Erwin seized his jaw to force Levi to look at him. That finally hooked the hellhound out of his semi-awake panic attack, enough to lessen his retaliation to something more hesitant.
“Come back, Levi. It’s ok.”
Erwin’s grip softened as he cupped Levi’s cheek with one hand, the other brushing sweaty bangs from his forehead. Clammy, thin fingers curled around Erwin’s wrist but didn’t push him away, merely clutched tight to use him as an anchor.
“You’re safe here,” he muttered delicately. The hand not cupping Levi’s cheek continued to rake through his hair. “You’re with Erwin Smith. In a cabin, far away in the woods where no one else is around. It’s just us.”
When the glazed eyes finally—finally--sharpened into the present and onto him, Erwin froze, waiting for Levi to lash out at their unwarranted proximity. He could feel the moist stuttering breath across his face, the quiver vibrating up his arms from where they maintained contact. There was no way he would allow Erwin to go unscathed a second time. Not when the reaper was violating his personal space so intimately.
But shockingly, no blood or bites came. Only a distressed shifter with knees being pulled to his chest while appearing utterly brittle in the oversized pajamas. Despondent and pliable to Erwin’s tender grasps, barely cognizant of his surroundings.
Erwin hastily wrapped him up in a blanket and declared he’d make him some tea as he retreated from the room. Then he grabbed his own blanket from the couch and tossed it into the dryer to warm it while the kettle was on. By the time it started whistling for his attention, he plucked it off the stove right as Levi crept out of the hall to stand beside the island.
The blanket stayed fixed over him, drowning out his frame. He was still shaken and distraught, appearing smaller than the day before in the way he curled into his shoulders and avoided eye contact. Under the dim kitchen light, the man seemed paler than normal, washed out by his internal hauntings, making his eyes dark with sunken crescents beneath.
Erwin found it wholly discomforting, putting him further on edge when struggling to tread this new, uncharted territory. Even if Levi had only a tremor that worked through his muscles, a rattled shifter was still an unpredictable one. He much preferred the ill-tempered glaring man than this unsettled, flighty creature.
Tapping into some foreign nurturing skillset (which he speculated he lacked the qualifications for), Erwin steeped the tea and instructed the shifter to get comfortable as he disappeared into the laundry room. When he emerged, he saw Levi had not listened to him--as usual--and was instead standing guard over the mugs of tea, waiting like a protective gargoyle over his wards. Had the flustering, morning wake-up not previously taken place, Erwin would’ve found humor in it. Sadly, that was not the case, thus he was far from amused. Rather than reprimanding the shifter on his selective hearing, he held open the blanket, preparing Levi for what he was going to do.
“Here. I think this’ll make you feel better. My father used to do it for me whenever I had night terrors.”
Although Levi tensed and kept a wary eye trained on each movement he made, shifting to partially face the reaper, he allowed Erwin to wrap the warm blanket over the one already in place. The dryer had effectively heated the fleece, cocooning Levi in its own embrace that encouraged the stiffness to melt from his spine.
Marking that as a personal success, Erwin then managed to usher Levi onto the sofa while reassuring him that he would get the tea. But just as he was turning to retrieve the mugs, he happened to witness Levi pulling the edge of the warmed blanket to his nose to sniff it.
Odd. Did Erwin smell?
He didn’t think so, and he had washed those blankets the day prior before he slept under them. Maybe it was a shifter thing. Mike certainly couldn’t keep his nose to himself, so perhaps that was a question to ask his friend. Or keep it to himself. He wasn’t entirely sure.
After they had finally settled with their drinks, Erwin attempted to talk to Levi about his bad dream, but the man wouldn’t budge. With a dismissive shrug, the best response Erwin received was a raspy, and half-sincere, “It happens sometimes... sorry... for waking you.”
While a part of Erwin was elated that the nightmare hadn’t discouraged Levi’s newly revived communication, the other part was disappointed at the resolute distance he was kept at. Instead of insisting on details, Erwin navigated the conversation toward shallower, safer waters and merely told Levi not to apologize. He had nothing to be sorry about.
Levi looked like he thought differently. Even as he curled into the couch with his knees pulled in, averting his gaze, it confirmed that it was no common feverish nightmare. The dream had been an unforgiving reflection, plucking at Levi's buried memories. It was personal enough that it left him feeling violated and, no matter how nonchalant he tried to come off, Levi couldn’t hide how anxious he was. How unsure he was--even now--of the entire world he found himself surrounded by.
Erwin had observed the difference between other wolvens from fighting rings. The way they would rise to the challenge in familiar territory of the fighting ring but bare their throats and bellies in the face of euthanasia or shelters. And yet Levi didn’t seem to give two--excuse the language--fucks on that. Whatever he deemed a threat, he wanted to face it head on, regardless of whether he was outmatched or not, he was determined. So, the current version of him was one that Erwin did not recognize nor care for. He felt out of his depth about what to do moving forward, so as not to make matters worse.
Then came the phone call from Director Shadis.
Another body had turned up. And, seeing as they hadn’t terminated their current consulting agreement, GSIS were using Erwin’s delay to their advantage.
That meant that, despite ineffectively arguing it wasn’t in the original contract, Erwin needed to leave a frazzled Levi alone in his house. It was inevitable. A legal obligation because he was a consultant, and the contract never specified it was merely for the Cascade Butcher exclusively.
What imperfect timing.
Thus, even though he promised Levi he would be back, that he would bring home groceries and new tea, hoping it enticed Levi not to run off while he was away, it was clear to both that the reaper was stalling. Fully dressed in his suit, keys in hand with the morning sun making its debut, he lingered in the entryway, staring at Levi still huddled in the arm of the couch, elbow perched on Erwin’s pillow.
“Are there any foods you don’t like? Allergies? What about tea? Anything specific?”
All that his courteous questioning earned him was a scalding scowl—which he still wasn’t sure how he deserved. Why was Levi so prickly about food? Even victims who were forced to starve often or eat all manner of things weren’t that surly on the topic. Usually, they’d be grateful, yet that wasn’t the case with Levi.
When it was clear he wouldn’t get a response, Erwin retracted from the front door and moved the remote from the armchair’s stand to place it closer to Levi on the coffee table.
“Feel free to watch television. Or help yourself to the books if you get bored. I’ll try not to be too long today. There’s not much in the cabinets but help yourself to whatever if you get hungry.”
Levi huffed and had the gall to roll his eyes petulantly, “I’m not a helpless brat. Just go do whatever you have to.”
Erwin’s unimpressed gaze lingered on the moody shifter, thinking how that statement certainly didn’t align with his bratty attitude. But he digressed.
Slow and steady, he repeated his mantra.
With great reluctance, Erwin eventually stopped hovering and left.
***
Mike inhaled deeply beside his shoulder, louder than what was necessary if it had been an innocent whiff.
Upon shooting a wry glare at the wolven, Erwin was met with a knowing smirk beneath the trimmed facial hair, though thankfully the man kept his thoughts to himself. The setting probably had a significant role as to why that was. God knew it had nothing to do with Erwin’s sour mood, as if that’d ever stopped Mike.
The pitted parking lot was blocked off with a crowd formed along the yellow-taped barricade. The building itself was a rundown apartment with sun-bleached and algae covered siding. It had the same quality that promised shoddy HVAC systems, leaky ceilings, and noisy pipes with enough scalding water for a five-minute shower before it turned artic. The sun cast bright illumination on the grounds with not a cloud occupying the beautiful autumn day. A contradiction to the usual gloom of the season, only enhancing the derelict conditions. Erwin could imagine feeling the heat roll off the asphalt during the summer in an unpleasant way with no trees to cool the concrete pad.
Already familiar to the dilapidated complex from waiting on the consultant, Mike led Erwin up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building. Upon reaching the second level, they shifted to the side of the exterior catwalk as a forensics team passed them by. Despite the crime scene being concentrated in B-32, the apartment grounds were alive with the frantic movement of officials, not unlike bees trapped in a jar. Each person locked in their tasks to document and collect all the necessary intel before biohazard clean-up crews were called. Public spaces like apartments and hotels tended to be impatient when it came to contamination with fellow residents.
“So, what did Shadis tell you about this one so far?” Mike asked as they turned on the catwalk down another line of doors.
“Hardly anything of note,” Erwin replied, feeling the tail of his coat brush the steel rungs of the railing as they walked. “He was more concerned with getting me here as soon as possible than preparing me for what to expect.”
“Yeah,” Mike drawled, impatience clear in his tone though not regarding who or what it was directed toward. “I think when you see it, you’ll understand why he wanted you here.”
“Speaking of, where is your boss? I expected to see him already, judging by his undying urgency.” Another lovely reaper-pun for Nanaba.
“I believe he’s talking with Pixis. Or he’s asserting himself over the property manager. Or reporters. Take your pick.”
Erwin didn’t bother. So long as Shadis wasn’t inflating his chest at Erwin, he couldn’t care less.
It didn’t take any searching from their end to find B-32. The door was propped open enough to let individuals slip through if their hands were full, but not enough to allow observers from the parking lot below to catch a glimpse inside. Officers from the local Olympia PD intermingled with Federal GSIS employees like the interception of a school of fish, though they stayed out of the way of those wearing the navy Ouroboros shield on their arm, knowing the hierarchy of the pond.
Inside the room, all the interior lights were on, flooding the bare apartment in low fluorescent glow that seemed to pair too well with a thick, rancid stench in the air. Erwin took a final somewhat fresh breath from outside the room before following Mike in, trying not to imagine how the odor would cling to the fabric of his coat the longer he soaked in the decay.
Upon entering the cramped space, where mustard beige carpet and popcorn ceilings framed the setting, Erwin’s gaze circled the room with a growing level of scrutiny. Despite the uninhibited illumination of lights, the space seemed much darker than outside, like that of a den.
“Did the victim not live here?” he asked, having stopped in the center of the room. There wasn't a single piece of furniture present.
Mike paused from his trek toward the hallway, turning to face him. “No. According to some statements, this wing of the complex was condemned after a lawsuit was issued for mold and other infestations. The property owner was forced to evict everyone housed on this side to eventually demolish it. That was 4 years ago, so apparently the manager has only done the bare minimum and kept people out. Probably a funding issue, if I had to guess. According to him our vic was never a tenant here. Eren confirmed it as well.”
Not a resident and yet the backdrop was the condemned building. Meaning someone purposely staged the body with that insight in mind, or they were possible squatters that had a bad night. An interesting piece of information, especially when the guilty individual could’ve gone with the easier option of finding an abandoned building elsewhere with less chances of being seen.
“What can you tell me about the apartment complex?” Erwin asked, taking in the living room while his mind worked inward on itself, constructing a picture.
Mike didn’t seem bothered by the delay in reaching the body, shifting his stance so he was facing Erwin directly. The other workers collecting trace evidence occasionally tossed the agent and consultant a curious side-eye but otherwise remained focused on their task. Erwin was sure he recognized Sasha and Connie moving through the hall between rooms with a kit and camera in hand.
“It’s low-income housing,” Mike listed, as he glanced at his notepad. “All species tolerant, though most tenants are wolven or hybrids. Despite the rundown conditions and questionable management, the owner has a history of prioritizing applicants who are wolven. You should also know that he’s a vampire himself, so it isn't a case of bias. A few tenants have stated that the manager has always tried to assist in drug treatment programs and the like for anybody without insurance, but as you can guess, the funding isn’t exactly feasible.”
“What did the owner have to say about it? Has anyone talked to them?”
“Nana did with Pixis earlier. The owner said that government programs like Section 8 were the only thing truly keeping him afloat. That he required any individual with citizenship to apply for it. Only rare instances did he take in non-registered wolvens, which isn’t necessarily illegal, but could get the attention of the Registry. As you can guess, this murder seemed set to do just that.”
“So, we’re dealing with a suspect who may have prior residence here to know this wing was empty, or someone who lucked out. Both instances seem like weak theories... If I had to guess, they either had a grudge against the owner, or possibly disagreed with wolvens who were in need getting assistance.”
“You don’t think they were only taking advantage of the empty building?” Mike questioned while tucking the notebook away.
Erwin asked instead, “Where are the closest tenants?”
“In the complex across the parking lot.”
“So, enough distance to not draw unwanted attention if they entered here,” he mused. “It’s a possibility that'd be considered a case of coincidence. But I fail to see why someone would choose to carry the murder out on the second floor and risk bystanders hearing rather than going to an empty building downtown.”
“Well, when you see what we’re working with, you may change your mind. My question is why stage it inside a building on the second floor unless they were trying to be discrete,” Mike shrugged.
But the voices still would’ve carried, Erwin kept to himself. It didn’t matter what floor the crime was committed when walls were as thin as these. Then again, the area of town they were in was the sort that people looked the other way when domestic disputes occurred. A murder could be carried out and anyone in the vicinity would go about minding their business.
“Show me the body.”
Mike stared at him a second longer before escorting him to the hallway. It wasn’t one of the bedrooms he was being guided to, but unexpectedly the bathroom. Here, the stench had condensed into a humid soupiness, leaving a film in Erwin’s nose, inching to his tastebuds. He could only imagine how horrible it was for his wolven counterparts.
Upon reaching the doorway, Erwin was immediately assaulted with a sense of secondhand terror that leached from the victim before his death. Like a frosty gust of wind slapping him in the face, nipping his cheeks and creeping down his neck. The residue of the soul clung to the victim’s cold flesh, a coarse undistinguishable whisper scratching at Erwin’s ear, tugging on his sleeve like a needy child.
Listen... listen...
Ah... So, it was going to be one of those days.
Erwin reluctantly took a putrid breath in, closing his eyes to focus on the plea trying to reach him, but the words never took shape. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t make out what the victim was trying to say.
“Oh, good. You made it.”
The feminine voice had Erwin opening his eyes to see Nanaba standing up from beside the tub, reaching to pass a box to Mike. He pulled out a set of gloves, then handed the box to Erwin to do the same. It was like déjà vu all over again. A play with each filling in their roles, following a script.
“What’s Mike told you so far?”
“Nothing about our victim yet,” Erwin replied. After slipping into the latex, he set the box down in a place not marked by gore and took in the scene before him. And what a gruesome one it was at that.
The naked man was reclined in the bathtub with prickly stubble and a receding blond hairline. Atop his tilted head was a twisted towel which was slightly skewed against the wall. One arm dangled outside with a pen woven between rigor mortis digits while it hovered over the tile. The other bloody limb was propped up, missing a ring finger and pinky from an apparent bite of a large wolven. Both detached fingers were purposefully situated on the floor by the sink, where a separate pool of blood was, equally disconnected from the staged scene.
Deep imprints of canine teeth marred the victim’s arms and legs in a pseudo mauling. Enough to puncture arched impressions of shredded flesh, but none of the injuries that ravaged the limbs appeared fatal. Not that there was a question of what the cause of death was.
The unfortunate man had suffered from a knife penetrating through his throat, sawing across until he was nearly decapitated. A horrid way to die, which explained the terror of spiritual residue clinging to the body. The mutilation also supplied an explanation to the arterial spray across the mirror and globs of scarlet on the floor, implying the throat had been slit prior to the victim being forced into the tub. Antemortem.
The bath water, despite the pungent ruby color, was filled nearly to the brim. Most of it was water, having diluted the fluid that percolated from the man’s wounds. The pallor and crusted blood indicated it was for show rather than the purpose of draining the body. However, even though diluted by the water, it did little to take away from the chucks of coagulated, jammy plasma floating at the surface.
But what really drew Erwin’s attention was the victim’s clavicle above the waterline, where an evocation seal was carved into flesh, furrowing the skin like trenches.
“The victim is a Lycanthrope by the name of Hannes Meier,” Nanaba recited, “Reporter for a little-known news site called The Diem Tribune. Background check revealed he’s had a history of alcoholism after his daughter was murdered 20 plus years ago. Divorced. Age 748. We suspect he’s not connected to any other victim of the Cascade Butcher case, but we’ll need to dig deeper to verify. Obviously, we’re dealing with someone familiar with the previous methods of death.”
Diligent and straight to the point. He admired Nanaba not questioning what was visually in front of her. Many would stutter and hesitate to make the call that there was a connection when drawing a line from one conclusion to the next. A pitiful excuse of, ‘but we put the guilty students away, how can this be related?’.
Because Tybur and Grice are still free.
“What do you think, Erwin?” Mike nudged, as if reading his thoughts. “Anything indicating a copy-cat or do you suspect we have other followers of Colt Grice who’re still active?”
“A copy-cat is entirely possible and shouldn’t be ruled out,” Erwin explained, kneeling beside the tub and gazing at Hannes. “The amount of press that the Cascade Butcher scenes garnered could entice a following easily enough. But the question we should consider is whether someone decided to dedicate a tribute to the killers or merely hoped to stir doubt.”
“But you still believe Tybur has something to do with it,” Nanaba stated plainly, no hint to judgement in her tone.
Erwin didn’t look at them as he reached out to lift Hannes’ wrist enough to examine one of the clean teeth imprints. Instantly, he regretted it as the shrill cry from the soul clawed into his ears like silverware on a plate.
“What I believe,” he eventually replied as the ringing subsided to a lower frequency, “should not eclipse the other possibilities of your investigation. As I said, they are entirely possible and should be explored just the same. Like the other murders, I doubt Tybur would be sloppy enough to allow a clear connection to be traced back to him.”
Before anyone could add to the conversation, footfalls in the corridor drew their attention as the trio pointed toward the newcomer.
“Oh, hello, Erwin. I was told you were on your way,” Moblit greeted, dragging a rolling gurney behind him with various bags set on top.
Erwin stood, careful to keep the soiled glove from his person. “Moblit. Good to see you. Is Hange not here?”
“She’s at the lab working on another autopsy. Just me today, sadly.”
He offered an encouraging smirk, “Nonsense. The team is lucky to have you on the case. You're most familiar with the previous victims, so dare I say: the expert.”
"Oh, that title sounds like a double-edged sword, if I've ever heard one," Moblit teased in good nature.
Mike interrupted Erwin's response as he hovered between the sink and toilet. “Where’s Eren? Has he calmed down yet?”
Moblit’s pleasantness grew dull at the reminder. “He’s with Chief Pixis right now. Jean was trying to calm him down, but Eren wasn’t listening to him, as usual.”
A grumble left the lycanthrope as he shared a disgruntled frown with Nanaba.
“Why don’t you go check in with him,” she proposed, setting a clean glove on his arm. “We can handle it here.”
“Alright,” he relented, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Let me know if you need us. We’ll be outside.”
With that Mike shuffled around Erwin and Moblit, careful not to disturb the blood splatter or yellow plastic tents.
“What’s happening?” Erwin asked when it was only Moblit and Nanaba remaining.
Nanaba sighed, rubbing the back of her hand against her temple and knocking a few short bangs from her face. “Hannes isn’t just a Lycanthrope. He’s actually a member of the Jeager pack and Eren’s Godfather. We hadn’t known until we came up here, but by then it was too late.”
Ah, yes. That would be a problem. Not to mention, a rather strange coincidence.
Wolven packs were unbinding things. Members, whether related or not, were considered blood and an assault on one would be grounds for the entire pack to come down on the aggressor. They also were known to carry out their own laws, to an extent, similar to covens. It was always a delicate line to balance while not crossing laws from the Treaty and Registry. With that in mind, it was easy to imagine Eren somewhere outside in a fit of rage wanting revenge on the one responsible.
Things were beginning to get complicated.
“How confident are you that he’ll calm down?” Erwin asked, gravely knowing that having a liability on a case that sensitive was a threat to them. The last thing they needed were mistakes being made when under scrutiny of the Registry and the public.
Nanaba inhaled a long breath, wincing slightly at the odor. While reapers were disciples of death, they were not immune to the ugly side of decay.
“I believe he’ll get it together eventually. I’m planning to make him take a few days off to spend time with his pack and settle before he comes back.”
It wasn’t the best answer, but it was the best he could ask for. He trusted Nanaba and the team to handle each other. It was one of the main reasons he felt comfortable enough to leave GSIS in the first place. He’d never put them in a position outside of their capabilities.
“Alright,” Erwin recalibrated the topic to the scene, determined to work through the evidence quickly to get the body to GSIS. And get home. The nagging worry of Levi not being there upon his return was hard to ignore. “Let’s work from the top regarding similarities.”
From there, the trio fell into a rhythm of dragging connections together to tie off loose ends. Each of the victims from Travis, Asim, and Eric shared the mauling bites, intact organs, and cut throats. The last three cases of theirs had evolved to include summoning seals tattooed someplace on the bodies, courtesy of ‘making it their own’. Each of these details had been circulating in the media during the investigation, which allowed any potential copy-cats to replicate. As for the differences, however, these variables were not as stark as the team would’ve liked, but notable all the same.
Despite Hannes not being displayed in the open, it didn’t take away that his body was staged. The towel was specifically brought it, as well as the pen and slip of paper that Moblit revealed in an evidence bag, plus there was no discernable reason for it to take place in a bathroom that Erwin could find. Equally puzzling was that rather than the summoning circle being tattooed into Hannes, it was carved. And carved well.
Neat, even lines. Near perfect shape.
Whoever did it had a steady hand and worked efficiently. Although, whether it was a complete seal that was functional was unclear and needed further research to determine.
“He’s not displayed in a supplicating posture,” Moblit added, gesturing to the relaxed pose. “The others were either on their back, bowing, or kneeling.”
Erwin drank in the scene, feeling something was sticking out about it that didn’t set right. Something he was missing despite it being right in front of him.
Moblit was correct. The positioning that Hannes was staged in was a completely different way than the rest.
But why?
Nanaba shrugged. “It may be a personal touch from the new killer. Or killers. We’ll have Sasha get prints from the bites and see if we can get an ID that way.”
“I suspect they’ll not come back with a stolen skull as last time,” Erwin concluded.
“No?” Nanaba stared at the body for a moment, trying to pick out what Erwin had seen to come to that speculation. “Why?”
“Whether the killer is working under Grice or not doesn’t mean that the methods will be the same. The students were given freedom of expression on how they carried out their murders. It was only by Eric’s engineering degree and initiative that they created the machine with Julian Walsh’s skull.” The soul’s voice continued to rasp at Erwin’s brain, needling his attention. He could feel his temple throb at the insistence. Instead of paying it any mind, he faced Moblit to address him. “Hannes is a lycanthrope... Have Armin draw up a toxicology report and compare it to the injection that shelters use to manipulate shifts.”
Moblit blinked as his expression shifted to one of surprise, exchanging a wary glance at Nanaba then he met Erwin’s gaze. “You think they drugged him to prevent him shifting? Using one of the blockers?”
“Unless the killer was someone Hannes knew,” Erwin replied, “it’s the only explanation as to why he didn’t shift if he was attacked. Especially, against a fellow wolven.”
Nanaba sighed. “Mike and Eren won’t be happy to hear if that’s the case.”
“I wouldn’t expect them to. Even if Hannes wasn’t part of Eren’s pack, it’s a cruel scheme to use on anyone,” he couldn’t help that his thoughts trailed to Levi. He hoped the man would still be home when he returned. Having an escaped ‘wolven’ was the last thing he needed to deal with, especially if Tybur was starting to make more plays.
Levi will still be there. Stop worrying. You haven’t given him reason to leave. Or so he hoped.
He gestured to the plastic bag Moblit had. “What did the paper say?”
“Oh.” Moblit handed the sealed parcel over. “It has a future date on it and another newspaper company.”
Erwin accepted it, reading in a scratchy penmanship:
“16 November, The Olympian”
“It’s referencing the paper tomorrow?” he glanced up, connecting with Nanaba. “What do you know about the other news site Hannes worked for? The Diem Tribue.”
“Eren said it wasn’t really a news site. More like a side project Hannes picked up with a friend outside of the pack. They went around writing and posting articles specifically toward wolven and hybrid rights, but that was all we could get out of him. It’s on our list to look into when we get back.”
“Right. Keep me posted on what you find out. I’m assuming you’ve sent someone to The Olympian to find out about tomorrow's paper?”
“Told Jean to head that way as soon as Eren calmed down,” she nodded. “If he hasn’t already left, he’ll be over there soon.” She then paused, looking from Hannes to Erwin. “Do you mind looking into the seals again? I’m curious if this one is much different than the others.”
“Certainly.”
“Great. That’ll give us some leads to follow-up until we can see if there’s connection elsewhere. We’ll keep in mind that Grice may have other followers. I’m sure you’ll be working on that hypothesis in the meantime...”
Nanaba’s voice trailed on, falling beneath the soul’s insistence and Erwin’s mounting ponderings. He continued to stare at the scene before him, glancing from the detached puddle of blood and fingers by Moblit to the carefully crafted image of the bath.
The pen. The towel. Why Hannes? Why a wolven who was a hobbyist reporter and why reference a published paper company? Why the staging?
If it wasn’t for the added effects to the body, Erwin would assume Hannes was chosen to rattle Eren and the team, but that didn’t make sense. While he didn’t believe in coincidences, he couldn’t help but think this may be an exception. Hannes fit a specific demographic the killer was aiming for. But why? For what purpose?
“Does this look familiar to you?” he asked suddenly, cutting off Nanaba mid-sentence.
Puzzled, she faced the scene, then cocked a brow at Erwin. “Familiar as in...?”
Then it clicked. Like a lightbulb in one of those silly shows Mike, Jean, and Eren watched on slow nightshifts. An epiphany of what he was looking at.
“Marat.”
“Huh?”
Moblit seemed equally confused. “His name is Hannes.”
Erwin huffed as neither were clearly following his train of thought. Hastily, he tugged off his soiled glove and fished out his phone, typing into the search engine. Once he found the image, he held it up for them to see. Moblit and Nanaba leaned in to observe the picture.
“Marat,” he repeated, as if that explained everything. “A painting centered on the French Revolution to disempower religious institutions. It was centered on replacing the old world with a new order of power.” He let that sink in for a beat before putting his phone away. “Whoever did this thought they were being clever. Probably had a good laugh about it too. It’s embarrassing that it took me this long to realize it.”
Nanaba seemed unamused by the fellow reaper’s revelation. “Well, your questionable flavor of art history aside, it’s not like the subject in the original painting was nearly decapitated either. If they wanted to make some statement, why go through such butchery?”
“Because the killer wants us to know it’s still linked to the Cascade Butcher. Whether as inspiration, or for the purpose of Grice’s hidden motive. Obviously, what we see in front of us is not a mere test on whether a human has what it takes to kill prior to being reborn into a vampire. Hannes’ death was elevated.”
“Elevated,” Moblit echoed, the distaste evident for the term. “So, are we looking for pretentious art students?”
Erwin shook his head, not tearing his gaze from the body. Now that he saw it for what it represented, the reference to the painting, he couldn’t help but hold a small measure of appreciation for it. True, it was gruesome, and really, it was a travesty to have been a pack member of Eren’s... But Erwin had always admired Renaissance art and the like. And if his suspicions were correct, there was more to the scene than what they noticed so far.
A riddle.
So, of course he was a little excited. It was more than some bland murder to solve. It was a new challenge.
“No. This is too refined for students. Too many layers.”
Sophisticated. Sending a message. It was sounding more and more like his belief in Tybur’s involvement was accurate. Perhaps, the paper scheduled for release the following day would shed more light on his hypothesis. It’d behoove Erwin to know sooner than later so he didn’t miss his turn in their clandestine game of chess.
The whisper from the soul was still playing on repeat like a background tune for his eager reflections. Faint and unintelligible. Bitter regrets tainted the body, and Erwin truly wished he could understand what Hannes was trying to tell him, if only to confirm that the Coven Leader had been present during his murder. It was a shame that necromancy was so unforgivingly outlawed, or else he wouldn’t be reduced to seeking clarification from the disjointed frequency.
He tried again to pick out any phrases Hannes’ soul was attempting to convey...
But it only sounded like tears.
***
Having nothing else to profile on the scene, Erwin made his way out of the complex, thankful the soul's voice tapered the further away he got. He decided to check in with Mike before leaving, and soon finding the wolven talking with Chief Pixis, Nile, and Marie in a somewhat secluded corner of the parking lot, tucked under the shade of the building.
Across the yellow barricade, the crowd lingered with pockets of reporters and cameras hoisted over shoulders, filming the exterior of the scene. Mike and Pixis exchanged glances toward the mass of people before going back to their discussion, only becoming distracted when Erwin approached.
“Erwin,” Pixis drawled with a cheeky grin. The gesture was out of place for any Chief to wear when at an active crime scene, but it was Dot Pixis. The man lived in his own world of bliss, likely fueled by the contents of the tumbler in hand. Everyone that knew him was smart enough to conclude there wasn’t water inside. “I assume you’ve gathered the information you needed to close the case. Should we take bets on which day of the week it’ll be announced?”
Erwin shook his head with a stiff smirk. “I blame you and everyone else that hyperbolize my work. You continue to get people’s hopes up that I can solve the case easily, yet they’ll only be disappointed when I stumble. It’s really not doing me any favors, Dot.”
“Since when have you ever stumbled, my boy.” Pixis’ eyes crinkled in the corners, his dense silvery mustache levitating higher up his cheekbones. Despite pushing the ceiling of a human’s retirement age, Pixis always addressed Erwin and the rest of the GSIS team as youth. He was never one to acknowledge that they were all his elders, choosing to treat them according to what his eyes told him. It was probably why he managed to flatter so many supra women into marrying him. The recent vampire wife was likely still in her honeymoon phase with the Chief.
“Dot’s got a point,” Marie shrugged, her soft and gentle frame wore the forensic uniform with grace. “You’ve always managed to close even the most difficult cases.”
Nile, ever the reliant realist, huffed. “According to the reporters over there, those humans were wrongly convicted. They’re saying some damning things about GSIS and Reapers. Now it’s a question on whether they’re correct or Erwin has another case to solve.”
Alright. That was a little uncalled for.
He pinned Nile with a pointed look that the man didn’t flinch from. “Your forensics team confirmed the evidence on the Cascade Butcher case, and you were around to hear the confessions from the suspects yourself. The students were responsible... Where’s this doubt suddenly coming from?”
“It’s not doubt. I’m simply playing Devil’s Advocate. You said it yourself that you aren’t Hercule Poirot. I'm just taking your side, is all.”
Mike scoffed but didn’t add to the conversation. Surprisingly, Marie wasn’t buying Nile’s dour excuse either.
“What’s got you in a mood all of a sudden?”
“I’m not in a mood.”
“Well, it seems like you’re taking a dig at Erwin as if he was slacking on his job.”
“Are you serious? How was I doing that? I was siding with him.”
Marie frowned, retracting her hand from Nile’s arm to fold across her chest. Instead of pressing the subject further, she turned to Pixis.
“You said Anka would be able to babysit on Friday?”
Pixis, unruffled from the mounting tension between the spouses, answered while unscrewing the cap of his tumbler. “She’d be delighted. Anka always enjoys having your children over.”
“We appreciate it,” she smiled while Nile, despite his unmannerly scowl nodded. His arm wove around Marie’s shoulders as he kept his attention on Pixis.
“Yeah, tell her we’ll pay whatever she deems appropriate.”
“Nonsense,” Pixis waved. “If anything, I’d like to invite you two for dinner next weekend. She does enjoy her dinner parties.” Then, looking to Mike and Erwin, “You’re both welcomed as well. I’ll only have a few members from the precinct attending. Most will be her companions, so you can understand why I’m hurting for reinforcements. Feel free to bring your plus-ones.”
“I appreciate the invitation,” Erwin replied, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to take you up on the next offer.”
Pixis nodded sagely. “Busy man. I get it. The invite remains open if you change your mind.”
“We should get upstairs,” Nile interjected, arm still over Marie. “Moblit will be needing help with the body.”
“It was nice talking to you,” Pixis waved, taking a sip of his brew. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you when you drop the kids off.”
“Of course. Tell Anka we said hi,” Marie returned, gaze lingering apologetically on Erwin before being guided away.
Mike shook his head as Erwin watched the couple leave, finding the situation oddly exposing, and unexpectedly uncomfortable for some enigmatic reason. The wolven beside him cupped Erwin’s shoulder, drawing his attention to him and the Chief.
“It appears that Nile’s as jealous as ever,” Pixis chuckled, finding mirth in the interaction. “Your rivalry with him will never end, will it, Smith?”
“Rivalry?” Erwin frowned at the word. “I’d hardly call our situation something so profound.”
Mike snorted. “Why? That’s what Nile considers it.”
Erwin’s frown deepened as he sent an unsavory glare at his companion. “Nile is delusional. Besides, I don’t know why he’d feel threatened by me.”
Pixis wistfully sighed. “Oh, to be young and naive.”
Ok. Erwin was about done with this conversation.
“I’m exponentially older than you, Dot. Calm down.”
Mike snickered beside him, earning an elbow to the ribs. “Oof. Rude, mate.”
“Don’t be a pillock then.”
“Ass.”
Erwin shook his head as Pixis chortled again, drawing Mike’s awareness to the human.
“You’re cheekier than usual, old man,” the wolven pointed out. “Whatcha got in that cup of yours?”
A twinkling of mischief reflected in Pixis’ eyes as he lifted the container to the space beneath his grey mustache. “Alcohol.” Then took a swig.
“I’m surprised the Mayor hasn’t fired you for drinking on the job.”
Pixis screwed the lid back on. “If you’re going to live the life we live, witnessing crimes scenes as the one upstairs, you need to find pleasure wherever you can. Even camels must find water eventually, no matter how far we go between oases.”
“How philosophical of you,” Mike deadpanned. Then he faced Erwin. “So, how’s your plus-one doing, Mr. Taken?”
“Really?” Erwin challenged, not appreciating the antagonizing. “You’re still not going to let Hange’s text go?”
Mike shrugged. “What? Just curious how he’s doing.”
“He’s fine. Actually, I should be getting back home. I still have errands to run and Shadis to talk to.”
“Yeah,” Mike sighed. “I should head upstairs. See what Nana needs help with.”
“Where’s Jean and Eren?”
“Oh, we managed to calm Eren down enough to not maul anyone nearby. Jean’s taking him back home and then he’ll stop off at the paper company to ask about tomorrow’s release.”
Pixis added, “Tell your lovely wife that I’ve had some of my men collect additional statements from tenants of the complex. I’ll have them forwarded to your office.” Then to Erwin, he patted the reapers shoulder, a grin pulling at the leathery cheeks. “It’s good having you around. Shadis won’t say it, but you’re vital for a case like this. Glad to see you’re willing to put your differences aside.”
Erwin returned the smile. “It’s always a pleasure, Dot.”
The Chief gave a lazy salute to Mike and wandered toward some members in matching navy uniforms, leaving Mike and Erwin alone. The flashes of cameras continued to twinkle amongst the onlookers, trying to catch something worth mentioning.
Just then, a familiar figure was heading in their direction, and it took only a split second for Erwin to recognize it was Shadis advancing on him with all the charm of a tank.
“Aaaand that’s my cue,” Mike concluded, retracting his presence from Erwin’s side to head to his wife. “Good luck, mate.”
If Erwin was a lesser man, he would’ve rolled his eyes. Instead, he shifted so he was facing the elder reaper in his abrupt approach.
“Smith. What did you find out?”
Having known any attempt at cordial greetings would perish like paper in a storm, Erwin overlooked it and gave a brief narrative that led to his deduction of the Marat painting. It ended with him proposing to continue his research at home for much of the week.
“No. I need you in the field on this.”
Erwin scowled at the blatant rejection. “I’m not usually called on cases for the leg work portion, Shadis. I consult.”
“Yes. But one of the apartment occupants had spilt the details of the scene to the media and now they’re spouting nonsense that the three humans were possibly wrongly accused.”
Upon his previous discussion with Nile, Erwin had suspected that was the case for how the reporters knew so much already. It was always a factor outside of their control when civilians were loose-lipped and on the scene before them.
“I understand, but what the media says has never overruled evidence or confessions. The students are guilty. Whoever did this is someone new.”
“I get that. But that’s why I want you working hands-on. I need progress on this.”
Erwin sucked in a slow inhale, willing his patience to hold on a little longer. “Look. I’m already agreeing to your terms of extending my contract. I have other priorities and responsibilities that I must attend to while assisting with the case. You need to meet me halfway here.”
“I’m sure whatever you have going on isn’t important enough to warrant the attention of the Registry like this, Smith.”
If only you knew.
“You know, technology does wonders to bridge the gap by working from home, Shadis. The benefits of progression.”
“Goddamnit. Smith, I wished you’d lose the snarky attitude one of these days... You know what? Fine,” Shadis tossed his hands in the air. “I know you’re not going to give up on this. We’ll give it a trial run. I want you in the office at least two days a week unless we need you for something important. Other than that, you can work independently so long as you’re working.”
“You act as if I’d falsify my actions. When have you ever known me to slack?”
“It’s because of that which I’m even allowing you to work from home.”
“Very well,” Erwin conceded, sensing the circulatory argument brewing. He got what he wanted, best concede now. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”
“You have assignments to work on?” Shadis verified sternly, like a parent asking about homework being finished before going to play outside.
“I do. Evocation seals and researching art students at the university.” He started in the direction of his SUV, tossing a half wave over his shoulder, “You know how to reach me.”
***
Erwin glanced at his watch, feeling his heart drop at the time.
This is taking too long.
He hadn’t anticipated groceries taking over 25 minutes and then some to complete. Maybe 10 to 15 minutes at the most. That’s what he was used to on his errands. However, when he was trying to stock up the wares for the month, and supply for two people, it tended to require more calculations and backtracking down aisles he’d already covered.
He should’ve made a bloody list.
Sighing, he glanced at the pile of items in the cart, a mountain of meats, sides, breakfast mix, soups, bread... An array of anything he thought Levi would have no qualms eating and then back-up options in the event he did. The heap in the cart was adorned with a cap of boxes of teas ranging from Rooibos to black, from simple green to lemon glazed dessert tea. Whatever that was, though he couldn’t deny that it did sound good. A solid mix of choices for Levi to try and if he didn’t like any, then Erwin was sure he could pass it off to another person who’d enjoy it at the office.
However, those were potential problems for the future. Where the reaper currently had planted himself in his new struggles was in front of the hygiene section. A row of body wash and deodorant that usually wouldn’t be intimidating, yet now seemed like an adversary’s battleline.
Should he get Levi his own items? Surely, he’d appreciate not using Erwin’s spares. But what did the man like? Would he want the rugged ‘tobacco and bourbon’ scent or the crisp ‘ocean tides’?
This is taking too long... I don’t even know if he’ll agree to stay and help with my case.
Yet not getting Levi anything felt like a rude oversight.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Erwin breathed through the sticky headache and willed himself to stop overthinking. He was known for profiling people, so he simply needed to use what he’d learned to just pick something.
Looking at the idiotically named bottles, Erwin conjured what he imagined Levi’s natural scent consisting of. He obviously liked cleanliness, the forest walk they went on, teas, and he was not put off by the rain. Also, he was keen to carry part of the fern around with him for most of the day. Erwin was pretty sure he spotted it in the bedroom actually, having snuck it in.
Picking up a few bottles aimed at cleaner, nature-like scents, he sniffed the contents one at a time, eliminating as he went. Soon enough, he narrowed it down to the eucalyptus and mint based one. That was as good as it was going to get.
Finally pushing the cart to the checkout, Erwin unloaded everything onto the conveyer belt as his mind drifted. While there were plenty of groceries to tie them over for the month, he was still required to leave the house to work on the case. Even if he returned to find that Levi didn’t escape—or run away, is the more appropriate term—that didn’t mean something wouldn’t happen while Erwin was gone the next time. Perhaps getting Levi a phone would mitigate that, giving him a sense of freedom to limit the feeling of being trapped.
Actually... that wasn’t a bad idea. Not only would it give Levi access to reach him, and a method to track him if he did run away, but it’d also give Erwin a little more insight into the timeframe of Levi’s capture. Sure, the man may offer the answer to Erwin if he asked, but that was highly improbable. Just because he was talking now did not mean he’d be forthcoming with information. But... if Erwin gave him a phone, and say, Levi didn’t know how to operate it...
As devious as the plan was, Erwin couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty. He wanted to learn about Levi and bridge the negative gap between them. He wanted both of them to be comfortable around each other instead of constantly mapping out the personal bubble Levi encased himself with. Erwin wanted the bloody thing gone, so they could make the appropriate progress against Tybur, if said vampire was guilty. Which Erwin was certain was the case.
But he digressed. He was being irrational and impatient, completely unfair to Levi by trying to rush him in processing everything on his own terms. Erwin needed to give Levi space, that was true, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fish for his own answers in the meantime.
With that decided, Erwin paid for the groceries and typed in the nearest phone service store on the way home.
***
Peace of mind was not easily attainable.
Even hours—it felt like days--since Erwin had left, the images of his nightmare festered behind Levi’s eyes, clear as if it was on a macabre feedback loop. As the morning passed, the vision began to erode like footprints against waves, pieces fading out little at a time. By the afternoon, when he recalled what his dream had entailed, it was only snippets of imagery:
Of Izzy, covered in blood and two-fanged bite marks along her throat, standing in Erwin’s kitchen with Tybur at her back whispering into her shoulder. She stood, dazed with a willowy smile, cleaver in one hand while staring at the slab of meat on the cutting board. Though it wasn’t a typical cut of meat one would expect, but rather a person’s arm, cut below the elbow and lifeless.
“Are you happy, little dove?” Tybur cooed. His eyes flicked from beside her coppery locks to Levi who sat at the head of a dining table, large enough to hold twenty people. He was alone there. A single placemat and fine silverware around a plum porcelain plate set only for him. As if he was the honored guest or monarch waiting for his meal.
Levi couldn’t move from the chair, couldn’t speak no matter how much he tried. Only watch as Izzy lifted her head and grinned at him, like everything was normal.
A wet splatter filled the quiet kitchen in an unsteady pattern. It took too long for Levi to realize the noise was coming from her left arm—or what remained. Her elbow trickled sticky strings of scarlet to the floor, raining droplets on the marbled counter. When she spoke, Levi couldn’t hear what she said. Whatever it was, he knew he recalled it after Erwin left, but the strange way dreams worked, his mind had started to erase it. All he could remember now was her lips moving. Anything else was forgotten.
Perhaps that was better. It wasn’t like the nightmare was real. Those events never happened in Erwin’s kitchen. Or even in Tybur’s house. Or, not like that, anyway. It was simply a cluster of neurons firing and pulling from various memories with a sprinkle of warped imagination.
Regardless, after hours—hours, right?—of aimless wandering in the living room and along the front deck, Levi could only hoist up the recollection of the nightmare by actively thinking about it. When it got to the point of requiring force to pull at the dream, his mind was finally able to settle enough to fall quiet, depleting his restlessness.
With nothing else to do to pass the time, he chose a book from the shelf, pleasantly surprised to find ancient copies of literature in Latin amongst the collection. Intrigued with his prize, he flumped onto the sofa that Erwin was obviously sleeping on, instead of his room upstairs. Something Levi chose to ignore. His own Latin knowledge was rusty, having not been around during the height of its time, thus taught secondhand by those more fluent. With no one around to assist, reading translated versions of prose made it a little easier to fill in the blanks. There were select poems he had memorized when he was younger, encouraged by the joy it brought his mum when he’d recite a piece for her over tea.
The ones he remembered were practiced in his head to pass the time when in the cage or oubliette. His uncle was never impressed by his recital of random lines, perfectly executed in a conversation to prove a point to the surly man. He would roll his eyes with a sneer before retorting with an equally damage-dealing insult at his nephew, always reaming each other just to get a reaction. It was a strange dynamic, one that his mother found amusing when not berating her brother for going overboard. He always had a way of taking things too far, but Levi appreciated him for it.
Indeed, Erwin’s book was the perfect distraction for his day of solitude. The adequate challenge to unbury decades of unused knowledge, along with the bittersweet nostalgia.
It was no surprise when Levi lost track of time as a result. His thoughts had retreated so deeply in his subconscious that the headlights of Erwin’s vehicle passing the front windows had startled him. Recognizing the reaper stepping out under the deck lights had soothed Levi’s fight or flight reaction—which, let’s be honest, is more ‘fight-and-fight-until-the-bastard-is-twitching-on-the-ground’. But that was beside the point.
It was disappointing that Levi’s fragile moment of reprieve was soon replaced by the nettlesome sting of offense and indignation. Specifically, when Erwin walked in and had a stupid, unfiltered look of relief upon seeing Levi. It was quickly replaced by a neutrally friendly mask, insincere in many ways which he used when around the hellhound. Cordiality reserved for strangers, not friends. Erwin used it to cover his delight, along with idle chatter, instead of addressing the obvious.
Unfortunately for the reaper, the attempt was wasted. Levi knew that Erwin suspected him of having taken off. Which wasn’t to say Levi hadn’t considered it. Sitting on the steps of the deck enjoying the sun, he certainly daydreamed about it. Running off into the forests in his shifted form, exploring everything nature had to offer. Maybe he could get a baring of where he was at or which direction the city was. But he didn’t act on his thoughts, so the man should give him some fucking credit.
With metaphorical ruffled fur, Levi did little in way of responding to Erwin aside for muted gestures, hums, and gruff acknowledgements. He decided not to be an inconsiderate prick and went outside to assist in bringing groceries in, surprised by his own initiative after only a couple of days staying in the cabin. Any negative thoughts that’d usual resurface about falling complacent remained dormant when he saw the sheer amount of food the man had gotten.
Missing meals would be nearly impossible if the reaper was determined to cook it all. It was too much for one person to eat and, frankly, Levi was suspecting more than two or three people could handle, given how little his stomach required.
Upon helping to put everything away (which mandated two shelves in a cabinet to be rearranged to accommodate the hoard of tea), Levi continued to get random whiffs of Erwin. Despite his senses being dulled in his human form, not to mention he didn’t know where Erwin had gone to that morning, the sour and copper scent was familiar enough to recognize.
Did the man go reaping? Or did it have something to do with his job at GSIS?
Either way, the smell was rancid and churned his stomach, triggering his olfactory senses awfully.
“Are you hungry, Levi? It’s almost time for dinner, though I’m not sure if anything sounds particularly appealing. It doesn’t matter to me what we eat.”
Levi wanted to make a snide comment regarding Erwin’s last statement but held back at the last second. He didn’t deserve to be the target of Levi’s hostility. Instead, he stiffly offered, “I could eat.”
“What would you like?” Erwin opened the fridge, peering at the contents of the pregnant shelves. “I can make beef or pork. Or chicken again and cook it differently. Also, we have soup, pasta, lasagna. Fish... Could always have breakfast for dinner. Or pizza.”
It wasn’t until Erwin started his word vomit of menu items that the enormity of the situation began to sink in. For the entirety of the day, Levi had been left alone, unbounded and uncaged. He went outside whenever he chose, even being trusted enough to go to the vehicle and retrieve bags without threat or force. Levi had even helped (while keeping as much distance as the kitchen allowed) put the food away. And now he was being offered the opportunity to choose what to eat?
The familiar black smog billowed within his core, threatening to overwhelm him at the mention of meals and ingredients and options. He hated Erwin for it. Hated that he was being put in a position where he should be able to answer normally and yet the salient fact that he couldn’t was like rubbing his nose in it.
You can’t do it, can you, the damning internal voice ridiculed. You can’t even make simple decisions on food. If Tybur saw how pitiful you are now with your freedom, he’d laugh in your face. You can’t even handle it. It’s wasted on you.
Levi tried to swallow the rising anxiety, feeling it caught in his throat and refusing to dislodge from his trachea. Having no choice but to ignore it, he pushed on.
“You—you should go shower before dinner,” Levi spouted suddenly, hoping that it was only his imagination that conjured the shaking of his voice. If he was lucky, the borderline demand covered it up from Erwin’s detection.
Erwin tossed his gaze over his shoulder toward Levi, eyes stricken with confusion. “I’m sorry?”
Levi shot a glance at the opened fridge, using the rising frustrations to ground himself in the present. “I said you should shower. You stink.”
A flicker of offense slipped across Erwin’s expression as he glanced at his attire. Then, whether doubting Levi or confirming, he ducked his nose to the lapel of his suit and inhaled.
“I suppose I may have gone nose blind,” he admitted, shutting the door. “The smell was highly concentrated in the tiny room.”
“Yeah, well,” Levi wasn’t sure what to say to that, having no real context. He folded his arms over his chest and, sounding bolder than he felt, he replied, “just do me a favor and get washed up. I don’t want to smell you anymore.”
He half expected his attitude to be the tipping point of Erwin’s patience and good nature. He was practically giving the reaper a perfect reason to assert his dominance by being spoken to in such a way in his own home. It wasn’t clear if Erwin was the sort to become physical in his punishments or more creative, but Levi figured the sooner he found out, the sooner he could adapt.
As it was, however, Erwin stayed where he was, merely lifting a brow at his irritable disposition. “You know, Levi. I’m not sure which is more impolite. When you’re growling and glaring at me, or when you’re talking.”
Before Levi even registered what he was doing, or even the fact Erwin had not closed the distance to punish him, his body acted on its own. Like a knee-jerk response, his hand separated from the crook of his elbow while his middle finger lifted into the air. Simultaneously, Erwin and Levi’s gaze magnetized to the rude gesture a split second before Levi’s braincells kicked in and he slipped his arm back to its original position. Shit. Now he was definitely going to find out what Erwin was about. Good fucking job.
The room swelled with tension as Levi waited, hating how his breathing suddenly felt shallow. When the lack of movement from the other side of the counter barely registered, Levi risked a glance with an armored gaze at Erwin who was... smirking. And then, the reaper fucking chuckled.
“Alright. I concede. I’ll go shower and start dinner when I’m finished.”
As Erwin retreated from the kitchen to the second floor, Levi couldn’t help but wonder if it was another scheme. Did Erwin really not take offense against Levi’s testy reactions, or was he waiting to spring a punishment on him later before bed?
What the fuck did Levi get into?
***
By the time Erwin returned, freshly showered and wearing a set of cottony pajamas, Levi had composed himself, coming to terms that if he was already slotted for punishment, might as well not hold back.
So, when Erwin slid a cellphone across the counter, Levi simply stared. There was no explanation that followed and upon a quick examination, it was clear that the device was different than Erwin’s.
“It’s yours.”
Levi lifted his eyes to peer at Erwin from beneath his lashes.
“You’re free to personalize it however you’d like,” Erwin encouraged, nudging the device closer. “I assure you, it won’t bite, Levi.”
His lips tightened into a grim line as he tilted his chin higher. “Why? I don’t need it.”
Erwin shrugged innocently. “In case you ever feel like you want to reach me while I’m away. It’s good to have a backup in the event something happens.”
Levi dropped his attention to the device, contemplating the explanation. Begrudgingly, he accepted the phone, but that was the extent of his response. It wasn’t clear what Erwin was expecting from him or what he was supposed to do next. As an afterthought, he muttered, “Thanks.”
Erwin’s unrelenting stare lingered on him, waiting for something. “Why don’t you open it, and I’ll show you some of the apps I downloaded for you.”
The suggestive tone nagged at Levi’s instincts, sounding a little too nice and cheery for what they were discussing. As if trying to convince a kid to do something they didn’t want to, while keeping them from breaking down into a tantrum. Levi wanted to dig his heels in, sensing he was starting a new test, but uncertain of the rules. So far, Erwin hadn’t given him a reason to resist the polite offer, so Levi had no choice but to follow along.
“How do I do that?”
Another flash skipped across Erwin’s features, but it was gone too quickly for Levi to identify. It was almost along the lines of appearing triumphant, though he couldn’t be certain.
Erwin reached out his hand, “I can show you.”
Withholding a sigh, Levi slid the device the short space between them, refusing to set it in Erwin’s palm. That was too close for comfort without something larger being passed between them.
After a crash course of the side buttons and how the touchscreen and contacts worked, Erwin showed Levi the apps, which was basically a few games, and an icon called Kindle meant for digital books. Levi wasn’t entirely sure what Erwin meant by that, but upon seeing the same book he had read in the GSIS cell already on the phone, he got the general idea. He supposed it was convenient by saving room in one’s home with everything available on the app. However, after a longing glance at the older texts on the shelves, he had to admit there was an appeal to physical copies.
“So,” Erwin ventured, passing the phone to Levi to explore as he worked on dinner. They (Erwin) settled on a simple tortellini dish. “If you’re not familiar with cellphones, is it safe to assume you’ve never had one?”
“Never needed one,” Levi conceded, watching Erwin stir sauce in a pan. His voice was still rough. It would probably be that way for a little while before smoothing out to normal. If it ever did.
“No? Is that because of your circumstances?” he asked vaguely.
Levi rolled his eyes, yet it went unnoticed by Erwin. “You could say that.”
There was an expectant lull, heavy with the reaper waiting for elaboration.
“I see,” Erwin trailed when none predictably came. He sent a glance over at Levi from the corner of his eye. “I suppose circumstances could be responsible for a lot of unusual explanations.”
What sort of cryptic shit was he implying? Who talked like that?
“Why don’t you just come out and ask what you want,” Levi bluntly contested, fixing him with an impatient look.
If the direct challenge surprised Erwin, he didn’t let it show. There were two more stirs of the sauce prior to it being adjusted to a simmer. Once satisfied dinner didn’t need his immediate attention, the reaper faced Levi, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. His knitted sweater, that of course matched his pajamas, was scrunch at the sleeves, tucked almost the same location as the detached arm in his dream.
“Alright. How long were you with Tybur?”
Levi frowned. “’With’ implies I was there by choice.”
“My apologies, allow me to alter my question. How long did Tybur keep you imprisoned?”
“Don’t know.”
Erwin tilted his head, gaze clearly unimpressed. “Come now, Levi. You tell me to be upfront with my questions, just for you to refuse to give an honest answer? What am I to do about that?”
Levi squinted at the blatant call out, before looking out the window above the sink. It was too dark to see anything, especially with the glare from the interior lights.
“It wasn’t an untruthful answer,” he said, noncommittally. “I was there for so long with no way of tracking time. I know it was years. Had to be decades. Couldn’t tell you more than that.”
“Do you know what year it is currently?”
“Tch. You think if I knew that, then I wouldn’t be so lost on time?” Levi whirled his gaze onto Erwin, patience fraying at the edges. “I don’t fucking know where we're even at--just that we’re in America.”
It was Erwin’s turn to frown at him, considering the hellhound for a beat as he gathered his thoughts. “Are you able to recall where you were last?”
Levi’s huffed, then shook his head, exasperation causing his mouth to run away. “Fuck’s sake. So, that's how it is, huh? All information comes with a price... Is this what I have to deal with if I want answers? Just more questions tossed back unless I give you something you deem satisfactory first? How much is the truth going to cost me?”
Erwin grew indignant at the remark as Levi watched him warily, wondering if he pushed too far. But when the reaper opened his mouth, it wasn’t what he expected.
“It seems that you’re correct. I have a habit of satiating my curiosity at the sake of other’s expense.”
Was that supposed to be an apology? If so, it was shit. Then again, it was better than the reaper putting him in his place for the backtalk.
Erwin continued, ignoring Levi’s deadpanned stare. “To answer your inquiry, you’re in Washington state and my home is at the foot of the Cascade Mountain Range. As for the year, it’s 2025.”
Pushing off the counter, he returned his efforts to the meal, stirring everything once more before switching the range off. Levi, meanwhile, was lost in thought. His internal compartmentalization was spinning around with what he remembered last and wondering how he ended up there. He recalled long bouts of being heavily drugged. The loud droning of an engine, possibly a plane. But most of it was fuzzy.
As Erwin was plating the meal for them, allowing Levi space to calm down, the hellhound spoke up, though his tone was rueful and low.
“The last place that I remember being was in Louisiana,” he kept his attention on his hands, rubbing over callouses. It helped to distance himself and his thoughts from Erwin by not looking at him, even if it was just an illusion. “When Tybur captured u-me...I was in Ireland.”
“I see,” Erwin trailed off, slowly setting the strainer down as he processed the details. He hesitated a moment longer before persisting, “Are you Hibernian? I detect a faint accent, although I couldn’t quite place it.”
Despite his emotions feeling unbalanced, oscillating from defensive to sullen, Levi scoffed. “I haven’t heard that term in a long time. How ancient are you?”
Erwin smirked, amused by the jab. “Not old enough for Rome, but my father was. He was a philosopher and later, a professor. I’m afraid I’ve adopted many habits and lessons from him.”
“That explains the Latin books.”
“Ah, yes. I have the translated versions on most of them as well, but I couldn’t bring myself to discard the originals. They were his, so they have some sentimental value.” Erwin slid a plate to Levi, then returned to the fridge. “Would you care for wine with dinner tonight? Or something else?”
“Water is fine.”
“Very well. You won’t mind if I indulge then?”
Levi pulled the plate to his chest to hover over the food, eyeing Erwin with increasing trepidation. “Is there a right or wrong answer?”
“Not at all,” Erwin reassured. “If I ask for your opinion, then the choice is yours to make.”
He licked his chapped lips, sensing no dishonesty. “It’s your house. Drink what you want.”
Pleased or disinterested in continuing the conversation, Erwin gave him a glass of water while he poured himself wine.
Together they ate in relative silence. Levi continued to sit on the same stool with one eye trained on Erwin, despite their prior somewhat friendly conversation. There was a pit starting to form in his stomach. The sort that was born from regret, and it took no contemplation to realize the source. Levi felt like he made a mistake. As if he’d revealed too much information to Erwin about his past and it was being weaponized in the man’s skull as they ate. Even though he knew it was a somewhat irrational conclusion to jump to, Levi was familiar with monsters using any crumb to their advantage. The fact remained that he continued to know little to nothing about the reaper.
After dinner was finished, Erwin set the plates in the sink, turning toward Levi who was slowly sipping on his water.
“I have some work I need to review this evening. I was planning on using the island, but I’ll need to sit next to you to reach the outlet for my laptop.”
Levi refrained from letting his eyes wander to the outlet at the side of the counter, recalling its location. Knocking back the rest of his water, he stood from the chair and gathered his dishes.
The unspoken disinterest was received by the reaper who sauntered toward his messenger bag, extracting the sleek device and setting it up in Levi’s surrendered place. Meanwhile, Levi started washing the dishes, keeping half his concentration on the window’s reflection where Erwin’s image hung over his shoulder.
“You don’t have to trouble yourself with the dishes. I can get them after I finish.”
“It’s fine,” Levi retorted, brooking no argument.
Nodding, Erwin thanked him and started on his work.
The clacking of the keyboard wasn’t an annoying sound. Actually, Levi found he didn’t mind it at all, filling the kitchen with a simple tapping rhythm, lulling his mind to the task at hand and not on remembering what blood splatter looked like on the white marbled counter.
After he finished drying the last dish and putting the plate away, he faced Erwin who was in deep concentration with whatever filled his screen, having not looked away once since he began. Levi got the sense the man was an overachiever by the intensity of his focus, likely a workaholic.
Quickly growing bored, he set the kettle on the stove and chose to hover where Erwin usually planted himself during their meals. He observed the reaper for a beat before giving in to his boredom.
“What are you doing?”
Erwin’s eyes flicked over his screen, darting to the empty sink, then the kettle as if catching up with everything he missed. When his gaze circled to Levi, he leaned away from the device to give him his full attention.
“You recall that I mentioned I was investigating a serial killer which led to GSIS infiltrating and shutting down the fighting ring?”
Levi’s brows pinched together. “Not in so many words. The fighting ring was you?”
Erwin half-shrugged. “The team. Mostly, Nanaba and I were the ones who made sure it was illegal before anything was called in.”
“Mhm,” Levi nodded, giving space for Erwin to continue.
“The killers were three college students who were coerced by a vampire of Tybur’s coven. A Colt Grice. Does that name sound familiar?”
Levi shook his head. “No.”
“Ah,” Erwin deflated slightly before progressing. “Well, long story short, that was what drew me to Tybur as the main suspect. The head of the snake, if you will. Unfortunately, as bureaucracy goes, many higher ups were content with pinning the blame at the ones who carried out the murders rather than looking for anyone who had a role in encouraging it. The case was supposed to be closed, but the phone call I received this morning was regarding another murder that is showing promising signs of being connected.”
“That explains the smell.”
Erwin smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. The body was well into early stages of decay. What I’m currently working on is confirming that the crime is linked to my suspects and not a result of a copy-cat doing it for attention.” He watched Levi remove the boiling kettle from the stove, eyes raking over his figured thoughtfully which Levi tried to not shift under. “Have you taken the time to consider what I asked you?”
Levi retracted a mug from the cabinet, reluctantly setting it on the counter and facing Erwin. He realized he was subconsciously using it as a barrier between him and the reaper. “Yes... What do you intend to do to Tybur?”
“That’s yet to be determined,” Erwin stated plainly. “There’re too many unknowns about what his involvement is, but if I had it my way,” he burdened his entire attention onto Levi, “it wouldn’t end in a trial.”
He remained quiet, absorbing the somewhat unspoken implications and weighing it with his own motives. It seemed they had a similar goal, one that could benefit Levi if he was reading the man’s intentions correctly.
Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in thought, Levi followed up with, “What can I anticipate if I agree? Regarding the training, that is.”
“I think it’s safe to say you need exposure, first and foremost. That’ll be the largest hurdle. Additionally, we’ll need to research rehabilitation facilities and find one that’s... lenient or customizable to our situation. Like I mentioned yesterday, we only have to fake it to get you registered. It’s all for show.”
Levi knew his distrust and apprehension was displayed across his face, but he didn’t try to tamp it down.
Erwin tilted his head to the side, regarding him with that same invasive probing. “Tell me, is your dislike for vampires due to your treatment under Tybur or is it something else?”
Avoiding the man’s gaze, Levi pretended to evaluate the kitchen finger tapping idly on the counter. “They aren’t any better than parasites who view themselves above all others. They think they’re the better, stronger species, but to me I couldn’t care if they were eradicated.”
He could taste Erwin’s displeasure at his overly truthful answer, even without looking. Even if he couldn't, it was clear in the reprimanding tone of his voice. “Not all of them are like that.”
“All the ones I’ve met were.”
The offhanded reply instantly nettled the reaper.
“That’s my friend you’re grouping together with Tybur, Levi. And quite frankly, it’s not a fair assessment to make. You’ve seen for yourself that Hange defended you against the others at the annex even after you’d been nothing but aggressive towards her.”
Levi refused to respond or show that he even heard Erwin, no doubt provoking him further.
Shaking his head Erwin circled in for another admonishment, in the way one escalated to get a reaction, “If you want to stay off the wrong end of the needle, you need to understand that while your hatred is justified for Tybur and his followers, it’s misplaced on those who never did anything to you. I can’t side with someone who’d lumpsum an entire species as guilty for what the few did.”
Expression screwing into a mordant glower, Levi knocked the empty mug hard on the counter. “Fuck off. How about you go get treated the same for decades and see if you're still feeling high-and-mighty afterwards! I doubt you'd be singing the same noble tune.”
Rather than raising his voice, Erwin shook his head, keeping his tone level with disappointment. “This isn’t going to work between us if you can’t move past that mindset. Ironically, Hange is the best person I know to help people manage their trauma, but,” he smirked dolefully, “that’s obviously out the window.”
Gritting his teeth, Levi spat, “Don’t fucking worry about it. Tybur is the only one I want. I can manage my opinion with the rest.”
The quirk of the thick blond brow indicated Erwin’s disbelief. “Bullshit, Levi. I’d like to see that for myself.”
This cocky bastard was really challenging him? Levi rolled his eyes, refusing to respond. But Erwin wasn’t letting the subject fly away so easily.
“Why don’t we put it to the test, hm? We’ll start with you socializing with others and work our way up to vampires. If we go out and there’s a vampire in the area before you're ready, we’ll simply let you stay in the car.”
“Like a dog?” Levi retaliated as he felt his nails elongate and dig into the mug, sending Erwin a venomous glare that could peel paint. “Gonna crack the window, too?”
Erwin unflappably retorted, “Of course. Wouldn’t want you to overheat.”
Levi felt the mug chip under the pressure of his grip, but not enough to break it. He wanted to punch him, he really did. He itched to take those two steps to the side of the island and take a swing--but the mug's complaints and spidery cracks kept his legs rooted. The cruel reply simmered on his tongue, letting his thoughts catch up to his anger and seized a modicum of control back. Adjusting his internally combusting ire into diluted frustration, he told himself that now was not the time nor place to release the string of accusations he had built up in the back of his throat.
The reaper must have sensed the withering hold of his control because after a minute or so passed, he reigned in his own provocation. Allowing time for the atmosphere to return to quiet and calm, Erwin pushed away from his place and went to the kettle. Levi shifted agitatedly, turning away to hide his raw emotions from observation.
He understood where Erwin was coming from, the way Levi sounded wasn't lost on him. But fuck--that man didn't understand. He didn't live through decades of torment that Levi had, being stripped down to bone, naked with his only source of survival being the vampire responsible for putting him there. Practically 30 fucking years of his life. All stuck in various degrees of torture and isolation and fighting pits. The sick level of dependency Levi had for Tybur while simultaneously wanting to kill him, knowing it was as good as suicide as a result.
30 fucking years...
Levi tried to locate his shame for his brash statement, but he couldn't find any. Though... that didn't make sense. He was never raised to think that way about outsiders and he was certain he was amicable with vampires in the past. How far back that was, he couldn't say. Couldn't even recall a name or face of someone he didn't label a threat before getting captured.
Had his humanity been so thoroughly stripped that he'd become a xenophobic asshole, willing to kill any vampire as soon as he scented them? Why didn't he feel bad about it? Where was the guilt? Then, as he thought on it longer, he realized that it wasn't necessarily a conscious decision on his part. Borne out of decades of painful conditioning and unintentional Pavlovian response. Something Tybur hadn't wittingly designed, but found amusing all the same. Did that mean Levi was in control of his warped will or was it fundamentally programmed into him now?
Lost in thought, he didn't realize when Erwin drew in close, holding a newly filled mug out to him. Absently, Levi accepted it, barely noticing as Erwin slipped out of his personal bubble to take the seat at the counter. The reminiscent aroma of a bakery wafted to him as Levi peered at the new tea, imagining a lemon tart sharing the same notes.
Recalling the previous argument between them, Levi held his scornful gaze on Erwin as he took a rude slurp of the tea. The reaper was unimpressed by the noise, face falling flat. It spurred a moment of triumph in Levi before the sweetness of the tea drew his interest in. Well, shit. The reaper would pick a good tea. Glancing up, he met Erwin’s waiting boastful smirk, no doubt reading Levi's surprise from his micro expressions.
"How is it?"
This arrogant, sly piece of... Breathe.
"It's fine."
"Only fine, Levi?" he asked playfully, not hiding the attempt to smooth over the previous hard feelings.
"... I've had better."
"Well, I would hope so," he retorted, composed in the face of Levi's curt answers, "I was restricted to the grocery store aisles for selection, not an imported teashop."
Levi decided to try to block him out by directing his attention to the window on his right. Maybe the reaper could read that body language and take a hint. He wasn’t sure how much clearer he needed to be that he wasn't in the mood to argue or play games. But for the man appearing so intelligent, he wasn't keen to respect boundaries.
“Is it true, Levi? That you’re not a wolven?”
Levi felt his shoulders tense at the unexpected--and personal--topic change. Without facing Erwin completely, he settled on listing a glance in his peripheral, intrigued to know where Erwin was leading him to.
“Where’d you get that impression?”
“Well, I’m not sure if I’m helping her case, but Hange specializes in various biological niches. One of them, predictably being hematology. Your bloodwork from GSIS indicated your RNA was different than Lycanthropes and Loup-garous.”
Taking the information in, he tried to filter what he wanted to say and what to avoid. What consequences were around the corner for answering, and what benefits could be collected from an admission. Eventually, Levi settled on a simple response.
“Your friend is smart.”
There. See? He could be amicable. He gave that crazy Hange person credit in the form of a compliment. Any concerns for having an intolerant creature in the home was pointless. Or so, that’s what Levi hoped his answer conveyed. His thoughts started to drift back to the question of what was in his control and what wasn't. He never used to be that reactive to other species before Tybur.
“So, what are you, Levi?” Erwin insisted, drawing Levi outward before he sank too deeply in his thoughts again.
“What do you think I am?”
“A smartass,” Erwin countered, smirking at his own jest that Levi reluctantly chuffed at. The reaper then grew serious. “I think you’re a Black Shuck. Otherwise known as a Hellhound.”
Meeting the acute gaze, Levi hung on it. The stare was neither uncomfortable nor intrusive, simply lingering for a beat as they openly considered one another, wondering what would happen next. In moments like these, it was easy to tolerate the burden of Erwin’s attention, as if the spotlight wasn’t too bright or hot, but soothing like Spring’s sunny rays.
He could feel an invisible draw like a cord being reeled from somewhere in his chest. Rather than turn against it, Levi braced his palms on the counter, so he could inch forward. His voice was quiet as he asked, “What do you know of Hellhounds?”
Mimicking the motion, Erwin planted his forearms on the counter, nudging the laptop aside to give him space. His position on the barstool placed him a few inches lower than Levi who stood over him. In an equally hushed tone to match, as if the subject warranted care, he answered:
“Not much at all. What information there is regarding Hellhounds is mostly lore from different regions and periods. The most popular among them being the Greek Cerberus.”
Levi felt the corner of his lips quirk; previous annoyance fading to static in the background. He let his eyes trace over Erwin’s face, down his chin and neck, then back up. “I was used to being called a Grim. Personally, I liked that more than Hellhound.”
The irony of a Grim and a Reaper wasn’t lost on him, sounding like a dumb joke.
“Are there more of your kind?” Erwin’s lowered voice held an eager expectation to it, and Levi wasn’t sure if he was leaning closer or if it was Erwin. “I assume you have a family somewhere out there.”
Instantly, the strange magnetic attraction was disturbed, crumbling as Levi withdrew and straightened. The innocent inquiry unburied the unwanted memories along with haunting questions that Levi had no answers to. Images of a forest, hiding beneath the wet rotting wood of a downed tree, the scent of loam and sound of feet stomping through the brush around them. Tender hands braced against his arm, trembling at his back....
Swallowing, Levi blinked the thoughts away, trying to not retreat inwards. “I did have a family. At one point.”
The next thing Levi realized, there was a foreign snugness encasing his hand. Instinctively, he zeroed in on the source while simultaneously tugging back. But Erwin’s grip only tightened. Not enough to restrict him completely. If Levi wanted to, a firm jerk would free him, but enough to coax Levi to allow it. Just to tolerate the gesture for only a fragile moment.
“I fear if I keep apologizing, you'll only grow tired of it,” Erwin ventured, not daring to move any more than cupping Levi’s cold fingers. “That being said, I’ll try to modulate my curiosity, although I sense it will be equivalent to navigating a minefield. I don’t suspect you’ve had many years where you weren’t faced with challenges.”
“I don’t need your pity,” Levi spat, but it sounded weak to his ears as his eyes bouncing from where they connected to Erwin’s face before dropping. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t pulling away. His quickened pulse should’ve triggered his survival response, and yet his instincts to detect danger were decidedly absent.
A small, closed-lipped smile broke free from the reaper. “It’s not pity. I’m merely trying to understand, all while being repeatedly reminded that I have a poor way of going about it.”
“That’s one description for your methods,” Levi muttered dryly. His breathing was shallowing out again, perspiration beading in patches under his shirt.
Pull away. Why am I not pulling away?
Erwin shook his head, appearing almost amazed at something Levi couldn’t identify.
“I had wondered why Tybur was determined to hide you,” he said softly. “It’s not just your never-quit spirit, but what you are. You’re everything he ever wanted as a secret weapon and more, aren’t you?” He fell quiet for a moment, his grip twitched against Levi’s palm. “It’s a shame I’m going to keep you from him.”
On the surface, it was a simple statement of not letting his captor regain control of Levi again. He supposed it wasn’t unusual for a member of law enforcement to make as an assertion--after all, it was their job. But the way Erwin claimed it while holding eye contact and his hand, Levi swore he sensed possessiveness. His stomach lurched when he detected it, like a sudden drop off a cliff.
It was enough to slip his hand from the reaper with the speed of a whipcrack, detaching so he could hold the mug instead. A pitiful porcelain shield.
“He’ll keep looking for me.” Levi confirmed bitterly, because he knew it like he knew his own name. There was a deep familiarization with possessive monsters and Tybur was the cruelest of them all. Erwin... he wasn't quite sure yet, but he recognized the warning signs. “He’ll find me eventually.”
“I have no doubt he’ll try,” Erwin conceded, undeterred by Levi's transparent unease. “But he’ll never get you back. I imagine it must hold some appeal to not be the only one to oppose him.”
Levi needed to change the subject. The strange tension morphing between them was turning suffocating. It was becoming difficult to manage his reactions, and he feared if he let his discomfort slip beneath Erwin’s watchfulness, the power balance would shift. And that wasn't even addressing the fact that Erwin was throwing out brazen statements that may or may not have held truth. Something Levi really didn't want to acknowledge.
Turning toward the laptop, Levi tilted his chin at it. “I stole a peek at the picture you had up. I noticed you’re reviewing seals.”
A cowardly way out of the discussion, but Levi never claimed to be unshakable.
“Yes,” Erwin graciously allowed the shift in topic. “Some of the victims had seals placed on them when they were murdered.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
Surprise fluttered across Erwin’s face, which Levi personally took as a victory. “Certainly.”
He woke the laptop up and passed it to Levi who leaned over to review the images on the screen. “How do you make them bigger?”
Erwin stood up to circle the island. Despite the internal anxiety ramping up at the reaper’s approach, Levi merely stepped to the side just so he wasn’t in the way. Close enough to smell the fresh bodywash and could touch if he bent his elbow.
After clicking and zooming on the images, Erwin mirrored Levi shifting aside, however he loitered in place. Ignoring the hovering, Lev aimed his attention to the pictures.
“My knowledge is limited regarding occult seals,” Erwin explained. “Despite that, I do recognize and understand some of the runes that the killers had put in place.”
“Mmm. The one on the chest is messy. I don’t know why they tried to tattoo it on the chest of all places. There’s not much meat there and if the subject was squirming, it’d explain why you can’t read it.”
“The seals were placed before the victims were killed, so that was our theory as well.”
“That seal over the heart is more legible but those runes aren’t even in the proper zenith or plane to know what they were trying to do. I don’t recognize the sigil they were going for either. And this third one looks much the same... It feels like someone is just fucking with you or having fun.”
Erwin tilted his head curiously, “Have you studied occult circles before? You seem sufficiently knowledgeable.”
Levi shrugged. “My uncle taught me a few things, but I’m not great with them. I only know the basics.”
“Is that a normal subject to pass down amongst Grims?”
Smirking, Levi considered his answer, choosing something vague. “Hounds are associated with the Netherworld. I’m sure you can conclude what sort of knowledge comes with evocation circles.”
Brows arching, Erwin’s thirst for answers was no doubt hooked, urging him to interrogate further. But he relented and gestured to another picture on the screen for Levi. “What can you deduce from this one?”
Levi examined it, noticing the immediate difference of application. Rather than harsh black lines, it was scabbed and bloody from being carved. That wasn’t the only variance, though. “It looks like someone actually took their time to keep the runes in the correct place. The sigil is still unfamiliar, but it appears to be a complete seal. I'd bet money it's a different person who applied it.”
“Did Tybur have any interest in the occult?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. My... interactions with him were of a different variety than summoning circles.”
“What about his followers?”
Levi shook his head, finding it surprisingly easy to speak on the subject. Whether that was because it wasn’t directly about him or because he was becoming more comfortable around Erwin, it wasn’t clear.
“I wouldn’t know. There were a select few that ever handled me aside from Tyber himself. The asshole has a God-complex as if he’s untouchable and he certainly thinks humans are closer to cattle than equals. His opinion on wolvens isn’t any better, but nothing he’s ever done made me think he toyed with seals or runes...” Levi paused, suddenly recalling someone else he hadn’t considered. “There was another person in his coven that was odd. A family member of his that always hovered around my cell like a gnat. She’d asked Tyber to run some alchemy tests or some shit on me in the past, but Tybur always forbid it. Said if I ever died in the ring, she could play with my corpse. He was oddly possessive like that.”
When he lifted his gaze, he met an unfamiliar shadow hovering over Erwin’s expression. The acute disapproval twisted a sense of unease inside Levi, on the brink of turning into an instinctual alarm from standing so close to the unknown threat. He couldn’t tell if Erwin’s silence and unwavering attention was borne from displeasure of something Levi said, or the results of coming to terms with a difficult decision. The question that mattered was, did that mean Levi was in danger? Was that decision based on Levi's usefulness?
A chime from the laptop made Levi jump, followed by a scathing glare. The prior tension dissipated from the reaper who opened the email, not commenting on the way Levi took extra steps back.
“Great,” he sighed.
“What is it?” Levi asked, nervousness rearing its ugly head.
“I’ve been assigned a gleaning tomorrow. I don’t think Shadis submitted the change form with the new end date on my consulting contract. As a result, it appears that the Registry is showing I’m active for reaper duties again.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, that I’ll have to find time tomorrow to squeeze it in. If you want to stay at the house, we can work on reintroductions another day.”
Levi folded his arms over his chest. “Why delay it? I have to do it eventually.”
Erwin hesitated. “Yes. But you certainly don’t need to feel obligated to come along for this.”
Shrugging, not committing one way or another to Erwin's counter argument, he asked, “What’s a gleaning entail anyway?”
Erwin seemed tentative on sharing the details, but the pause was short-lived.
“Gleaning assignments are issued to non-government working reapers. Basically, like Jury Duty but more frequent. The Supra Regulatory Commission constantly monitor statistics of death and birth ratios along with current resources from the planet, and many other factors. It’s a lot of boring research, is what I’m getting at.” Erwin rubbed the back of his neck, turning his head to the side to stretch it out. “Reapers stay busy keeping the balance. SRC generates a list of three names at random and assigns them out. It’s a lottery no one wants to win, but it mitigates bias from the reaper conducting the gleaning. Usually, the list has the profiles of selectees and it’s up to the reaper to choose which one to glean from there.”
Opening the file linked in the email, he spun the screen for Levi to see what he was referencing. Three profiles with three pictures stared back. Below each name was an exert declaring all three were humans.
“Do other species get selected too?”
“Yes. All except Reapers. Humans are the least troublesome if they put up resistance. If they have guns, that’s a different story, but otherwise easy enough.” He scrolled through the profiles, not bothered by Levi reading over his shoulder.
The screen changed to show the home addresses of the targets. The first was homeless man and had a note of last known shelter. The second, a female nurse at a hospital and the third was a father of two children.
“Good news is that they’re fairly local. If it was out of state, reapers will have a few days to complete it, but if the assignment is your residential state, we’re allotted 48 hours. Most of the time, they send reapers further away for their gleanings.”
“Why?”
“There’re more chances of a reaper befriending a subject that was chosen and that would alter the natural order. Bias would become a factor so that’s usually why we’re sent to different states.”
As Erwin closed the laptop, Levi pondered him for a beat. “So? Which will you choose?”
The reaper merely shrugged. “I usually leave it to chance. I’ll go about my day tomorrow and will likely settle on the one closest to me when I finish my tasks.”
Brows knitting together Levi couldn’t seem to make sense over it. “Doesn’t that make it harder?”
“As opposed to what? Researching them and getting to know the chosen marks?” Erwin appeared to enjoy Levi’s interest, though there was something that gave Levi the impression he wasn’t fully comfortable with the line of questioning. “Learning about who you’re assigned to glean makes it harder to not apply your opinions to. It isn’t mine or any reaper’s place for our morals to dictate what we value in others. Death comes to everyone. We are not Gods. We’re simply the gatekeepers. It’s disrespectful to the souls to pretend to be anything else.”
“I feel like the argument could be the same for just going after whoever is closest.”
“Perhaps,” a fond smirk coiled as that gaze penetrated Levi. “Fate is a fickle creature and playing with what’s placed in front of you can have consequences and rewards that are outside of predicting. There is no fair way of gleaning, Levi. It’s been a running debate for a long time, and I fear there is no answer I can provide you with.”
Levi mulled it over, finding that every solution he conjured had a counter argument for how there was still potential for bias. He wasn’t necessarily discouraged by Erwin’s explanation. His knowledge of Reapers was likely the same as Erwin’s was on Grims. There were many unknowns, and it was unfair to pass judgment when one was so ignorant.
“I’m interested in tagging along, if that’s alright. Not so much for the socialization you’re plotting, but I’m curious what a Reaper’s job is... You know, when they’re not starting shit at rehab centers,” the attempt at a dry joke did not seem to land quite as he anticipated.
Erwin’s answering hum lacked any sort of elation for Levi to see his role in gleaning, and the strained smile died shortly after forming. Levi noted that the frequent peacock mentality was decidedly absent.
“Very well, Levi. I’ll be interested to hear your thoughts on the matter.”
Not for the first time, Levi was certain he detected a lie.
Notes:
Wonder what's got Erwin clamming up now...
Sorry for the drawn-out chapter. There was some randomness thrown in, but I figured a bit of character exploration wouldn't hurt.
Next chapter will be a part 1 of Levi's backstory. Part 2 will be a little later. But I'm really excited for everyone to read more about him and the hellhound side of things. More world building. :3
Thank you for all your continued support! It's such a different AU from my usual writing and I'm having fun navigating the finer details of characters and psyche. All the kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and mean so much so thank you again! Until next time, stay safe!! 🩶🖤
Chapter 15: Count down, little Moth
Notes:
TW: Canon typical violence, a lot of death, and just general unpleasantness.
This is also the part where I’m going to make an umbrella disclaimer for the fic. I do not claim to be an expert on countries I write about or specific events, although I have done HOURS of research at this point in the fic and tried to keep everything as factual as possible. That being said, I am pulling inspiration (feels dirty to use that word in this context) from historic events and the negative side of human condition--which is not a reflection of my own opinion in anyway.
Also, this chapter will be a change of pace, so I'm curious what you think 😊 Terms and translations are in End Notes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
Lackabranner, Ireland, 25 December 1876
_____________________________________
“What do you mean it’s not my natal day? Are you losing track of your dates now?”
“The fuck you talking about? I know what date it is.”
“I’d hope so, seeing as I just told you,” Levi was already becoming cross, and they haven’t been in each other’s presence for more than two minutes.
Kenny knocked the wide brim hat back with his knuckle as he squinted at the whitewashed sky.
“Mmmmm, nope. Pretty sure yer fuckin with me. It’s only the 23rd.” He leveled his hawkish gaze down his nose at Levi, “So, ya gonna let me in or make me stay out here all day till I freeze my balls off?”
Levi, appearing barely over the mark of 10 years old despite turning 15, fixed his uncle with a foul deadpanned stare. Stingily, he stepped aside, allowing access to the cottage.
“Well, it’s obviously what’s going on here. Instead of manning up to your mistake, your peabrain thought pretending to lose track of the day would keep you out of mum’s wrath.” Levi shut the door and crossed his arms as Kenny worked on removing his soiled, derelict boots. “Just wait until I pass along your sorry excuse to her. I can’t to see how she takes to it, you geriatric, memory-losing bastard.”
“Oi, brat,” Kenny straightened as he casually dropped a boot, causing clumps of mud and likely horse manure to crumble loose. “Watch how ya speaken to me. I know Kuchel doesn’t let you curse like that. Trying to raise you all gentrified and clever and shit. You sound like a miscreant.”
“Hm, I’m impressed. That’s two words that I didn’t know were in your vocabulary.”
Kenny barked out a laugh, “Fuck off, brat. If Kuchel catches ya, I’m not taking the blame. If you ain’t careful, you’ll just disappoint her.”
Despite his chiding, Kenny was clearly enjoying himself. Both knew he didn’t mean it. He only nagged Levi out of some charade at adult obligations. And to avoid being thwacked by his sister. The man found Levi’s foul language endearing, always liberating a proud narrow-lipped grin.
“Besides. Even if yer correct on the date, it ain’t the Black Moon, so what’s it even matter anyhow?”
“This argument again?” Levi rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Go eat some mushy porridge and take your daily nap, old fuck.”
“Boy, who’ve you been hanging around to be so snappy with your comebacks? I’d take credit but I ain’t seen you in months.”
“Whose fault is that?”
Kenny grumbled under his breath, hand docking heavily on his nephew’s head where he ruffled his hair. Levi batted him away, which only encouraged Kenny to adjust his attack by pinching Levi’s arms and tossing light slaps to the boy’s body and back of the head. Not willing to take the older Grim’s badgering, Levi whirled back and sent a fist to his gut.
“Oof,” Kenny folded forward with a grunt, “Nice one... for a 6-year-old.”
“Tch. 15. I ain’t—I am not 6.” Great. He was already starting to contract Kenny’s strange mix of transatlantic drawl, layered over European colloquialism. He’d happily adopt cursing, but lazy speaking patterns was where Levi drew the line. “Knock it off with that Black Moon shit. You’re the only one who finds it funny.”
“Eh, don’t think yer so special. Same rule applies to people born—”
“On Leap Year, I know,” Levi glared. “And for your information, it doesn’t. They celebrate their natal day each year the same as everyone else.”
He was tired of hearing the repetitive worn-out joke. Hellhounds were only ever born on the Black Moon, which was the name for the second new moon of a calendar month. Hence the poor subject material for Kenny’s teasing. Every year it was the same: ‘The date didn’t matter. Only the moon.’--Insert overbearing mocking drawl here.
Seriously, the guy needed to get out more. Maybe find something to improve his crappy sense of humor.
“Well, yer a smart runt. Add it up. A Black Moon only ever occurs roughly 29 months, so really, yer turning 6. I never made the rules. That’s just how it is for us, Grims.”
“If that’s the case, you look terrible for your age.”
Kenny’s flippancy took a moment to dim, as the insult eventually settled into his thick skull. “Oi! Take that back! I’m a fine specimen, ya heathen.”
Levi snorted, a sly cat-like smirk curling. “See? Now that’s a good joke.”
“Devils be damned, yer about to get it kid. You ain’t tough enough to be talking that way and win a wrestling match.”
It was during that part of their bantering that Kuchel walked in, carrying a basket of vegetables she’d picked from her garden. Levi wasted no time abandoning his uncle to take the basket from her and deliver it to the narrow kitchen.
“Ah, thank you, stóirín,” she turned toward her brother, brows lifting expectantly. “I thought I heard quarrelling. Should’ve known you decided to drop by judging by Levi’s tone.”
Kenny grinned as he strode over to her, wrapping his sister in a constricting embrace, even lifting the petite woman until she could only touch the floor with the toes of her shoes.
“Hiya, Kuchel. Figured I’d stop in and make sure yer two were doing alright. I know how brutal winter can be here alone. Hopin’ I can help ya out with the heavy lifting if needed.”
While Kenny didn’t mean alone in the literal sense, it didn’t distract from how it was tailored toward Kuchel specifically. After all, the only interaction Levi had with his late father was the first month after his birth, which hardly even counted in his opinion. He couldn’t describe a single thing about the man if anyone ever asked.
Even though Levi was born less than a decade after An Gorta Mór, otherwise known as the Great Famine, the country continued to suffer getting back onto its feet. Especially, with Irish nationalist fighting a second front for their people’s independence against the Brits in Canada. Levi’s uncle (on his father’s side) had been a member of the Fenians in North America and requested his brother’s help. Believing that the fight over the Atlantic was a premonition of what would boomerang to Ireland, his father left to get his brother out of danger. Despite being a half-demon devoted to providing for Kuchel and Levi, the man couldn’t turn his back on his brother, which Kuchel rightfully understood. She would never deny helping Kenny if he ever needed it.
It was upon a particularly dirty skirmish of trying to flee with his brother in tow from Canada that Levi’s father was killed. Not an easy feat, even if he was only a half-demon. But that was the unfortunate result after England enlisted the help of priests to supply relics. The same objects which were weaponize against the so-called “unholy Abnormals” who raised arms against them.
If anyone thought that the signing of the Treaty with humans would be a smooth integration, they had a brutal wake-up call.
Having taken place 28 years after the signing of the Foedus Aequum of 1848, the worldwide battle for tolerance and equal rights was a bloody, musket fueled, and claw snagging time in history. Prejudice and fear were unmitigated throughout the nations, and some pockets of the world even reverted to an elevated reenactment of the Witch Hunts. The realization that these creatures had lived among them for so long and were now infusing with society was too much for some people to process without losing their minds.
Hatred was a gift humanity nurtured themselves when it came to the unknown. Fear and pandering of monarchs had long since mastered how to entice desperation in the ignorant. And the Church’s voice, of all religions, had some say on the matter which stoked pious discontent.
Since then, Kenny had done all he could to convince Kuchel to bring Levi and live with him, but she refused. It was their dream to raise Levi in Ireland, were the land held magic and was tucked away from most humans. She couldn’t turn her back on their vision for fear of being discovered as a Supra and attacked. Not when she and Levi were happy and safe on their plot of land. Here was home. Choosing to go with Kenny meant never allowing Levi to experience it, forever on the move from one country to the next.
While Kenny could never win an argument against her, he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t stop pestering them about leaving one day, believing that staying stagnant meant death. Until the day came when Kuchel finally gave in, he’d stop by any chance he could to check with his family between his travels. Having almost lost Kuchel during the famine, he was damn sure not going to let his family flirt with the Netherworld again if he could help it.
All this to say, he was the closest figure to a father that Levi had come to know.
“We’re grand,” she laughed once she was set down. “Aren’t we, Levi? One of our neighbors gifted us two wool blankets from the sheep they sheered last spring, and we’re excited to use them by the fire when the snow sticks.”
Kenny snorted shooting a mischievous, toothy grin at Levi. “That right? Yer excited to be smelling like sheep shit, runt?”
Levi wrinkled his nose at the imagery. “The only one smelling like shit is you—”
“Levi Ackerman,” Kuchel reprimanded, knuckles finding perch on her hips.
“Sorry, mum.”
Kenny snickered and stuck his tongue out at his chastised nephew, which Kuchel promptly pinched between her fingers with snake-striking speed. The squeeze was fixed tight, preventing him from retracting the appendage behind his lips.
“Oi, wuman, w’et go ov me.”
“Stop acting like an unruly pup or I’ll keep treating you like one,” she promised darkly, releasing his tongue and wiping the saliva damp fingers on his sleeve.
Levi tried to smother a victorious smirk but when she saw it, she only mimicked him. It was a good day when they could team up against Kenny.
Returning to his task of separating and bundling the vegetables, Levi said casually over his shoulder, “Uncle Kenny’s going on about Black Moons again. Said he forgot it’s my natal day.”
Kenny lashed his glare onto Levi’s back. “I never said I forgot. Cheeky devil.”
“You told me it’s the 23rd.”
“Yeah. And I’m sure it is somewhere. Stop getting yer panties twisted. I ain’t forgetting your lunar day.” As he faced Kuchel, he flinched at her cocked hip and folded arms. Holding his hands up in surrender, he amended, “What? You know I’d never forget. Why do ya think I’m here for?”
“Good. You can help with supper.”
***
Despite Kenny living a nomadic lifestyle, always popping up at the most unexpected times, reintegrating into the routine with Kuchel and Levi was surprisingly seamless. Even in the kitchen, the chores were wordlessly passed to the preferred individual and each one moved around the tiny cottage as if it was a coordinated dance.
Levi enjoyed the quiet moments such as those. When his mother had someone else to help her and the lines of her delicate face didn’t appear as sunken. He did his best to take on as much responsibility as he could, yet Kuchel was a proud woman and protective mother. Whatever she put her mind to, she carried out with nary a detail neglected. It was intimidating, and yet her efforts shared the same vein as inspiring. The last thing she would allow was for Levi to take on more than she considered proper.
“You do too much as it is, leamhan. I wish you’d go play more than fret over working all the time. There’ll be plenty of that when you’re older.”
The problem was her illness had since passed the point of ever hoping for improvement. Despite the unphased mask she wore, it never fooled Levi. The persistent cough, unsteady legs, and wan complexion appeared both drained and flushed in varying patches. On the bad days, her arguments against his help would petter out quicker, hardly putting up a fight before she reluctantly took a break in the shade to hide her symptoms. A string of apologies would predictably tumble out soon after, which Levi was hasty to put an end to.
Every time was the same. He’d stand taller as he doubled up the bags of grain or pales of water, kissing her cheek or forehead as she rested while he carried the brunt of the day’s work to the field or livestock. Never did he utter a complaint from the grueling labor, aside from how she needed to take care of herself more.
So, it was nice to have Kenny step in because the man was just as bullheaded as Kuchel, and at some point, she had learned to accept his assistance. Devils knew that if she didn’t, Kenny would only end up trying to help with something he wasn’t familiar with and create a mess.
The last lesson came at the expense of the three of them running all night, deep into the misty crags while trying to collect their wayward sheep because some numbskull left the gate open. They didn’t return until the wee hours, soaked from the constant drizzle, paws and bellies matted with sticky mire from the bogs. It was laughable now. But certainly not at the time.
Speaking of that chore delegation...
“Levi, can you go feed the animals and bring them in? It’s getting dark.”
Lessons learned and Levi suddenly surpassed her brother in trustworthiness. At least where livestock were concerned.
Shooting a knowing look at Kenny, whose lips were pressed in a thin line, Levi smirked, “Sure can.”
He set the last of the plates on the table before grabbing his coat and tugging on his boots. Heading into the dropping temperatures, Levi whisked about his chores, pleased it wasn’t raining sleet yet. The faint sweetness of petrichor was layering within the atmosphere as the sky prepared to open soon, rushing him along.
Tucked between rolling hills with the forest a manageable distance away, the cottage’s lamps flickered gently in the dying daylight. The terrain protected them from the brutal coastal winds while not being far enough inland to receive troublesome bouts of snow. As for the neighbors, they were located further away to where not even their lanterns at night were visible from the hills.
Quaint and secluded, just as they liked it.
How they needed it.
After bringing in the chattering ducks—his favorite of the livestock---and tossing straw to their cow, Levi hurried back inside, knowing the rain was coming and supper would be finishing soon. Kuchel had been working hard on the beef stew, another of Levi’s favorites, for his lunar meal. To be honest, he had been looking forward to it for the past week. Their lifestyle of living off the land and trading with the locals left finances flirting with depletion, therefore a hearty stew, braised from the day prior, had become tradition rather than gifts. And frankly, it was nice to treat themselves to beef once a year when they usually feasted on mutton, rabbit, venison, and occasionally fish.
The young grim slipped inside the front door, gusty breeze trying to force its way in after him. Levi shuddered off a chill and rubbed his hands together to get feeling back. The gloves he usually wore were threadbare and tattered, not really having a point in putting them on any longer. Just the little time he was outside, his fingers were puffy and red, feeling like tiny needles were digging under his skin. He shook his hands out, trying to get blood flow back before hanging his coat up and toeing his boots to the side.
As Levi was about to enter the kitchen to ask if the adults needed help, he paused around the corner to the sound of harsh whispers. There was a sense of worry underlining the discussion, drawing Levi to lean in and listen.
“Yer’ve not heard from Jonas? He’s really not reached out at all?” Kenny asked, legs and arms crossed as he stood against the counter beside Kuchel.
She continued to wipe down the wooden top with a damp rag, “Not since late summer. Why? Has something happened?”
Kenny lingered for a moment in thought before shrugging. “Not sure. There’s not been a peep from him.”
“Maybe they’re traveling.”
“At the start of winter with an infant? He ain’t that stupid.”
“Well, a pup is a handful, even with two parents. Wouldn’t surprise me that they’re just busy and holed up somewhere for a while. I’m sure everything’s fine.”
Kenny’s blank stare at the wall made it clear he wasn’t in agreement, that he suspected it was something else.
Not sure what could be stirring the tension, Levi emerged from the corner, drawing their notice.
“Do you think something happened with Jonas?” he asked as casually as he could, not hiding the fact he overheard via eavesdropping, “They aren’t in trouble or anything, are they?”
Grims were not native to the living realm (naturally hailing from the dark abyss of the Netherworld), so the few hellhounds that had escaped were scarce in numbers as it was. Some ended up returning to the Infernal region with their tails tucked between their legs, while others stayed, only to be hunted for being mistaken for wolves (werewolf or animal counterpart alike). And if that wasn’t enough of a danger for Grims, not understanding the various species that lived among them in the new realm was its own hazard. Crossing paths with vampires, humans armed with munitions, and larger wolven species did not favor the brave hellhounds seeking refuge. Ignorance of crossing such vast territories had come with a cost.
The Ackerman clan were a unique pedigree of hellhound, highly sought after by many demons for their ability to form unbreakable bonds with their handlers. If a demon managed an immortal tie with one, it attracted the attention amongst creatures in the Netherworld and even made those intimidating opponents take a step back. There were even talks of Gods being envious of having devoted loyalty as that of an Ackerman Hellhound. But to the family, it was a curse. A genetically misaligned algorithm that put a target on their backs and subjected them to blind obedience if their counterpart so wished. Many had perished under their demon captors or handlers when a bond failed to form, thus labeled as a biological deficient mutt. A product of diluted bloodlines.
The role of Grims, under demon partnership, was to be sent into the mortal world to collect the souls of anyone who made a deal. Or who were stupid enough to play with sacred things they had no business fooling with. Rightfully so, loyalty was paramount in such handlings. Demons could only cross the gateway if properly summoned on the other side, but that was not the desired outcome. Getting back to the Netherworld as a demon was problematic and usually weakened them passing realms, if not killed them. The last thing a demon wanted was to return ill-equipped and too drained to protect themselves from other hungrier creatures of their kind. The word ‘cannibalism’ didn’t seem to do the carnage justice. Hence the domestication of the hellhounds who were equipped for such passages.
As a result, if a bond with an Ackerman couldn’t be formed, there was no guarantee that the souls of the damned would be returned to the demon as ordered. Not with the willful clan who was known for their cunning to outsmart demons and devils alike. At least, with the lesser hellhound pedigrees, their determination and mental fortitude could be shattered and remolded into servile compliance.
Ackermans were trickier than that.
Eventually, way before Levi’s time, when Ackermans were on the brink of extinction, his grandfather and a surviving distant branch of the family orchestrated an escape into the living realm. At the time it was his grandfather, Jonas and his parents, Kuchel and Kenny.
Six Ackerman Grims.
Today, the remaining members were only Kenny, Kuchel, Levi, Jonas and his wife, and their newborn daughter, Mikasa. The remnants of a once powerful clan were reduced to scraps. Still a firm number of five, as Mikasa’s mother was human, but not the number they could have been.
Kenny was the unofficial head of the clan now, though he’d reject that title and likely pour his drink on you if anyone brought it up. That didn’t stop Kuchel from elevating him to the role when it was only her and Levi around. The way he would travel between their cottage to Jonas’ few homes, constantly monitoring and keeping accountability was what brought it on. He’d deny up and down he wasn’t the responsible type, but it fit him well. If Kenny had it his way, the family would be living on a communal strip of land near a sleepy town of pubs, dark streets, and graveyards. Unfortunately, everyone else mutually agreed it was safer to stay split up.
Demons weren’t the only ones interested in finding Grims. Folklore did them no favors and with Supras having begun their integration into human society, it was tremulous times indeed. Rumors of German and Russian scientists kidnapping wolven pups and vulnerable vampires to conduct experiments were circulating more and more, usually with talks of war on its heels. Then there were the human groups burning down homes after barricading Supra families inside in the middle of the night. More horror stories of cruelty amongst different species. But it wasn’t merely one sided.
Supras were in no way taking the abuse politely. Many fought back, resulting in a macabre entry in the newspaper, all detailing the mutilation and massacre which was far outside of human abilities to create. Then there were the groups of Supras searching out trouble in the name of ‘Reparations’, using the excuse of being hunted in the past and forced into hiding as a justification for harassing, assaulting, torturing, or killing humans. Disguising hate in the name of amending historic injustice.
The slope was steep and slippery. One in which the Ackermans could not afford to lose their footing on.
“Nah, they aren’t in trouble,” Kenny waved off. “I’m sure yer ma’s right. Having a fussy pup is keeping them occupied from sending word.”
“Alright, enough talk,” Kuchel gestured to the large pot of stew and warm bread. “Wash up, leamhan, and then we’ll eat supper.”
Levi wanted to rationalize that maybe Kenny was right. He’s only met his cousin, Mikasa, twice before and she was the quietest babe he’d come across. Nary a tantrum nor scream aside from understandable cries when she had a belly ache. Even Kuchel and Jonas’ wife, Himari, praised having such an easy child. But, in the end, he kept his thoughts to himself and helped his mum serve the bowls as they gathered around the table.
The meal, of course, was everything Levi could ask for. Savory braised meat, hearty potatoes alongside other vegetables. The broth was thick and soaked up into the bread that he used to scrape the sides of the bowl, salty and buttery perfection. He and Kenny even went back for seconds while Kuchel ate slowly, chuffing as she watched them elbow each other out of the way.
“Leamhan.”
After returning to the table, Levi glanced at his mother only to find a parchment-wrapped bundle being held out to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, setting his spoon down to slowly reach for it.
“Open it and find out.”
Levi faltered as his fingers closed around the parchment, quickly putting two-and-two together.
“Mum...” he struggled to find the polite words to convey his thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings over the unexpected—and arguably irresponsible-- gesture. However, when he failed to draft his protests into a gentle delivery, what came out in its place was a weak, “You didn’t have to do this.”
He hoped it would convey his thoughts. Had a feeling it did, but doubt it would change her mind.
As predicted, her smile grew, tilting her head to the side as dark wavy locks swayed with the movement. “Don’t be dense. I wanted to.”
“But...” We don’t have money to spare on stupid things. That money could be used for your medicine. Why would you waste it?
But...
There was no way to say it without coming off as ungrateful. Even in his peripheral, he could see Kenny minding his own business, finishing his food quietly. Most likely sharing the same internal protests and disappointment leveled at Kuchel, but smart enough to keep his opinion to himself.
“Thank you, mum.” Levi wouldn’t make his mother cry. Not when he could see the hints of strain in her smile.
“Go on. Open it.”
Levi did, carefully peeling the parchment at the folds to confirm the suspected weight that was in his hand.
A book.
“You’ve already read the others dozens of times,” she went on to explain. “I figured you’d appreciate a new one.”
Despite feeling a spark of dismay for neglecting her health in favor of his entertainment, Levi deeply appreciated the token. Turning it over, he inspected it as an unbidden smile of his own stretched free. The conflicting emotions were far from comfortable and the excitement to read the book was quickly gutted by guilt. In his hands was the chance to get another couple of weeks’ worth of medicine. A finite treatment to ease his mother’s pain. Instead, for the same price, it was just cloth covered bindings, rag paper constructed pages, and rows of neatly pressed ink.
He couldn’t help but feel robbed. Which was ridiculous. Levi was just gifted something. He gained a new book that would no doubt be filled with experiences which his imagination could feed on. But that could never amount to his mother’s health, the value of the gift feeling wrong with the weight of paper, wood, and textile.
He wanted to sell it back the first chance he got. Find out who even sold such an item to his clearly ill mother and not feel bad about taking her money.
Don’t make her cry.
“Thank you. I can’t wait to read it.”
“Why not now?” she asked, propping her elbows on the table and lacing her bird bone fingers together. She perched her chin on top, watching him with fondness. “You know I love hearing you recite.”
“I wouldn’t be reciting anything from this, though.”
“Not yet. But you still read lovely.”
“Come on, boy,” Kenny griped, cutting the tension with his sharp grin and playful shove. “Read for us and show me how gentrified and fancy you’ve gotten. Devils know you ain’t grown any, but maybe yer brain did.”
Levi rolled his eyes, eager to fall back to something as mindless as bickering. “I’ve grown, you tart prick. If you weren’t oxygen starved with your head in the clouds, you’d realize that.”
Kenny barked a laugh as Levi opened to a random section to read from. When his eyes landed on a break in the paragraph, he began, speaking softly. The pattern quickly fell into place, and he modulated his tone accordingly, adding pauses and enunciating bits that felt important. The words were not as practiced as they usually were when he’d recite; not as drilled into his mind as he had forced other pieces. Yet the foreign prose was simple enough to tame into a delicate delivery.
“Never is done tomorrow what is not done today
And one should let no day slip by.
With resolution seize the possible—”
A cough interrupted him, rapidly turning into a fit spluttering and rasping for oxygen. Levi lurched to his feet and crossed the table, ignoring the waving hand flapping at him in a motion that said, ‘everything is fine’. Obviously, it wasn’t if she couldn’t even tell him as such through her coughing.
“It’s ok,” Levi reassured, rubbing between her shoulders in a soothing gesture, reaching for the near empty cup to offer her when she could manage. “Just try to breathe through it.”
The cough continued to shudder through her frame as waves of hair fell into her face. With all the tenderness in his being, his hand not rubbing her back helped sweep the length over her shoulders and out of the way.
“Here, kid.”
A filled glass of water appeared beside him which he gratefully took. Kenny continued to stand close by as Levi tended to Kuchel, talking her through the rough assault on her lungs. Her lashes were damp from the pain and violence of it, cloth napkin pressed to her lips to keep it as contained as possible, though it appeared like she was trying to smother it like a fire.
When it finally managed to subside, Kuchel sniffled and pulled the napkin away, folding it delicately and setting it on the edge of the table. But Levi and Kenny were hovering close. So close that they didn’t miss the red stain on the fabric before she hid it.
Levi pretended not to notice the darker carmine color, choosing to offer the glass of water. It was not the time to bring up his concerns. That could wait for when his mother wasn’t in pain. “Drink, mum. I can make some tea to help.”
“It’s alright, leamhan. I’m sorry for interrupting yo—”
“Don’t.”
Kuchel let the words die out, staring at the glass in her hands and doing nothing to stop the way her hair curtained to hide her face. Levi rarely spoke to his mother in such a tone, but there was a limit to his tolerance--and that promptly ended when she apologized for her cursed illness. It wasn’t fair. Not to her. Not to them. But he would never accept her regrets or excuses for what was outside of her control.
“Don’t do that. Ok?” he repeated in a tempered tone. He leaned in and kissed her temple. “Just. Just drink. And try not to strain your throat. Do you need anything while I make tea?”
A waned smile appeared, barely staying in place before there was a tremor of her bottom lip. “You’re such a doting gentleman. Isn’t he the best, Kenny.”
The older man nodded, sifting a hand through his shoulder length hair. “Yup. Real good brat ya raised, sis.”
The lack of teasing made the comment, although sincere, taste like ash. Levi swallowed, going into the kitchen as a sting prickled behind his eyes. He couldn’t face them right now. Not when a somber, noxious cloud hovered over the table, each person dancing around the taboo topic. It didn’t take a physician to see the bleak signs, and yet for Ackermans being strangers to fear, not one of them were prepared to address the issue outright.
There was a time, a short period of 6 years perhaps, when Levi had not understood the weight of what Grims were. It was a world of ignorance. A place where he didn’t think he’d ever have the weight of something as significant as death matter in his hands. Even be considered a necessity, woven into his nature.
The first time he learned that hellhounds were omens--about how easy it was to end a life and rip out a soul--was when Kenny had taken him into town and two men thought they could rough his uncle up and rob him. They learned the hard way that monsters lived among them in matching skins. Despite the lesson being a shock to his adolescent mind, it was an introduction to the reality they were in. Therefore, death to an attacker was merely a method to avoid death to himself.
A cause and effect. Not necessarily something to seek out, but certainly not something to hold back on either.
That was a nice place to live, those short few years. He wished he could stay there forever. But when the onslaught of symptoms hit his mother so quickly, followed by the doctors diagnosing her with phthisis, he knew. Neither had to tell him that “this medicine will keep you comfortable” meant the same as, there’s nothing we can do.
A hand slapped his shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. Kenny didn’t say anything, just squeezed, then set the dishes in the sink. Levi realized he’d been lost in thought and quickly finished the tea before following Kenny to the table.
Upon accepting the cup, his mother tried not to appear torn up. “I’d like to listen to the rest, if you’re up for it.”
Levi managed a careworn smile, hoping it was enough for her to know he didn’t blame her. “Yeah, I can read the rest.”
He took his seat and opened the book, sifting through the pages until he found what looked familiar. Kuchel hummed as she sipped the tea, appreciating the comforting liquid. Upon finding the page, Levi began again.
“Never is done tomorrow what is not done today
And one should let no day slip by.
With resolution seize the possible straightway
By forelock and with quick, courageous trust
Then holding fast you will not let it further fly;
And you will labour on because you must.”
Kenny sat down beside him, drinking his own glass as he listened to Levi read. In spite of their best efforts to protect their own, death would still come. It came for everyone eventually. The shitty thing was that death seemed to come after Ackermans a little more often.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
***
Two nights later, Levi had meandered outside to check the animals, if only to get some fresh air. His mother was bedridden after Kenny’s first day back, though she tried her best to find things to do around the house. Taking turns, Levi and Kenny would return to the cottage periodically to check on her between chopping firewood and other chores, doing what they could to make her comfortable or berate her for pushing herself. He understood her restlessness, but he wished she would just relax for once.
Inhaling deeply, Levi kneeled at the fence with his fingers hooked through, petting at one of the runner ducks that had come searching for food. It helped calm him down enough to return to the house with a clearer headspace. The declining condition of his mum and the encroaching day of Kenny’s departure were hovering in every inch of their home, making him feel as if he was walking on eggshells. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. Stressed as he felt, he knew the others were also under its effects.
Pushing to his feet, Levi started back, stuffing his hands into his pockets in a pitiful attempt to keep them warm. Upon turning the corner of their woodshed, he nearly jolted when he recognized Kenny’s unmistakable silhouette waiting at the front door. Stifling a sigh, he closed the distance, supposing it was high time for a talk.
“Hey, Kenny,” he greeted dully, coming to a stop beside him. Levi turned to face outward, mimicking the older grim as they stared into the night.
“Hey, runt."
Neither said anything for a while. Simply loitered and listened to the wind comb across the landscape, each Grim on the verge of drowning in the ever-growing discomfort of expectation. No one ever claimed Ackermans were grand conversationalists, nor were they known to be open about their thoughts. After a full minute passed, Kenny grunted and leaned against the door.
So, that’s how it’s going to go. Levi surrendered himself to staying awhile, plopping down on the steps.
"Ya know I'm gonna have to leave soon."
"I know," Levi said. Not accusing or surprised. "How soon are you planning?"
"Next day or two I’d imagine. Need to check on Jonas. It doesn't seem right not to hear from him this long. And uh..." He scratched as his stubbled cheek, teetering on what he wanted to say next as Levi waited patiently. "Uh. Sorry, kid." All of Kenny's usual piss and vinegar had tamed into a haggard slump. "Yer ma's not doing so good."
Levi swallowed, staring at his palms, pink with a new layer of callouses forming over old. "I know."
It came out barely audible, but Kenny still heard. Still nodded.
"I need to check Jonas,” he repeated as if trying to convince himself, “Once I get his shit sorted, I'll be right back here to help out. Think you can keep everything in one piece in the meantime?"
Levi wanted to find the lightness in his chest that came with their teasing, but it never came. He suspected it was absent from his uncle as well.
"I usually do."
"Yeah... Yeah, yer doing good here. I can't imagine how Kuchel would manage if she didn't have ya around... I noticed there's no sheep on the land."
"Sold them in the summer. Was stocking up on mum's medicine. May need to look at some of the ducks next."
Or the book. But the thought made him nauseous knowing his mother would be disappointed and hurt despite the good intentions.
"I'll see what I can do on my way back," Kenny amended but it didn't sound promising.
Thieving was a habit of his which he'd taught Levi a few tricks on, however stealing medicine wasn't the same as exploring an unsuspecting pedestrian’s pockets or skimming fruit or meat from the market.
"How's yer shifting," Kenny asked suddenly.
After adjusting to the second change in topic, Levi shrugged. "Shifting has never been an issue. And don't worry. I'm careful when I do it. I always make sure no one is around."
"Yeah, but have ya been practicing yer bite like I've showed ya?"
Levi withheld a sigh. "Whenever I can. I'm limited to rabbits and deer, so not sure how that compares."
Kenny grunted. "It's dull. Animal souls are simple. Sins and altruism ain't in their beings so there's not much resistance as opposed to a human or another species. But yer technique will remain the same. Just keep gettin used to the feeling."
Levi had nothing to add to it. The act of disassembling a living creature to that of a corpse and a soul was a strange sensation. Feeling like something stuck in his teeth. Tingling and foreign. The talk of it being bland made him curious just what other differences there were.
"Keep yer chin up, kid. Kuchel just needs rest and then she'll be back to giving us hell for messing up something in no time." His hand came down and ruffled Levi's hair. "I'm going to bed. See ya in the morning."
"Goodnight, Kenny."
A slice of light cut across the ground, tracing Levi’s shadow into the earth before the door shut and he was blanketed in the night once more. Levi tilted his head back, bending his knees closer to him to trap in the warmth as he stared at the stars. He would stay out a little longer and enjoy the moment before he needed to face reality once again.
***
Ireland, 12 January 1877
______________________________________
Two weeks had passed since Kenny left. Levi wasn’t sure which of Jonas’ three homes he was going to check first, but seeing as he wasn’t back already, he suspected the one in England was unoccupied. Denmark would be harsher travels, which meant it would slow Kenny down with the frigid conditions, and Austria was further away. Not that Levi needed his uncle back already, but some days were more overwhelming than others.
His mother was feeling better enough to move around a little more, but the cold agitated her symptoms. The firewood Kenny helped him stock on was a massive relief and Kuchel was able to stay inside where it was warm, only venturing out for the smallest of chores. Meanwhile, Levi was busy tending to everything else which included hunting.
For the past few months, he’d been taking up skinning the deer they’ve eaten and tanning the hide. The first couple attempts were rough and not without fault as he learned his way around the craft, but now he had two red deer pelts ready to sell. With trades of deerskin picking up after European beaver trade declined, Levi was hoping for a decent profit.
Unfortunately, there was a downside that provided no solution within his control.
Levi was a Supra, and as such, appeared significantly younger than his true age. A 10-year-old boy tossing a bundle of pelts (a little too easily for normal standards given the weight) onto the counter and bluntly opening negotiations to the shopkeeper was a surprise. What was less so, was the way the tradesman tried to underpay and take advantage of the youth, eager to profit from the boy’s gullibility. Fitting a firm glare into place, Levi refused to play the man’s games, even reaching for the furs to take elsewhere when the man grabbed his arm, halting him. Had he known Levi was not human, he suspected they wouldn’t have reached this point, but revealing that fact was highly dangerous.
“Hey, lad. Just calm down, will you? This is just what adults do. It’s all part of haggling a deal so everyone wins. You should learn some patience.”
Levi debated on calling the man out on his bullshit right then, but he wasn’t looking to stay in town any longer than necessary. With tolerance waning, he stated a firm price, knowing that the red deer pelts were harder to come by with their declining numbers and refusing to budge. He had to travel in his shifted form nearly 100 km to hunt them, risk exposure, and go through the work of skinning the damn things. Considering the asshole’s lack of shame in trying to rob a kid, he felt an upcharge was necessary.
After the man attempted to talk him down, it became apparent he was dealing with a surly youngster who was a little too sharp to take advantage of. In the end, he handed the money over and Levi left without looking back, pointing himself in the direction of the pharmacy.
Had he not been frustrated over the interaction--had Levi just looked behind him--he would’ve noticed his dealings had garnered the unsavory attention of a fellow Supra customer in the store.
***
The home was quiet. The terrain and wind slumbered with the rest of the world. Not even squeaking floorboards, or rough coughing from the room beside him had broken the monotony.
Upon returning from town, Levi surprised his mum with the medicine which was enough to last almost two months. Seven weeks of promised comfort. It was a relief, not only for her, but Levi knowing that it bought them a little more time. He’d have to go hunting again, and rather soon, to prepare more pelts to sell. The downside was that it’d be difficult to travel if there was snow in the mountains. But he hoped with Kenny returning, things would fall into place with an extra set of hands.
After questioning how Levi got the money, followed by the confession that the days missing was due to him burrowed in the tool shed and not finding friends as she had hoped, she chided him for his recklessness before hugging him tight.
“You’re a willful boy, Levi, but I love you for it.”
He embraced her back and mumbled into her shoulder, “I love you too,” while internally lamenting over how frail she felt against him.
As it was, the medication had put her right to sleep that night, finally allowing her reprieve from the constant ache and weakness. Levi continued to lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and melting into the silence, finding it difficult to fall asleep. He knew there was no reason for it. His mother was fine, but he simply couldn’t get used to the ominous calm. The way it felt was like a prediction of what was to come:
Him, alone in an empty cottage.
It was inevitable, he knew it. But he couldn’t come to terms with it no matter how long he lay there. Trying to shut his eyes and will himself to sleep proved useless as an unknown amount of time later, they were open again without him remembering doing so.
Knowing the futility of trying to force his mind to stop fretting, he allowed his eyes to track around the darkness, though it was not so dark for him. The moon insisted on keeping him company with a square patch of it on the wooden floorboards. It was odd how the clouds did little to block out the light, as if the moon was urging him up. Asking him to look.
Sighing, Levi sat upright, giving in to the fact he would be tired the following morning. Bending his knees and resting his arms over the top, he glanced out the window to watch the sky. The moon was hiding from that angle but obviously it hovered somewhere close.
He wasn’t sure what compelled him, perhaps wanting to separate from the mattress or out of boredom, but Levi hauled himself from the bed to creep into the living space. He eyed the chairs and blankets, the smoldering fireplace that would need to be cleaned out when it cooled down the following day. After his cursory scan, he walked to the larger window at the front of the cottage, which provided the view of the elusive moon.
Nose almost touching glass, he picked out the stars speckling over the horizon, the hill that hid a natural spring behind the woodshed. The forest’s silhouette in the distance, stagnant like a sentry presence. And just past the front yard’s fence...
For a long moment, Levi stared out near the garden, wondering if he was hallucinating from stress or exhaustion. For some reason, it seemed his mind was struggling to connect the dots, even as he saw movement near the corner post down the hill.
Animal?
Oh, if it was one of those bloody badgers again, he was going to make sure he had a pelt for the next town’s trip. Mischievous assholes were probably after the ducks again.
But the sensation of a stone in his belly didn’t allow him to toy with that thought much longer. Something about the movement--the size--was wrong.
It was then that his heart started catching up to his mind, breath coming out faster. With stiff movements, he hurried quietly to Kuchel’s room, not pausing to knock as he stepped to the side of the bed.
“Mum,” he reached to shake her shoulders with urgent whispers. “Hey, you need to wake up.”
Kuchel jerked a bit as her eyes cracked open, glazed over with sleep and the thick influence of the prescription in her system. “Levi, what is it? Did you have a nightm—”
His finger came to his lips, as he strained to hear any noise aside from them. The prickling sensation of danger encroaching was hard to ignore at his back, but he focused on Kuchel.
“I think there’s people outside. We need to leave.”
Her ghostly face seemed to sharpen into awareness, but her movements were partially delayed as she ripped the blanket off. With a sluggish push, she got to her feet in a drunken lurch that Levi had to help keep her steady.
“Where? How many?” she demanded as she found her balance, shaking off the drug that tried to clog her grasp on the situation.
Levi left her side to check the window, careful to stand discreetly along the wall despite the lack of visuals it offered from that side of the house. The profiles were too clustered to make out in the dark, but with the moonlight at their backs, it casted shadows of the figures approaching across the frosty yard. Levi bit the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way his breath fogged the edge of the window.
“Four, maybe five,” he turned to see Kuchel rummaging under the bed and retracting their M1869 rifle.
She wasted no time jamming six rounds into the tube and racking the bolt to seat a seventh in the chamber. Thank the devils for Kenny stealing that off a dead soldier. The single shot hunting rifle they owned was useless in a fight compared to that, although having nothing in his hands made him feel just as exposed and unprepared.
“What do you want me to do?” Levi asked, trusting she had a plan.
For a single second, his mother met his gaze with a barrage of longing, and Levi could see in her eyes the wish for more time. It was something they never seemed to have enough of these days.
It’s ok, he wanted to soothe, everything will turn out ok. Just tell me what to do.
His heart thumped achingly against his ribs when all she did was gaze at him. “Mum. Are we leaving out the back?” he pressed trying to ignore the chill creeping on him. “I can cause a distraction while you get a head start and then you can cover me as I make it to—”
“Leamhan, listen to me,” she whispered. She drew closer to cup his face with one hand as the rifle rested in the crook of her arm. “I need you to hide.”
“What?! No, I’m not—”
“Levi,” her voice was stern, a flash of her eyes began to glow silver with copper spreading from her iris. “You need to hide. Just do as I say, and I’ll handle them.”
He could feel his molars grinding together at her refusal to have him help. Kenny would let me, he wanted to snap, but refrained from the urge, not trusting his voice. Instead, he shook his head, refusing to leave her side.
“Do as I say—go!” she hissed abruptly.
Before either could continue their hushed argument, a deafening snap-Boom of a pistol barked at the house, then the sound of crackling echoed over the landscape. A second shot followed and this time, the round punctured a neat hole through the wood siding, whistling somewhere inside the house. Levi and Kuchel ducked instinctively as laughter chimed from out front.
“Come out, come out! We know there’s only two of ya’s, so don’t get any bright ideas. We just want to have a little chat about the boy.”
With wide eyes, Levi met his mother as realization dawned on him. Somewhere, somehow, Levi broke the one rule of Grims: Not to draw attention. How he fucked up so bad, he didn’t know. But he did.
“Mum, I’m sorry. I swear, I don’t know who they—”
“Sshh,” she calmed, voice shaking as she pushed the hair from his face. “It’s ok. I need you go. Go, Levi,” she pushed him towards the back door, despite him digging his heels in and resisting. “Go, go, go. Hide. I’ll come get you when this is over. Go!”
Levi stumbled through the door from her shove, breath coming out uneven as he tried to understand what was happening. He spun around as soon as he managed to not fall and tried to pry the back door open, but Kuchel had locked it.
“Mum,” he whispered harshly, clawing at the handle and rocking it back and forth to jimmy it loose. “Mum, don’t do this. Mum!”
He didn’t dare raise his voice any louder or to struggle with the door in a way to attract attention. He tried fumbling with a garden trowel on the deck to wedge it in, but the metal was too thick to fit between the thresholds. Giving up, Levi hurried to the back shed, keeping a watchful eye on the side of the cottage in case any of the men were lurking, but so far, they seemed to stay united at the front.
It was difficult to make out everything in the pitch shed, but his sight adapted quickly to sort for something useful. Spade, axe, pitchfork, threshing flail. Some useful for defense, but not ideal to get back inside to his stubborn mother. How stupid was he? He should’ve just woken her up and dragged her out the rear of the house as soon as she could stand.
Fuck!
Taking a steady breath, he raked his hands down his face.
He needed to breathe and not freak out. Panicking was only going to put them in more danger.
When Levi managed to release a trembling exhale, then another, expelling all his mounting fear, his eyes landed on the worktable where he saw his skinning knife. The lighter, curved blade gleamed under the moonlight that snuck in through the cracked door, as if waiting for him to come out and retrieve it. Levi wasted no time grabbing it and rushing to the rear of the cottage, ready to make a second attempt at prying the latch from the jam.
Just as the blade slid between the wood, he paused as he became aware of the heavy stillness that hovered from within. A second spark of panic jolted through him and Levi stole a glimpse through the bottom of the door, able to make out the thin image of his mother. Her back faced him with her hair swept into a low ponytail and rifle cradled in her arm at a low-ready position. Kuchel remained statuesque in the middle of the hallway, centered between the front door and Levi. Her head tilted and turned, listening to noises outside the cottage. Waiting for the prey to make a mistake.
Her illness had deteriorated her body to the point that shifting was riskier than it was worth, therefore the gun was her only viable defense. The thought of having half your ability taken from you was a terrifying realization and Levi wondered if she was shaking as bad as he was.
Doesn’t matter. I just need to get her away from here.
Levi was about to stand up and attempt to pry the door open when something hit the side of the house. Lurching to his feet, he pressed his spine to the wood, wiggling the skinning knife free of the threshold, only to clutch it to his chest.
Before he could gather another coherent thought, a boom of his Kuchel's rifle split the tension followed by the zip-pops of a pistol returning fire. Immediately, the answering call of the rifle sounded from within the home as unfamiliar voices shouted in alarm.
Everything after that became a blur of bangs and percussions, nearly impossible to distinguish from the blood in his ears or the varying firearms exchanging rounds. The noise beside the house was no longer shooting, though the clear hints of a struggle between two men nearby hooked Levi’s attention from the back door.
But that wasn’t right. No one else would be fighting these attackers aside from him and Kuchel.
Cautiously, Levi sidestepped to the corner of the house, hearing voices grunting and cursing at each other, locked in combat. There was a clatter of metal on metal followed by throaty insults.
“—told you—not to fucking kill’em! He's mine!”
“Fucking mongrel! Get off! We told you that y-you can’t have any more—You’ve taken your share--ahhh!”
The sound of bone snapping was nearly mistaken as another muted gunshot by how loud it ruptured. Peering around the corner, flexing his fingers across the handle of his knife, Levi watched as two figures wrestled for control of the gun between them, blood pouring down each of their faces. The man on his back was suffering a broken hand, but his adrenaline was fueling him past the pain as he tried to overpower the larger man on top.
Then, by some shitty luck of his, the attacker winning the match jerked his head up, locking yellow-haloed eyes with Levi. Unwillingly, the young Grim took a retreating step back as his own widened, recognizing the blood-fever gleam in the man’s—no—wolven’s gaze.
Shit-shit-shit-shit.
A feral grin split across the stranger’s face, showing his bloody teeth from a hit he suffered. Then, to Levi’s dismay, the recognizable snapping and rearranging of the anatomy drowned out all the other noise. All he could do was watch with horror as the lycanthrope shifted into his animal form. The human on the ground never stood a chance as dull fingers elongated to talons that split his abdomen and chest with ease.
The high-pitched screams escalated as the man, gun forgotten by his head, tried desperately to keep his innards inside. “Ah! No-no-no-no! Don’t shift! Don’t! We had a deal! Ahh! You fucking bastard--! We had a deal!”
As the lycanthrope jerked with the last of his muscles and bones settling into place, a wavering growl chortled from the beast--as if he was laughing--just before he encased the man’s skull with his jaws.
There were sounds, Levi had come to learn, that didn’t seem like humans were capable of making. Something a foreign animal in distress would screech perhaps, but it was unfathomable to think a human’s vocal cords could carry such range. When the screams of the dying man were finally cut off, it was at the price of the skull cracking between the lycanthrope’s molars before the body was dropped with not an ounce of care. Blood and brain matter, and something clear, was leaking out of the dead man’s head almost appearing black in the moonlight rather than scarlet.
“Little pup,” the graveling, monstrous voice purred. It was a terrifying mixture of an animal trying to mimic a human, like some Chimera beast. He’d heard lycanthropes were the only shifter species that could articulate language in both forms, but no one ever warned him of the bone chilling inflection it carried. “Come with me now and we’ll leave your mother alone.”
Levi’s voice was locked in his throat as he tried to will himself to do something. Fight, get back to the door—hell, break a fucking window and get to mum. Anything! The comfort of the knife in his hand was the only thing grounding his thoughts from completely blanking out in fear. He knew his best chance of helping his mother was to fight, just as Kenny would want him to, but this bastard was huge! How the fuck was he, with his skinning knife, going to survive that?
If you don’t try, then you’re just giving up. And if you give up, you’re dead, the voice in his skull hissed. This wolven is cocky. He underestimates you. Thinks you’re just a kid.
I am just a kid.
No, you’re an Ackerman.
He wasn’t sure what sort of twisted subconscious debate he was having, wondering if it was Kenny’s influence or something else. But whatever it was, his lungs sucked in mouthfuls of oxygen a little easier and the dizziness gradually subsided.
Yeah, ok. He wasn’t helpless. He just had to remember he had his own tricks in a fight.
The repeated mantra helped something inside of him to find balance, as if a puzzle piece was slipping into place. The lycanthrope stalked closer on all fours, stepping over the leaking corpse. As the distance dwindled, the world sharpened into focus. The sounds returned of random gunshots, someone else was screaming around the house that he was hit, the moonlight remained present, watching everything unfold.
“Hey!” a man shouted at the front of the home, followed by a responding bark of a rifle.
The gunshot rattled the walls and windowpanes as another man yelped.
Not worried over his companions, the lycanthrope continued his steady approach, unruffled by cries of someone suffering. Instead, the beast kept low to the ground, like it that would prevent Levi from spooking and running away. But the boy was busy steeling himself, letting the hand holding the knife come to hang by his hip with the blade held in a reverse grip.
“Just be a good pup. We’ll bring you somewhere nice where you’ll be taken care of.”
Sure, dipshit. Just keep coming closer. Levi’s eyes darted to the wolven’s throat, the armpits, the inner thighs. It didn’t matter what shape an opponent took; all had the same arteries. That thought, along with mentally walking himself through the simpleness of slicing once in either of those locations, was enough to ground him while the wolven came a mere 8 feet away. He just needed to get one hit in, and it would be over. One hit.
Another rifle shot went off.
“You bitch!” a man cursed, clearly pissed off. A handgun popped out a round and a female scream split the air. “Did I get you? Huh? Fucking finally!”
Levi didn’t remember moving after that. One second, he was preparing to bury the knife into the lycanthrope’s most vulnerable blood vessels, and the next he was ramming his shoulder into the back door. Upon the second hit with his body, he was roughly yanked back by the lycanthrope from the scruff of his shirt, feeling claws rake down the back of his neck in the struggle.
But that didn’t even register in his mind. The door was getting further away as he yelled at the beast to let him go, being dragged across the ground on his ass, backwards. Rage welled within him burning all his prior hesitations into ashes.
Using the techniques Kenny taught him, he rocked his body against the hold of his shirt, kicking his legs over his head to wrap around the lycanthrope’s shoulder and neck. The attempt at an armbar was not as effective given his lack of height against a massive beast, but it didn’t need to restrict the wolven. Merely give him range to swing the knife. With the back of his shirt still clutched in the wolven’s claws and threatening to rip him to the ground, he felt the man’s free talons dig into his thigh to peel him away.
“Cute, pup, but that won’t do anything to help—”
The knife found its way home across the inside of the wolven’s elbow, emitting a furious snarl. In retaliation, Levi found himself hurled into the ground where he rolled before coming to a stop against a protruding boulder. The lycanthrope was gushing blood, yet not enough to counter the enhanced healing supras were gifted with. That didn’t make the wolven any less pissed, however. As Levi hauled himself to his feet, he made sure to keep his movements slow and hunched, hoping his semi-submissive figure would encourage another mistake from the wolven. It seemed to work as he marched forward on two legs now, not even attempting to coax Levi’s willingness with falsities.
No more pretense, then.
Just as his blood-soaked claw reached out to grab Levi, he ducked into the wolven’s space rather than of away, catching him off guard as Levi swung the blade into his thigh. The biped sidestepped while simultaneously sending a backhand at Levi, but he was quick, spinning just out of reach from the swing and following with an upward motion. The narrow, curved knife disconnected the wolven’s flesh along his abdomen as he howled in shock. But Levi wasn’t done.
Wrath and terror swirled into incoherence. His neurons were firing different signals of still a threat—still in danger—don’t let up. A swing of the blade to the back of the biped’s knee forced the lycanthrope to the ground. The beast flailed its massive arms as blood spurted from the injuries, arterial spray weeping across the frosty grass in arcs. Still a threat—still in danger. With heaving lungs, Levi stepped behind the beast where his wild strikes couldn’t reach him, and jammed the knife with enough force to puncture between the frail vertebrae of the neck.
Instantly dead; slumping face down in the muck and bodily fluid oozing out. But there was no time to drink in the victory.
Panting, Levi wiped the trickle of blood or snot, he didn’t know, from his nose and tugged on the knife. But it wouldn’t budge. He tried again, a whimper escaping his throat as his desperation grew before he finally gave up.
Mum. He needed to get to her.
There were sporadic rifle shots still calling out and Levi was so desperate to feel the relief. After all, his mother was still fighting, still alright, but he knew she was hurt, and he no longer had his knife.
There wasn’t any way around it. If he shifted, then he’d have to make sure no one escaped alive. The plan to get his mother and flee was not an option anymore--this was the only way the night could end.
***
They didn’t see him coming, the perks of pitch fur that blended with the night’s gloom.
He sprinted fast and low, moving like liquid in his Grim form. Circling wide around the firefight, Levi darted in on the attacker’s unprotected side, trying to simultaneously stay downwind in the event there was another blood-fevered lycanthrope around, and out of sight. It was an odd thing to be grateful for that hellhounds did not share the hormonal fluctuation as wolvens did during full moons, though having the significant boost in confidence to take out the attackers would be appreciated.
Coming to crouch beside a shrub, he lingered as Kuchel’s patchy rifle rounds were sent downrange, taking a moment to get his bearings. His nostrils flared, the scent of blood and saltpeter permeated in the air.
Two men were firing from behind cover, the third was flopping around near the front door that was littered with numerous holes. The windows were completely shattered, making the face of the cottage nearly unrecognizable to Levi. His focus returned to the enemy around him, and he noted how they were spread out with the closest about 50 paces away.
In that moment, Kuchel stopped shooting. The men continued for a handful of seconds before following suit. Then one of them shouted at the others and the shooting picked up at the sound of something coming at them, but by then, Levi had closed the gap.
He slammed into the first one, tackling him high, claws finding perch on his shoulders as they slammed to the ground. The man rolled, maneuvering on top of the young hellhound for an instant before Levi lunged around and wrenched his jaws into the man’s trachea. He exploded out from under him, leaving the man to bleed out as the screaming of the others drew him in.
The already gunshot-wounded man near the steps tried to bring up his revolver which was halted as Levi’s muzzle clamped around his wrist, popping the bone like the lycanthrope’s shifting acoustics. The man croaked out a desperate sound as his still functioning hand reached for his knife on his hip. Levi decided to give him something else to think about and immediately clamped down on his face, ripping back and forth, savaging him. He thrashed against him, blood and saliva spurting on his tongue with hot breath pushing into Levi’s cheeks. The man got the knife unholstered, but Levi stomped on his arm with his back paw.
Bullets whizzed by them from the remaining opponent. Something snapped at Levi’s hunched back, stinging and feeling like fire blazing across his fur. Still attached to the man he was tearing apart, Levi hopped over the wounded body and tugged the human onto his side as a mini barrier. The incoming rounds plunked into the human’s back, one chunk of lead smacking through his neck and punching a hole into Levi’s shoulder.
He immediately detached himself from the human in a yelp, but the pain fueled his anger more than deterred him. The shooter sighted his gun onto Levi just as he sprinted diagonally toward his location. Each of the bullets cracked and pocketed into the side of the house, tracking Levi and chewing at the ground by his paws. As he closed the distance to the man, Levi leapt off the side of the shed and landed on the shooter, pummeling the rifle out of his grip. It caught in the sling as they hit the ground and Levi seized the strap in his mouth and tugged it across the prey’s throat, strangling him.
With nothing else to defend himself with, the man rained punches blinding overhead, connecting with Levi’s skull and snout. He tried to tug the rifle harder to get out of range, but the hits continued to land. Changing tactics, Levi traded the rifle for the man’s throat, biting down in a feral display of predators taking down unruly game efficiently. The human continued to struggle against him, gurgling in his final moments.
All the built-up frenzy and panic from the night finally came together in the way two stormfronts meet, merging into a concoction as one was absorbed by the other. Everything seemed to slow down around him, new sensations pushing their way into his adrenaline-high mind. It was as if the blood and meat of the man’s throat was not the only texture bidding for attention. Beneath it, like a thin film of algae on water, Levi could feel something else. Something that sparked on his tongue like peppermint drops.
Was this the difference between an animal’s soul and a human’s? The strength of it was unexpected, feeling denser and potent like syrup. In his shock, Levi barely noticed the human was still squirming and kicking, somehow getting air through his throat while the canine's teeth failed to puncture the artery.
“H-h-ope that... bitch d-dies,” the man spat refusing to beg for his life in his final moments.
A growl rumbled free, partially muffled against the opponent’s neck. Fury overpowered all else and before he knew it, before Levi could even understand what he was doing, his breath exhaled a sulphury haze, the calcium of his teeth increasing in temperature. The man screamed, eyes blown wide in terror at the new burning sensation burrowed ruthlessly at his flesh, collectively growing in heat until his skin began to pustulate and blister. The hair-raising shriek intensified rattling in Levi’s ears as a crushing wave of dizziness collided behind his eyes. But he held on, chasing the sensation like a wildfire ablaze in the forest, chewing everything in its path. He poured his wrath into the fiery bite, savoring the scream until the cries abruptly cut off and the fire diminished to nothing, blinking out of existence.
Confused by the instant and overwhelming nothingness beneath his teeth, Levi clamped his jaws tighter on the throat, realizing quickly that the man was dead. However, the soul was absent.
That wasn’t right. He never separated it. Not once had he pulled his head back to yank it free from its meaty housing.
What the fuck?
Again, he adjusted his jaws and bit, yet the results were the same. A give of flesh, wet squelch of blood. Nothing more.
Giving up, Levi detached from the man completely, looking across the front yard at the carnage. Once certain that everyone was thoroughly dead, he shifted to his human form in blink of movement, pleased to avoid the bone twisting fate of wolvens. With shaking, weak legs, he trotted to the front of the house, relieved that it was not deadbolted like a fortress as the back was, though that likely had something to do with the locks being mutilated in the gunfight.
As Levi burst through the entryway, he didn’t realize he’d been crying until he had to wipe at his face to clear the blurriness. He knew his mother had been hit by a bullet, but he had no idea where or what to expect. The fact she had continued fighting for so long was promising that it wasn’t serious, which was reinforced by the fact his own shoulder wound had yet to slow him down thanks to the buckets full of adrenaline. But his knowledge of medical treatment was severely lacking, and the thought of the potentially long night ahead to get her to town was a daunting task when he felt so utterly drained. Hitting the wall, so to speak.
“Mum! It’s ok, we’re safe now—”
His feet locked in place, freezing him in mid motion as his attention landed on his mother. The tears surged, hazing out the image which he was almost grateful for now, because he did not want to see this. And yet, it was too late. He did. And he had to. He couldn’t look away or close his eyes.
The image continued to blur, followed by drips, then by streams.
This isn’t real. It’s a bad dream. This isn’t real.
Levi forced himself to blink, clearing the watery image until his mother’s body, propped against the wall, came into view. Her black hair had fallen loose from her ponytail, sticking against her sweat soaked temples. Blood crusted from her nose and mouth, having splattered across her shirt where a wet patch swelled from beneath her ribs. There was no denying where she was shot, not when there was a growing puddle on the floor and her chin was slumped against her unmoving chest. But none of it was as haunting as her empty gaze staring blankly at the smoking rifle abandoned across her thighs. It was too much—too surreal.
“Mu-mum,” Levi pleaded, knees slamming into the ground beside her.
He didn’t even recall walking over, but now that he was there, a horrible feeling unearthed itself from him. The bedlam of death ripped the fault lines apart, upturning soil until an ugly wrathful thing surged within his core, veined in dark and loathing for only himself.
You did this. You attracted attention! You stupid, stupid fuck! You never attract attention! Never!
Levi fisted his hands in his hair and tugged until it was painful, just as all his whirling emotions expressed themselves in a sound that tore from his throat. He couldn’t hear the scream he made as he emptied his lungs, but he felt it. Rooting from his chest and burning like he swallowed sandpaper, sharp and filled with the aftereffects of all the ungodly things that he had just done. It had to be loud. Maybe if he kept screaming, he’d lose his voice completely, letting the distant jagged crags swallow his cries. Whether it would happen or not, it didn't matter. He screamed, unaware of the snaggy crack darting across the floorboards nor the vibrating windows of the house, threatening to shatter beneath the brunt of his growing power.
Eventually, when he couldn’t scream anymore, he wrapped his arms around his mother and held her to his chest while he let the tears fall, rocking them back and forth until the moon dipped below the horizon, leaving him truly alone.
***
Ireland, 22 February 1877
_______________________________________
Levi felt like there was a hole in his chest as he gazed one last time at the cottage. He shucked the canvas bag higher up, wincing as the strap dug into the freshly wrapped shoulder. Knowing all his belongings were reduced to the single pack didn’t help the hollow feeling.
“Can ya carry it fine?”
Levi didn’t look away from the cottage, merely nodded. A month prior, Levi had tried to extract the bullet himself but only managed to lose consciousness from the pain. Twice. Against his better judgement, the wound had no choice but to heal around the lead, meaning when his uncle returned, he had to cut through the scar tissue to get to the bullet. It wasn’t pleasant, by any means, but the pain was grounding. Gave him something to feel aside from emptiness. After all, with all the motivation having left him, Levi was reduced to moving around the cottage as if was him that was the ghost.
“Look at me,” the voice above ordered.
Levi finally withdrew his gaze from the still freshly turned soil, hardened by the evening frost, and the lonely wooden headstone by the garden. Once again, the world threatened to blur but he blinked it away as he faced his uncle. Despite finding it easier to hold back the tears, there was no hiding the dampness to his lashes which were beginning to chill as tiny snow flurries floated down.
Kenny stared at him, not revealing what he was feeling and yet it looked like everything was on display. A fatigued fury. Rattled melancholy. Unfriendly compassion. Each part of the older Grim vying for control as he observed his nephew.
Then he surprised Levi when he kneeled in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Wipe your eyes.”
Levi did, biting back the excuse that his face was only damp from the cold. He didn’t have the energy to protest.
When Kenny was satisfied, he continued speaking firmly, yet still kind, “Stop crying, Levi. No more, ya hear. We’re gonna take everything and submerge it inside, ok? That’s what we have to do. Drown it so it doesn’t affect us moving forward.”
Levi sucked in cold air, swallowing it in hopes to shove the rising emotions back down, deep inside a fictitious crater.
“Ya did real good, kid. What happened wasn’t your fault, understood?” His hand squeezed Levi's shoulder. “I’m proud ya managed to take those bastards down on your own. Damn proud. But I need ya to understand your ma was in a bad way with her health. There’s a chance the strain on her body would have been too much even if she hadn’t been—”
“Please stop talking,” Levi cut in, eyes staring blankly through Kenny. He felt like he was teetering between complete numbness and breaking down. He’d prefer to stay firmly in the former category. “S’okay. I know.”
Kenny sighed, removing his hand but didn’t get up. He rocked on his toes as if he was contemplating it but lingered for a few seconds longer as he worked out what to say next.
“We’re Ackermans, kiddo... Hellhounds aren’t known to have it easy--that’s just the way the cards been dealt. Kuchel knew she didn’t have much longer here, but she was trying to make the most of it... Ah, damn it. Look. What I’m trying to say is we ain’t going to cry anymore for her, right? We’ll figure out something else to help with these emotions. Turn it into anger. That’s fine. Ya can use anger. But from here on out we move forward, understood?”
“Yeah.”
Kenny stood up and looked at the house with the forlorn grave once more.
“Alright, good. It’s just us now. We need to get yer cousin from the neighbors and get out of here. Ready?”
Levi nodded, gaze stuck on the ground where a faint dusting of snow settled. He didn’t know how he managed to dig the grave alone, with the semi-frozen earth, and a half-busted shoulder. But it was a relief that he did. There was no way he’d be able to leave with half the composure if mum wasn’t at least buried by her favorite spot.
Above him, Levi sensed Kenny’s searching gaze which was born from his nephew’s despondency. Luckily, for both their sakes, the older Grim didn’t bother trying to tackle another pitifully uplifting spiel.
Leading the way down the path to the neighbor’s property, Kenny must have decided he’d rather talk to himself instead of dragging out a conversation with Levi. Wide brim hat pushed lower over his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his long coat, Kenny grumbled about various things like bad luck and raising brats that weren’t even his own. Because his gut had been right. Jonas and Himari had been in danger, and it was only by sheer happenstance that he got there in time to rescue Mikasa from Supra traffickers who’d manage to track the family down. Some would argue that was actually good luck, but then again one was not exclusive without the other.
Not having anything else to say, Levi followed the older Grim to where he dropped Mikasa off at, wondering how fate had turned against them so quickly to leave three surviving Ackermans in the span of a mere month.
***
Unknown Location, Serbia,
8 years later, 1885
__________________________________________
It was only because Levi had decided to rearrange his gear that all the items were sprawled across the table.
The abandoned hunting shed in the middle of a damp, cold forest in bumfuck nowhere leaked insistently with an elusive draft that constantly found a way in. To be frank, he wasn’t sure which was the more frustrating issue; the shoddy roof or the ill-fitted door of the “house”. If one would even dare call the dilapidated structure as such.
He’d attempted to clamber up the roof the day prior to wedge some pieces of bark and mud between the shingles, growing tired of walking around and getting randomly dripped on, but as the next evening yielded rain, it too mocked his poor carpentry skills. Kenny, of course, laughed at his dismay while Mikasa quietly patted his arm in consolation before taking a bowl to place under the drips. Which, in his opinion, was worse. At least, if they let it puddle on the dingy floorboards they wouldn’t have to listen to the constant plops in the bowl. Both choices were maddening.
“Not sure why yer trying to fix this shithole up. We’ll be moving on in a couple of days,” Kenny scoffed, kicking his boots onto the table.
“Just because it’s not ours doesn’t mean we should rob ourselves of comfort,” Levi retorted, backhanding the muddy shoes off the edge, earning a grunt from the man when his feet landed hard on the floor. “Fuck, I wish you’d pretend like you had manners once in a while.”
“Tch, ya hear this, Mikasa? Yer cousin’s so nitpicky.”
“He has standards,” Mikasa confirmed in her usual softspoken voice. Her charcoal gaze lifted, taking the odd scene in before she went back to running her fingers across the blanket, draped over her lap. “It’s nice to have a clean shelter when we can.”
Levi lifted his brows at Kenny in an obvious ‘see? You’re the problem’ sort of way.
The older Grim rolled his eyes but addressed Mikasa. “What? Don’t ya like traveling the world, seeing new places? It’s an adventure, ain’t it?”
“Hmm... It’s ok, I guess.”
Levi raised the book from the items lined up on the table, opening a tiny jar of tree sap, and setting aside the paintbrush he’d stollen from the last town. “That’s a no, Kenny. In case you misinterpreted Mikasa’s politeness.”
Kenny glowered at his nephew, then looked at Mikasa who stared back innocently.
“Ah, fuck. Yer both brats. Ungrateful for all the stuff I do for ya. I thought you two would like Serbia.”
“It’s not Serbia that’s the issue. It’s not having a fucking night without being rained on. A break from being cold and wet shouldn’t be too much to ask for.”
Before Kenny could retort, Mikasa spoke up a little louder in protest, “I liked Belgium.”
Tossing his head back with a groan, the older Grim’s shoulders slouched in defeat. “Yeah, well, Belgium’s off the list for a while, kid.”
“What’s a while?”
“Few decades I’d imagine. Bit too hot for us right now.”
Levi cocked a brow, sarcastically commenting, “Wonder why that is.”
Kenny scowled as if he was willing the roof to open and dump rain on Levi. At the same time, he leaned to the side and reached down to dig a finger into the mud on his boot. Then he flicked it at the younger Grim, landing the clump dead-center on his cheek. With not a second of hesitation, the empty tin cup on the table was sent flying back in retaliation. Kenny caught it before it could connect to his face, sending a toothy grin that dripped with smug satisfaction at his nephew.
“That’s mature,” Mikasa muttered disapprovingly, but it went ignored.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Levi suggested, not too kindly at the older man.
Kenny snickered and rocked to his feet. “Yeah, yeah.” Grabbing his hat off the back of the chair, he shoved it on his head. “I’ll be outside, doing my rounds. Try not to miss me too much.”
“Oi, hold up. Do you want to take a lantern with you?” Levi asked. It was still strange how quickly they switched between insulting to serious, but that was just the way they dealt with each other. When Kenny glanced at him, Levi nodded at the two lamps they had placed in the tiny shed as the only source of light.
“Nah, if those assholes managed to get close to our hideout, I don’t want to advertise my position.” He paused at the door and sent another stern look to Levi, “Try to get some sleep this time, will ya? I need ya alert tomorrow.”
“I’ll try,” Levi waved off, repeating the same answer to his uncle, knowing he’d likely end in the same result. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be an insomniac. The bags under his eyes weren’t exactly the aesthetic he was going for.
“I mean it, brat. If we’re gonna keep practicing yer little tricks, I don’t want you too exhausted if we encounter trouble.”
“Yeah? How do you think I feel? I’d appreciate not being at a disadvantage from hunters too, Kenny.” Levi shook his head, knowing his frustration was loud and clear in the bite of his tone. “I said I’ll try to rest, now go do your damn rounds.”
“Tch,” Kenny rolled his eyes at his prickly nephew, happy to get a rise from him. He met Mikasa’s watchful gaze. “Keep him in line, will ya? He’s thinking he can fit into big britches all of sudden. Can’t have it going to his head.”
Mikasa nodded, even if she didn’t know what exactly she was being asked to do.
“Alright, I’ll be back,” Kenny left out the shed, giving Levi some peace to work.
Sighing, he started on examining the only book he had in his possession, lamenting how, despite it being packed carefully in his bag, it still suffered damage. The front cover and spine had detached, only holding on by the back portion. All the pages had yellowed and curled from the moisture after days when it’d gotten wet and then laid into the sun to dry and then rained on again.
Deciding there was no harm testing his experiment, he wiped the edges down the best he could to clear any loose debris before picking up the brush and applying a thin layer of sap.
“Is that going to work?” Mikasa asked, having silently approached with her blanket in hand.
Levi didn’t startle, long since accustomed to the way the three of them moved quietly as it was their nature to do so. He glanced at the tattered blanket, the last piece of her home before Kenny had become her guardian. Or their guardian. In 8 years, a lot had changed, but Levi could still remember following at Kenny’s heels to the neighbors who held a little baby girl bundled in that same, vibrant blanket.
Now it was dull, pigment bleached out and faded, with various holes that had been patched with different pieces of textile.
“I hope so,” Levi answered, turning his attention to the book. “I wasn’t able to get glue from the last town, but I don’t want to leave it and risk it getting worse.”
Mikasa nodded in understanding. Walking around the table, she placed the blanket on the seat and pushed it over, so it was beside Levi. Seeing her scaling into the seat on all fours had Levi pause with his application, chuffing softly in amusement as she finally managed to turn and settle into the chair. Being 9 years old still didn’t allow her to match the height of fellow human children her age, appearing between four and six if he had to guess. But then his knowledge of other species was limited to strengths and weaknesses in a fight, not much about their lifecycles.
“You good?”
Mikasa nodded, content to watch him work.
Returning to the task, Levi continued where he left off, carefully applying only a little at a time to test it. When the spine was finished with a single coat, he pressed the binding to it, closed the book, and held it against the table to encourage it to set. Knowing it may take a few minutes, he braced his hands over the top to keep pressure and leaned his cheek on his knuckles.
“Do you think honey would work? It’s sticky too,” she asked while eyeing the book and jar thoughtfully.
“Maybe if you’re trying to attract bugs,” Levi answered in his usual bored fashion. “Why? Wanting to try it on your blanket?”
Mikasa seemed to consider it before scrunching her nose and shaking her head. “No. I don’t want bugs.”
Smirking, Levi lifted his cheek enough to free his hand, pressing it on top of Mikasa’s hair in a fond gesture. “But you’re small like a bug.”
“Kenny says I’ll be bigger than you.”
The hand retracted, fondness instantly turned dead on arrival. “Tch, you think that old dog knows what he’s talking about? Whose side are you on?”
Mikasa gave a cheeky grin though her response was innocent, “I don’t know.”
“Mhm,” Levi hummed skeptically.
Sitting up, he laid the book down and cautiously tested it, peeling the broken front open and hoping for a snag at the spine. There was resistance at first before it inevitably gave way and peeled off the pages.
Not bad.
After examining how the sap dried, Levi decided he’d take the risk and apply a slightly thicker layer and repeat the process with the cover if it held after the next test.
“Hey, Levi,” Mikasa ventured as he leaned on the book once again to let it dry. “Will I be able to do the same type of bite as you? Kenny says he can’t do it.”
“... I’m not sure,” he replied after a moment of consideration. “Kenny suspects it has something to do with my father, but he isn’t entirely certain. The only way to know is to try. Why do you ask?”
She dropped her gaze, fingering at a growing tear in the blanket. “I don’t really wansnadoit.”
Levi lifted a brow at her mumbling. “What was that?”
“I don’t really want to... it’s—I don’t like the noises they make when you do it.”
The admission wasn’t so much a surprise as it was a sting. Feeling his eyes widened for a split second, he tamed the reaction down as he looked elsewhere.
Ever since he asked Kenny what he did wrong against the last shooter at his mum’s cottage, his uncle shrugged it off to possible exhaustion and stress. But after witnessing it months later when they had accidentally trespassed on a military camp in eastern Europe, Levi had repeated the bite, feeling how the flesh boiled against his gums, and putrid scent stung his nostrils. After that, Kenny’s tune flipped, suddenly invested in not only listening to how Levi did it but doing all he could to help him harness it. The downside was that it remained a touch-and-go process, only finding ease in applying it when his emotions were high.
Of course, practicing meant there had to be something to do it on, which usually resulted in a bounty hunter or an unfriendly, territorial group looking for trouble. Levi refused to subject an animal to such cruelty. It was bad enough to listen to the victims’ screams, so there was no reason to do it to wildlife, even if it was their meal.
Ripping a soul out of the body was one thing. Burning one out of existence was an entirely different monster.
“Don’t worry,” Levi eventually managed. “I doubt you’d have the ability, and even if you do find you’re capable, you can learn to control it.”
Mikasa appeared disheartened. “I still don’t want to do it.”
Before Levi could get another word out, the door burst open as Kenny entered like a whirlwind. Levi immediately twisted in his seat to look at his uncle, knowing that such an entrance was either one: Kenny’s sick attempt to startle them, or two: urgent and in need of their full fucking attention.
The door slammed behind Kenny; his face twisted in a snarl beneath the skewed hat as he dove for cover. “Get down!”
The next thing Levi knew, the shed became a mess of wood, glass, and dust as everything exploded inwards to the sound of multiple projectiles hitting the structure. They pulverized the table, the chairs, back wall, chewing up the floorboards. Levi had launched himself to the side, tackling Mikasa to the ground, and using his body as shield. Meanwhile, Kenny dropped as the flurry of rounds penetrated the shed, pulling out his sidearm to prepare firing back.
As debris peppered Levi’s neck and face, the first thought was the owner of the shed was pissed at the squatters, but then he hastily corrected that train of thought and realized this had all the makings of an ambush. Skilled enough to catch Kenny off-guard--even have him running back for cover rather than picking them off. And there were multiple shooters which meant...
Bounty hunters. He’d bet money it was the group from Belgium too. Dedicated bunch of motherfuckers, he’d give them that.
The second when the fire ceased, Levi was getting up and hauling Mikasa with him. He cast a glance at Kenny on the other side of the room, tucked beneath a window with glass and wood littering his clothes.
Simultaneously, his eyes locked on Levi’s and he shouted, “Get yer asses out of here!”
Then the bastard hurled himself through the shattered side window, likely to flank the attackers and buy them time.
Levi scooped Mikasa up and pushed out the rear door. She squirmed in his grip, not fighting, but still trying to see the destruction that had turned their night upside down. The sound of firearms popping off were no longer plunking into the house, but shelling for someone outside of it. All Levi registered, however, was the dark woods around them, the defoliated trees offering minimal concealment, and nearly nothing of the understory in the harsh winter months. But the trees presented some sort of obstacle from a bullet finding home in his back. That was something at least.
His head whipped around, searching to avoid the game trails and hoping to find some solid barrier that they could use for cover. As the distance grew, the echoing of shouts and fighting continued to follow them, never letting up from his ears. It pushed him to run harder, knowing they needed to stay ahead of Kenny if he was trying to make his way to them. Because if Kenny caught up before he lost the hunters, they were screwed, so it was up to Levi to keep the distance.
Mikasa’s hands clutched into his shirt, her breathing elevated, but otherwise she stayed quiet, knowing that was the best thing she could do in these instances.
It took a few dozen yards more before he realized that they were not alone. Over the thrashing noise of a nearby river, the sound of someone running behind them had his head whipping around to identify if it was Kenny or not. Maybe his brain wasn’t working quite right, because instinct told him Kenny wouldn’t be making that much noise, even in a mad sprint. His oversight cost him as three rounds went over his head, so close, he swore he felt the heat from the primer’s explosion tracking through the air.
Pushing his shoulder forward to maneuver Mikasa in front of his chest for less exposure, Levi jerked the handgun from his holster as he ran and dumped all six rounds into the pursuing man’s belly. In his haste, he realized too late that the shooter wasn’t the only one following them. A second and third man juked behind a tree, then corrected their pursuit toward the side to distance themselves and circle Levi.
Yup, Levi was full of great decisions tonight.
Picking up his pace, he plunged further into the forest, diving headlong into a thicker patch of brush, hoping the concealment was enough to lose their visuals of the Grims. His lungs felt raw with the cold air as he awkwardly handed the pistol to Mikasa to reload for him, unable to do it with one hand.
A few more rounds barked out and Levi instinctively ducked his head. Fortunately, it was erratic and wide, not quite zeroed in on their location, but getting close.
“Y-you’re bleeding,” Mikasa’s voice tickled his ear.
Looking away from the path in front of him, he met Mikasa’s stricken gaze, wet with tears and terror. Her tiny hands continued to plop round after round carefully into the chamber, impressive in their stillness. Then again, she had been taught her way around a gun as soon as she could walk. It was no wonder it was second nature to the girl. Mikasa could probably load anything they handed to her in her sleep.
Stealing a glance down, he didn’t see any new holes to explain her concern. Then again, he was sprinting through a forest, at night, getting whipped in the damn face by bare twigs. Not ideal conditions for a body check.
“Your head... It’s your head.”
Ah. Sure enough, one of the bullets must’ve grazed his temple, because fuck, now he felt it. The warm blood down his face was mistaken for sweat prior to that revelation. No wonder his decisions were sluggish.
“I’m ok,” he shook off, trying to see if their attackers were any closer. All the shapes in the forest seemed to melt together incoherently, but he knew they were near. “You keep loading the gun.”
Just then, rather out of his distraction, or from the hunter never having lost visuals of them, a burp of gunfire pelted into the tree they were passing, while one bullet skipped and smacked into his thigh. In the very next stride, his leg buckled under him, and he cursed as he hit the ground on his knees and hand. The other arm was secured around Mikasa, holding her to his chest as she gasped and clung to him, careful still not to drop her.
“Levi-!!”
“I’m fine,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Have to move, get your shit together! “Give me the gun.”
Mikasa handed it over as he forced himself upright and took off at an uneven, limping jog. Behind him, he could hear two separate sources pursuing them, hushed orders of directions and warnings. Even further than them, the continued fight with Kenny was still underway though the rate of fire was sporadic, possibly running low on ammunition. So long as the hunters were humans, that worked out for Kenny’s benefit; it brought the fight into close combat where teeth had the advantage.
The pain in his leg shot white zaps down to his toes and up his hip, but the overall intensity was registering as well as he expected. Not enough to debilitate. The body had the built-in protection of adrenaline waves to help the mind process injuries when under duress. It allowed the pain to fade into something more abstract, allowing Levi to focus on getting to safety. It was always nice when his body was working with him rather than against.
Once he broke into a small clearing, running too fast to recognize the error of lost concealment, he swept the gun behind them and fired it until it went empty. By some miracle, he managed to hit someone by the time they reached the woods on the other side, judging by the cry and tumble.
“Here,” he handed the gun to Mikasa who immediately went back to reloading, having to dig into Levi’s pockets of his jacket for any spares. Fuck hindsight. He wished he hadn’t emptied his bag out. Or at the very least, snatched Kenny’s before running out of the back. He couldn’t even remember how many rounds he had left.
Suddenly, a root caught the toe of his boot, and of course it was his injured leg, giving him no chance to catch his balance. The pain intensified all the way to his brain as he fell to the ground, this time unable to brace himself, though he had just enough awareness to twist onto his side and avoid crushing Mikasa. There wasn’t even a scream that left him, just a grunt as white flooded his vision and brain until he was stuck in some liminal space of agony and consciousness. He didn’t know how long he lay there, caging Mikasa to him, but distantly, he recognized someone shaking him.
“Levi—Levi—”
Cracking opening his eyes he tried to shrug the disorientation off, patting Mikasa’s back in hopes to reassure her and keep her quiet. Realizing they had some decent cover where they were, he decided it was a good time to reload and get his bearings. There was disturbance of brush to their west, but it was hard to determine how far away and whether the man he shot was still down or if he recovered.
“Where’s the gun?”
“I—I don’t know.” Her voice was higher even as she whispered the answer, clearly shaken by the events. “I’m sorry. I dropped it when we fell.”
Fuck.
A hasty scan around the forest floor proved vain as all he saw was ferns and leaf litter.
Alright. Time to pivot.
A dark outline to the left drew his attention and Levi started to pull them over to it, mindful to keep the movements slow and close to the ground. When he reached the downed log, he pushed Mikasa toward the rotted center while he propped himself in front of it.
“Stay here. Keep your head down,” he whispered while aiming his gaze on the trees stationed around them. He was starting to get a general idea of where the pursuer was. To a human, the hunter would have been considered quiet in his approach but to Levi, it was a beacon. “I’m going to take these two out, then help Kenny.”
“Wait--!”
Tiny hands latched onto the back of Levi’s shirt, and he could feel the tremble rack through her. It was rare to see Mikasa so rattled, but then he suspected having a head wound and gunshot to the leg was not much of a confidence booster.
“You’re hurt, what if something happens?”
“My head looks worse than it is. Leg’s already healing. You just need to focus on hiding until I get back, alright?”
“I don’t like it,” it was difficult to see her expression under the downed tree. Moss and ferns had overwhelmed much of the bark, making it a rather good hiding spot. “Kenny won’t like it either.”
“He’ll like it when I’m saving him from getting shot.”
The footsteps were trudging closer. He was running out of time.
“Stay here,” he ordered with finality, hoping it translated through the whisper. For a last effort in reassuring the girl, he rubbed her head before creeping low around nearby shrubs.
***
Four legs were better than two. Hell, three legs weren’t too bad when the fourth was injured. While his healing worked to counter the damage done to his traumatized muscle, Levi was still able to dive through the understory in a series of feedback responses. He could sense where the enemy was moving before he even had eyes on him. Felt the danger, the presence like an itch trying to get his attention.
Launching himself from the brush, he took the hunter at his exposed side, ripping the arm holding the gun upwards as he rode the body to the ground. The subconscious wiring of his instincts hastily identified a weakness, and he bore down with his teeth, tearing into the soft body and ripping his head back and forth.
It was only when the second hunter came to his teammate’s cries, and only when Levi was certain the wounds were fatal, that he exploded back into the trees. Being previously wounded, he wasn’t willing to risk direct attacks, but rather the smart and ambush-like alternative. Not to mention, it’d be difficult for the hunters to land another bullet if he was constantly moving.
The hunter let off a series of rounds and Levi had to appreciate the man’s judgement. Rather than helping his screaming companion by his feet, he chose to prioritize the Hellhound. Not that it was an illogical decision. The injured man was as good as dead, shredded abdomen, punctured intestines and liver. If he managed to survive the night, he’d die soon after by sepsis.
As the bullets chased Levi, the pain contracted his muscles in his leg, but the brain did well to block most of it. It was right as Levi was circling, preparing to plunge into the man’s unintentionally opened side that a tingling thought occurred to him: The gunfight with Kenny had gone quiet.
That was concerning, given there weren’t screams of chaos either. And what was more alarming was another hunter’s scent getting stronger on the breeze. Reinforcements for the trio that were after Levi and Mikasa were the last thing they needed.
Kenny, you better not be dead...
Bullets buzzed by his ears as he charged forward from the skeletal bare shrubs, sinking his teeth into the nearest hunter’s calf. The man yelled, swinging the butt of his rifle stock into Levi like a bat, hoping to pry him off. The impacts had Levi fearing his skull would crack under the assault, so by the second dizzying hit, he dug his elongated claws into the earth, stiffened his hackles, and tugged.
Hard.
The tingling--near crackling—texture prickled the surface of his tongue as the oily veil coated the crevices between his canines. Each sensation was followed by the surge of power within his chest, urging him more and more and more.
The soul peeled from the man’s still breathing body, a howl of pure torment split through his vocal cords and, somewhere in the distant recesses of the Grim’s mind, Levi knew it wasn’t a kind way to extract the soul. Usually, it was done upon death, but while the body still drew breath and had a thriving heart, there was a strong likelihood the mortal’s essence was about to splinter. But he did not think about that, because wild creatures didn’t succumb to thoughts of empathy when under attack.
With a final snarl, he jerked his head to the side and the crumpling body fell like a marionette. Lifeless and stone-still. Panting and releasing the glowing ball of soul energy from his jaws to be blipped into the Netherworld, Levi didn’t stick around. He had another problem to deal with thus returned to the cover of the night's shadows and trees to determine his next move.
It was fortunate that he had adapted quickly to Kenny’s teachings, learning to not only observe his opponents while on the move, determine weak points, and (usually) avoid injury, but also to mentally stay aware of his surroundings. Not once when navigating the foreign landscape in the dark did Levi lose track of where he left Mikasa, nor the approaching enemy.
Mikasa was to his right, the next hunter to his left and a bit ahead of him.
For a split second, he thought about returning to the log, digging her out, and continuing their flight away from the mountain side. But then he thought, They’ll just keep following us. We’re without a gun. And there’s no sign of Kenny.
Which then turned into, Fuck it. I’m taking them down.
So far, he only tracked one hunter nearby, but if there were more approaching, he wouldn’t be surprised. Especially, if it was the group from Belgium sent after the so-called ‘Beast of Flanders’ that Kenny had stupidly been dubbed.
Fuck--he told Kenny when the townspeople wrongly accused the homeless man, it’d still come back to bite them in the ass. There were enough people who didn’t believe the man living in an alley was responsible for the death of the family on Church soil. Enough voices standing behind the witness who saw Kenny leave the scene, who then pulled together funds for a top-tier hunting party to go after the one truly responsible.
Devils be damned.
So, yeah. Taking out the threats were the better option at the moment. That was doable and within his wheelhouse to accomplish.
Adjusting his direction, Levi decided a full-on, no-nonsense, attack on the hunter was the best option. Get him before he set eyes on Levi.
With renewed determination, Levi picked his way through the woods by scent and sound, then the closer he got, he was relying solely on scent alone. The churning river waters were fast and pregnant with rainfall and beginnings of snowmelt as spring approached, making the sound drown out the crunching of leaves and shuffling of branches. Soon enough, Levi found his target trotting along the bank where the trees were spaced further away as their roots were able to reach the flood bank.
Levi thrust himself at the shooter, but by some ill-luck, the man was not only bigger than the other three, but had spotted Levi a split second too early. He took some stumbling steps backwards through the mud, causing Levi to just miss clamping down on his shoulder. Twisting around and sliding on his landing, Levi tried again but realized neither of them were in a great position to maneuver being so close and on slick ground. It certainly didn’t help the Grim that the hunter had a revolver in hand, ideal for a close shooting, particularly when the muzzle was already positioning dead center of his eyes.
He felt the intensity of action come upon him like an unstoppable impulse and he lunged forward into danger rather than away. The effort to get out of the fatal line proved fruitful, if only for the man’s inability to flick back the hammer and fire on time. But the loud bang still rapped Levi’s ears, sending a ringing to ricochet around his skull as he barreled into the man.
Both splattered into the mud as Levi bit the hunter’s bicep, finding more resistance in the thick leather coat. The guy bucked with a cry, angling the pistol to shoot Levi point blank, but the Grim was already detached from the body and biting down on the offensive hand with teeth crunching knuckles. The trigger was squeezed, another round spitting agony in Levi’s head by sound alone as the bullet passed by his ear--high pitched ringing so loud it was its own source of pain. Then, the hunter’s free hand scratched and clawed at Levi’s muzzle, trying to get his busted limb out from the pistol and Grim’s jaws.
Levi clenched his eyes shut to avoid the scraping fingernails which then turned into fists. But with the gun still in the man’s hand, Levi wasn’t willing to give up his hold. The hunter wasn’t letting go anytime soon either, though he was quick to change tactics when blunt trauma failed to deter Levi’s attack. And while he was too slow with the trigger pull the first time, he made up for it by retracting the knife on his hip and plunging it through Levi’s rib.
A sharp yelp from the Grim was just the opening the man needed to shove him off and scramble to his feet. Unfortunately for him, Levi’s adrenaline was already at peak levels. His instincts fully slotted in place from fighting prior opponents. The grueling pain, knife protruding from his side, the blood across his injured face. None of it truly registered. So, before the man could reach a full stand to aim his gun, Levi was in midair, teeth baring into the man’s face in the process.
The scream being shoved down Levi’s throat was a strange feeling, but he didn’t get much time to consider it as the hunter had tried to twist them around half-way through the attack. As a result, it sent them rolling through the mud, followed by a little drop of nothingness, and then...
They hit the water, and it felt like an assault on every inch of his body.
The frigid temperature was enough to seize his breath as he let off the hunter, and a cloud of blood surrounded him. He vaguely felt the silty substrate at the river bottom against his paws while the relentless current pushed against him, tumbling him once, then twice in a barrel roll. The hunter wasn’t in any better control as a boot clipped Levi while the man spiraled. There wasn’t much concern about the threat the guy posed, as their circumstances instantly turned the river into the more severe issue.
Levi’s brain was firing too many warnings at once. Circling around how cold the river was: Shit—I’m going to die of hypothermia. The protruding object in his ribs: Gonna fucking bleed out. Then: Where’s the damn surface?!
There was no fighting the current, he could tell by how fast he was being swept away that he was along for the ride, so Levi simply started swimming towards where he thought was the surface, clawing through the murky water that pressed in on him.
Branches scraped at his fur, silt clouded his view, but he kept paddling and kicking, until he realized he was rising. The oxygen turning stale in his lungs burned, urging him to keep moving through the pain. Then, after what felt like ages, Levi’s muzzle broke the surface, hitting the unfriendly chilly air.
He coughed and hacked up water, but the currents were relentless, even shoving him down below the surface before he bobbed back up. Despite the bullet wound and knife still stuck in him, Levi propelled his legs furiously to keep him afloat while trying to find a way out. To his left was the bank he was previously on, sliding by at a worrying speed. It didn’t take much calculation for him to determine that the amount of water that separated him from the sides was too much to swim in those conditions.
A tree branch glided overhead, and he tried to lunge for it, but it was too far out of reach, barely skimming his muzzle. He considered shifting, but until the knife was removed, he was stuck in his canine form unless he risked further damage being inflicted.
Ahead of him, by nearly 20 yards, the hunter was kicking and struggling to reach logs or rocks, dunking under the white churning water before plunging upwards for air. Levi was about to do the same by looking for something to leverage him out when the hunter suddenly froze. It lasted two seconds, then three, then five before he burst into a new level of desperation, turning directly toward Levi and flailing to grasp at nothing. The sheer panic startled the Grim until he saw the source.
To his dismay, it was a fear he hadn’t realized he harbored until faced with it.
The river currents were picking up, white caps revealing exposed, smoothed boulders, and then—quite distinctly—a drop into blackness.
In his current form, Levi did his best to backpedal, splashing loudly as the river dragged them to the end. No matter what, he couldn’t force himself to turn away from the looming waterfall, as if losing sight of it would make him arrive faster.
Not this! Fuck!
He put everything he had into reaching a rock or log or even the mad attempt to reach the bank. But it was useless. There was no outswimming the current. The river had them in its clutches and were going to drag him wherever if wanted.
Ahead of him, the bank seemed to bulge in toward the river where a gnarly mass of tree roots had beached. In a last effort to get out of the water, Levi attempted to use the river's current to propel his direction. The twisted wood loomed closer and just as he was passing it, he realized that it wasn’t enough. In the cruelest mocking fashion, the Grim was swept by at a taunting distance, mere feet from latching on. The disappointment began to swell, and just as he was going to tr--
The world heaved.
Levi was suddenly lifted into the air--No. He wasn’t lifted. He was plunging.
The sharp hiss of wind rushing past his ears as it whipped at his fur was nearly as loud as the growing roar below. Cold spray of water pelted his skin while his stomach found residence in his throat and then—it was over.
The world turned thick and muted and dark as he was forced into the bottom of the falls. It felt like a physical wall had smacked into him, while everything instantly sounded waterlogged. The pain in his side became a new presence against the assault on his senses and a vibrant cloud of red swirled in the churning muck beneath the plunging water.
It took an absurd amount of effort to swim free from the downward pressure of the water, but eventually, he was cutting through the surface with a gasp and whine. The unyielding current from above was gentler at the lower level, as if sensing his exhaustion and showing mercy. He swore his obsidian coat was slimy with algae and other muck from the river, but he was too beat to think about that.
With a little bit more willpower than what was in his tank, feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, Levi managed to clamber to his feet in the shallows only to drag his aching body to the shore. His entire frame shivered from the horrid cold, leeching the heat away with the gust of wind. Making it a few feet out of the water, he collapsed, shaking violently, each breath nearly overwhelming with the ache in his side. But solid ground was good. So much better than the alternative.
A cursory glance around proved he was alone with no sign of the hunter anywhere. Whether the gunman was already on the shore or swept further away, Levi didn’t know. What he did know, however, was that he needed to get back to Mikasa.
Therefore, with a vibrating body and hunched shoulders, Levi pushed himself to his feet and started navigating a path back up the steep terrain.
***
The log was empty.
Rain pelted around him, not that Levi noticed when he was still soaked from the river. But it certainly made things difficult.
Upon returning to the tree he left Mikasa at, he fell into a panic, scouring the area and looking for scent trails to enlighten him on what happened. The musky cologne and tobacco that could only belong to Kenny was there with Mikasa, meaning he must’ve retrieved her, although the tang of his uncle's blood wasn't an ideal discovery. The only consolation he had was no other smells were there, meaning a hunter couldn’t have found her before the older Grim. Aside from that, Levi was no less stressed.
The trail was washed away and any chances of finding bits of it were dwindling with each passing second. He followed it as far as he could before he lost it completely. Turning back, he debated on the next course of action: Either to stay at the log and hope Kenny would come back after Mikasa told him so, or wait at the shed. Perhaps, they doubled back to get the gear once they were sure it was safe to do so. It seemed like the better possibility than staying out in the open.
That was where Levi planted himself at for the time, right back at the semi-destroyed structure. There never was a plan made for a rendezvous in the area if they ever got separated, nor did they decide where their next destination was. After the hasty flee from Belgium, everything had been a true Kenny-fashioned wing-in approach. The bright side was their gear was still inside the shed. The downside was that most was ruined by gunfire or weather, particularly his book that his mother had given him.
Sighing, he collected anything of value and stuffed it into his bag. Then waited.
Days passed. Then it ticked over into a week.
The knife wound had finally closed up with a faint pink line, slightly more noticeable than a few others marring his body, but mild considering the circumstances. The internal injuries, if any, hadn’t caused him problems, so organs were miraculously in one piece as a result. Levi knew how lucky he was to not sustain significant damage to an offal, though if he had to guess, having the blade held in place between bone was likely the reason for it. All the jarring and swimming otherwise would've been worse.
By the time the second week arrived, Levi was certain Kenny and Mikasa had long since moved on. There were a couple towns he could think of to check, but he wasn’t holding out hope.
The world was vast, and Kenny didn’t stick to just the European countries to stay on the move. Before Kuchel’s death, the old dog had been a traveler to Asian countries and even the America’s twice. After the disastrous ambush on them, coupled with Kenny's horrible reputation in Belgium, there was no telling what extremes his uncle would take to keep them safe. For all the older Grim knew, Levi could’ve perished during the night of the attack, therefore fall under the incorrect impression that it was only him and Mikasa left. If he had tracked Levi's scent to the river, he no doubt lost it and had no other idea what happened to his nephew.
Or the results could be reversed. Something could’ve happened to them, leaving Levi as the last representative of the Ackerman clan.
Either way, it appeared Levi was inevitably forced to make his own way in the crazy world. Not only as a lone Supra, but also a hellhound with no allies.
He wasn’t sure if that was a death sentence therefore, he was on borrowed time, or if his long life ahead would consist of turbulent trials as he’d already experienced.
Only time would tell.
Notes:
Natal day: the widely used term referring to birthdays in the 1800-1900’s.
Lunar day: A hellhound term for birthday. Although, it’s not a widely celebrated holiday for Grims as the Netherworld does not have the same societal milestones as the living realm.
Stóirín: little treasure or darling
Leamhan: moth
Quote from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (published early 1800’s)
Phthisis: another name for tuberculosis in 19th century Ireland.
According to some astrology chart found on the internet (I’m too math-illiterate to do it myself) Levi’s birth month in 1861 was when a Black Moon occurred. So, yay for semi-reliant research fitting into my twist on Hellhounds! XD
Whoo! Long chapter and longer notes. Part 1 of Levi's past wasn’t supposed to be this lengthy, but I didn’t like the shortened version of the draft. **shrugs** So, it’s been rewritten... nearly twice 😅 That and the fact it's been a crazy week, I apologize for the three-day late update. But at least it's within the same week! Later, the Part 2 of his backstory will consist of his time with Tybur which will be very dark indeed.
Thank you for reading, commenting, and for the kudos! I hope everyone is doing alright with these weird times. Until next time, stay safe! 🩶🖤
Chapter 16: Disassembled Creatures
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
“What?”
Erwin smiled diplomatically despite the barbed question and withering glare.
“I ... was admiring your choice of clothes is all.” His eyes tracked down Levi’s front from across the hood of the vehicle, not quite appraising nor done in disapproval.
Levi shut the passenger door and crossed his arms over his chest, doing all he could not to look at the oversized hoody and joggers hanging off him. “Why? It’s not like I changed between your house and here.”
“No,” Erwin conceded, clicking the key fob to lock the SUV. “You’re correct. However, I'd like to reiterate that I do intend to supply you with clothes of your own. I haven’t forgotten.”
Shrugging and diverting his gaze, Levi replied nonchalantly, “Tired of me wearing yours?”
Erwin chuckled good naturedly. “I certainly do not mind you wearing my clothes, Levi, although I also feel you’d appreciate having some personal items. Am I wrong?”
Levi continued to absently scan the building’s private parking lot, occupied by service vehicles not currently used by teams out on tasks. The GSIS gate guard sat in his security box looking at his phone, but otherwise it was only them on the grounds.
When Levi didn’t answer, Erwin attempted to snag his attention back to their conversation. “I’d imagine it’s been some time since you’ve had your own wardrobe.”
“Are we going inside or not?”
Erwin raised an eyebrow, undeterred by the abrupt arrival of the Grim’s prickly attitude. Rather than comment directly and risk escalating the situation, he began to lead the way to the backdoor of GSIS, muttering to himself, “Well, this is proving to be an enlightening trip.”
Of course, Levi could hear him.
Trailing the reaper, he glowered at the man’s back, “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Levi,” Erwin replied over his shoulder, “that I’ve noticed your anxiety makes you short-tempered.”
“I don’t have anxiety. I’m fine.”
Right, Erwin’s facial expression conveyed, just digging further beneath Levi’s skin. You’re wound tighter than a spring, it said.
Levi’s annoyance flared, having already been in a mood that morning. The lack of sleep wasn’t doing him any services, nor the fact that he’d been under the impression that the ‘socialization’ of their deal would be something like a park, not the Federal agency that had him in one of their cells. The sweet cherry on top of his shit Sundae was the that the reaper had been less sincere than normal. Or distracted. Truthfully, Levi couldn’t quite tell the difference which did little to reassure him.
“Tch, I don’t know why you’re talking about clothes all of a sudden.” Levi went on to complain, dodging the accusation in the best way he knew how: by rambling and grousing. “I was under the impression that you wanted to make this trip quick, not to mention you know the other clothes you have don’t fit me. If you had such a problem with it, there were plenty of opportunities to say something sooner, rather than make these stupid comments about it now.”
“I think you misunderstand me, Levi. I do not have a problem with your attire, I assure you. One would say the opposite, in fact.” The reaper sounded like he was enjoying the conversation much too Levi’s exasperation. “In my defense, this is the first time we’re interacting as such outside of the cabin. It’s as much a new experience for me as it is for you.”
Levi’s thoughts lingered a moment longer on Erwin’s vague confession of liking the clothes on him before he forcefully shoved them aside.
Upon reaching the door, Erwin halted and removed his phone from his pocket. He sent a text to Nanaba, informing her that they were waiting outside, having coordinated an arrangement to meet previously. Per their earlier discussion, it wasn’t the original plan to stop at GSIS with Levi so soon, yet having to come into town already for the gleaning, he figured it’d be good to catch up with the rest of the team. Integrating an impromptu socialization test with the hellhound was just a convenient side quest; catch two fish with one net, so to speak.
As they waited, Levi shuffled in place, head on a swivel while his fingers dug into his forearms.
Not anxious. Just... restless. No crime against that.
Predictably, it didn’t take long before the silence became a bit too uncomfortable, leaving him to dwell on all the things he didn’t want to—it feels like someone is watching us, that roof there is perfect for a shooter with a tranquilizer, what if there’s vampires inside and I can’t keep my shit together, fuck, I’m tired, and what’s been Erwin’s deal?
The latter thought was the easiest to latch onto, as the man had a way at both irking him and making Levi confused as to how quick he could lower his guard and converse like normal. Almost as if it was the start of a strange friendship, though Levi would be hard pressed to call it as such. Alliance in the making seemed more apt—and even that was generous given the distrust he held for the peacock reaper. In his three-piece suit. Hair coifed. Posture proper and firm, never forced...
“You know,” he eventually drawled, partly distracted on watching their surroundings, partly to help give his mind something solid to focus on, “if we’re sharing observations, I have one of my own.”
At this, Erwin shifted to cordially face Levi, giving him full attention as he usually did.
“Oh?” he tilted his head to the side in an inquiring gesture. “I’m eager to hear your view on whatever it is that warranted notice.”
Levi eyed him from his peripheral, contemplating whether to commit to revealing his studies or not. Eventually, he said fuck it as his curiosity won out on what the reaper had to say with Levi’s rude prodding.
“They say a person’s favorite sound is their own name. Those that are trying to get something from them will usually repeat it to make them feel acknowledged, coax them to drop their guard, and eventually get them to like the other.” Keeping his body mostly toward the building, Levi swiveled his chin a couple of inches further to stare at Erwin, watching for any sign of dishonesty. “Is that why you say my name so often? Trying to get me to warm up to you?”
In the briefest flash, the amusement of the reaper’s gaze dampened to something neutral. If Levi had to guess, Erwin hadn’t anticipated being so blatantly accused of psychological manipulation. He wondered how often the well-respected and armored suit-wearing façade drifted through socialite minglings with no one catching a glimpse of what lay beneath. Always a firm grip on the reins: one to control the situation, and the second to ground his apathetic detachment--both dancing on the razor’s edge of every interaction so as not to draw attention to his purpose.
Levi wasn’t a stranger to orchestrating situations to his goal; however, the difference was, he knew what he wanted. As for Erwin, he was still unsure what motivated the reaper, and what role he hoped Levi would play, aside from helping with the case. Something continued to nibble at the back of his mind that there was something more he wasn’t seeing.
“Is that what you believe I’m doing,” Erwin eventually replied, the earlier playfulness tucked away somewhere out of reach.
When he continued speaking, Levi felt like the reaper’s presence grew, but wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or it was simply his nerves poking at his self-preservation, warning he was overstepping.
“Do you see me as a trickster trying to find a weakness in your walls with gentle prodding by the use of your name?”
Levi’s eyes narrowed; a twisting fog began to simmer in his gut at Erwin’s avoidance. “Perhaps I wasn’t under that impression so firmly.”
Erwin cocked a brow challengingly, the bottom of his Oxford shoe grating on tiny sidewalk pebbles after stepping closer to the hellhound. Only a foot apart now, Levi could sense that Erwin’s gaze had changed, turned heavy with inspection. It set the hair on the back of his neck to stand, though he schooled his countenance to remain between irritated and indifferent.
A close-lipped, unrepentant smirk tugged at the edges of Erwin’s lips and Levi felt his brows pinch together, while a cold draft nettled through the fibers of the sweatshirt.
“Your name must be a powerful tool then, to pose such a threat to your defenses. How fortunate of me to hold a formidable device. Or perhaps its fortunate for you, Levi.”
He could feel himself bristling at the implied challenge Erwin was hanging over the empty space between them, baiting him to take a bite. What would happen if Levi did, he wasn’t sure. Was Erwin trying to prove a point? Get under Levi’s skin to determine what buttons to push to get the desired reaction from him?
Was it mocking or teasing?
“I don’t know what your game is, Smith, but I wo—”
“Erwin, please.”
The fucking nerve... “But,” Levi continued sternly, ignoring his request, “I won’t be so easily manipulated. So, good luck with that because I can see through your shit.”
Instead of taking offense or subtly putting Levi in his place, Erwin chuckled, though it felt flat, lacking the lightness which was present only a short time ago. It was proof that Mr. Fashionable Reaper was not used to Levi’s flavor of reception. A spark of glee curled within the Grim, knowing he’d knocked the man off his game, similar to how he’d been feeling since leaving the cabin.
Misery loved company.
“I must admit, your cleverness hasn’t failed once to surprise me. That being said, the answer I believe you’re looking for would be no. I’m not saying your name frequently to worm my way into the favor of your subconscious, but it is a relief that you’re aware of potential influences others with ill-intent may have.”
“You say, ‘the answer I’m looking for’ but that doesn't clear up if it’s your answer.”
Erwin stared at Levi for a handful of seconds, unreadable and not once drifting from his eyes. It gave Levi the distinct impression those blue irises were attempting to flay him open like river currents erode stone.
“I suppose that’s up to interpretation. If I were to deny I had no such intentions, my word would mean little to you when there’s a lack of trust. You may act civil and complacent to what I ask, but you’re prepared—even now—to counter anything that happens should I do something against you. You only believe what has been proven to you, not promised... Please, correct me if I’m wrong.”
Levi bit back a frustrated growl. The overly impeccable manners were apparently the reaper’s defense mechanism when challenged. Even if the man was acting a little more stiff than usual, he hadn’t felt like a full mask was situated in place with false pleasantries earlier that morning. Levi just wanted the truth—the kind that could only come from Erwin’s mouth before his tongue could twist it some other way, like those bloody thought-provoking questions.
Before Levi could retort, the door opened outward, causing Erwin to sidestep. A flaxen-haired woman with faint freckles over the bridge of her nose hung in the threshold, analyzing the two of them as if she sensed she’d interrupted something.
“Hey,” she greeted, holding the door as Erwin grabbed the top. Her gaze tracked to Levi standing a few feet away, eyeing her with no small amount of skepticism in return. “Hi, you must be Levi. We haven’t met yet. I’m Nanaba, long-time friend of Erwin’s and Mike’s wife. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
The Grim nodded with a grunt, not offering any further salutation. Nanaba was unperturbed, gaze lingering a second longer before looking at Erwin.
“Hello, Nana. Are the halls cleared?” he asked.
“Of vampires? Yes. I didn’t clear the entire lower level—can’t with the amount of employees and assignments going on, but vampires have been directed upstairs temporarily.” She pinged a look between them quickly. “That’ll work, right? Or do we need to do something else?”
Erwin nodded, shooting Levi a secretive look that the Grim didn’t bother to return. “That’ll be fine. We have somewhere else to be later, so we’ll try to keep it short and not interrupt anyone’s assignments longer than necessary.”
Limit exposure was more like it.
Despite being there now with little planning on what would happen if something went sideways, both men were still leery. Sadly, on some level, it was bound to happen, especially if Levi was going to commit to his so-called training. The semi-controlled environment like GSIS was as good a place to start with a confined building where there were various resources to desist an attack. On the other hand, it was an exponentially worse setting seeing as it would only take one incident from Levi to end up in the holding cells again. One attack on an employee or agent and Erwin would have a whole mess of issues that overshadowed WMC training.
“Alright, come on then.” She stepped aside to make room. “We should get to the lab before someone who didn’t get the memo comes down here.”
Erwin gestured for Levi to enter before him, but the grim only stared, refusing to play along and be stuck between the two reapers. Sighing, Erwin passed the threshold first, swinging the door open enough for Levi to catch and follow at his own pace. Upon the door closing behind them, the trio started down the wide corridor, which was busier than Levi had mentally prepared for.
Recalling that GSIS was filled with mostly reapers, Levi was ruefully on edge. He felt himself withdraw, eyes scanning each door they passed and every person moving around the walkway between areas. At one point, a room opened as a larger group of people spilled out while carrying notebooks and clipboards held to their chests, chatting about nonsense he assumed was from a briefing.
Erwin continued forward, his gaze either locked on where he was going or sending the occasional side-eye over his shoulder at Levi. Strangely, Levi didn’t feel indignant over the measuring glances, instead finding it reassuring that Erwin would intervene if anything set him off. He still wasn’t entirely sure if his reaction to vampires was a conscious decision or result of accidental conditioning.
As they continued, it didn’t escape Levi’s notice that the crowd parted around the trio like a fox through tall grass, casting wary stares at Erwin and Nanaba. It took the slight disturbance of air for Levi to catch the scent of humans and wolvens in the group, with a couple of what he assumed were reapers intermingled. Rebounding his sights on Erwin’s respectable posture, Levi tried to pinpoint what it was that made the others step out of the reapers’ way, but he failed to see what made them so blatantly cautious. Perhaps, it was his rank or standing, or even Nanaba’s? What did he call himself? A consultant? That didn’t seem to be a title to stir that level of reaction.
No. It seemed that everyone naturally gave the two reapers a wide birth out of some primordial impulse written in their reptilian-brains, warning them to keep their heads down and get the fuck out of the way of the marauder in their midst. He recalled Erwin mentioning that morning how Reapers were usually viewed with disdain or fear in society, even having uncomfortable experiences in restaurants despite only being there to eat like everyone else. Servers and other staff seemed to carry a fear that an overcooked steak or failed refill of their water would result in a gleaning.
An overreaction, if one asked Levi’s opinion, but then again, his experience with said species was laughably limited. Plus, had he forgotten those little red flags he’s noticed slip through Erwin’s personification? Like that vein of possessiveness?
Not at all. So, while Levi didn’t think Erwin would have some Prima Donna-tantrum and glean someone’s soul for undercooked broccoli, he couldn’t say Erwin was unshakable and void of holding a grudge. Which could be just as dangerous and hard to predict.
He then couldn’t help but wonder what sort of treatment Grims would receive if their existence ever came to light. Initial reactions may see them as a new subspecies of wolvens, considering them better adapted to fitting a role as a docile pet. But upon learning of their ability to extract souls, would that earn them respect like the reapers or more fear, making them Public Enemy number one? A shifter where one bite could spell death.
All the more reason to play up the ruse he was a poorly bred loup-garou, as Erwin agreed. The only comfort Levi did feel about Erwin knowing the truth was that the reaper clearly wanted something from him, which guaranteed he wouldn’t be spilling the secret to anyone other than his friends. He supposed he should find it concerning to some extent, but in that case, it was a relief.
“What had come of The Olympian?” Erwin asked, bringing Levi out of his musings.
Nanaba led them down a turn in the corridor that was much quieter than the main hall. “Jean spoke to the Editorial Board and a few other employees there regarding today’s paper. Apparently, there was an article that was submitted anonymously with an envelope of money requesting a place in the pages. And when I say money, I mean enough for the paper company to not bother reporting it to officials or asking questions, fully intending to do as was requested.”
“Did they manage to publish it?”
Nanaba snorted a laugh. “No. They tried to argue the draft was already pending online posting and had begun printing, but Jean threatened them with a Prior Restraint action as the article and money was tied to a murder investigation. Of course, freedom of press dictates that the company is still in their right to publish it, but the Editorial Board at least saw sense that there was potential of the article inciting violence—which could turn into a lawsuit after our request to not print it.”
“Incite violence?” Erwin echoed. “What did it say?”
Nanaba stopped at a door with a window built in. The blinds were pulled down, not allowing a visualization inside, yet the Medical Examiner label on the placard was telling enough. She knocked on the door, followed by a voice calling for entry inside.
“Is Hange in today?” Erwin asked suddenly, before Nanaba could open the room.
“No, she’s at the university for a staff meeting for the upcoming semester. She’ll be by later this afternoon.” She turned to Levi as if she just remembered he was with them, “I don’t know if Erwin warned you already, but we do have a body on the table. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can cover him up or move to another room.”
“I’ve seen plenty of bodies.”
Probably not the best reassurance he could’ve given, judging by her drawn brows, but it was too late to take back now.
Erwin thankfully stepped in. “I trust Levi to inform us if a break is needed.”
“Right,” she drawled, eyes drifting down Levi’s figured with a hint of amusement. At least she wasn’t put off by his blunt response. “Well, come on in. The others are waiting.” She shoved the door open and led the way through. “And to answer your question, the article submitted certainly was provoking, though not in the way we anticipated.”
Upon following the reapers inside, Levi winced at the assault of artificial light that flooded the room. The acrid scent of chemicals, the shiny stainless-steel tables, and overall sterile environment caused his shoulders to stiffen involuntarily.
Standing around an occupied table with a blond man sutured with a Y-cut and towel over his waist, were two men watching them approach. Together, they offered familiar greetings to Erwin, though their gazes continued to magnetize to Levi as they came to a stop at the body.
“Levi, this is Moblit, our Medical Examiner, and you’ve sort of met Mike before.”
Moblit offered a polite nod while Mike tossed him a crooked smirk. “Nice to see you out from behind bars.”
“Mhm,” Levi agreed, wondering if Erwin had warned them not to offer their hands in a welcoming gesture or if they were automatically cautious of him. Whatever the reason, he was pleased he was spared an awkward moment of refusing to shake hands. “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
Mike snorted. “Planning on returning so soon?”
Not meeting anyone’s eyes, keeping his attention trained on their movements, the floor, the wall behind their heads, the occupied table, Levi shrugged. “Depends on how bored I get.”
There was a pause of silence between the group as all eyes locked on the grim. He managed to not fidget under their scrutiny, wondering if they thought he was serious or caught on to his dry sense of humor. After another second, Moblit chuffed, as if he recognized the joke.
“I’m sure you won’t have many dull moments with these three around.”
The tension eased up after that and the group turned their attentions to the case. Levi exhaled a long string of air and hung back against the cabinets that stored other bodies. He was more than happy to keep to himself while Erwin did whatever he needed to do.
“Here’s the article you were asking about,” Nanaba handed Erwin a piece of paper. “What we learned was Hannes’ daughter was a victim of a perceived hate crime against wolvens which he and a friend decided to become hobbyist activists for. They started their, well, blog/online news site for the purpose of encouraging more rights for wolvens, primarily equal treatment in the workplace and affordable healthcare.”
Mike continued, “The article was supposedly submitted by Hannes, but as you’ll see, the message is obviously the opposite of his known opinion.”
Erwin turned his attention to the paper and began to read it quietly. Levi waited, wondering what it was that was so important until Erwin found a paragraph he decided to read aloud.
“These activists, these... PETAW and other affiliates are equivalent to their kine ilk. All wailing that the whole of the wolven community should be treated the same as humans and other Supras. That their exclusion is considered as unfair in a society evolved to accept each and every member as contribution.
These foolish cries for equality ignore and negate the instinctual driving force that not all are meaningful to the apex species. That natural and evolutionary physiological traits have allowed adaptation to permit exclusion between predators and prey. Even Reapers understand that. Some, despite their claim for balance, share the same views. Your beloved Charles Darwin has touched on evolution and species choosing favorable traits to survive and yet we have activists pressing for the opposite. To dilute the adapted genes into weaker hybrids...”
Erwin glanced at his companions, a frown etching across his face. “It seems our suspect is someone who has a very strong opinion on species hierarchy and evolutionary exclusion. A purist.”
“That’s what we concluded as well,” Mike concurred, “But why target Hannes, and submit a paper that clearly shares opposite views than what he stood for? A grudge? Were they trying to humiliate him?”
“I don’t suspect it’s as simple as a grudge. The murder went beyond a crime of passion, having been elevated to a rendition of an art piece. Everything was done with a purpose. Not to mention the similarities to the Cascade Butcher victims.”
“So, if it was the same group under Grice, then perhaps the targeting of Hannes was meant to progress their goal,” Nanaba hypothesized. “But if that’s the case, then it negates the explanation that Grice was testing humans to see if they had what it took to be reborn as vampires.”
Moblit seemed unstirred, “Not that we truly believed that was the reason to begin with. I’m still pretty sure this was just to get the students to murder people.”
“Not just people,” Erwin said, “but humans, wolvens, and one vampire. And the vampire was a mistake, which means they were only meant to target the other two species.”
“Species that the suspect deems lesser,” Nanaba concluded. “Which may give further insight as to the reason for the apologetic poses of the bodies. Seeking forgiveness and mercy from the apex species for diluting bloodlines, possibly.”
Levi saw Erwin face him from his peripheral and he braced for what was to come.
“You mentioned something of your experience with the coven the other day, Levi. Particularly how they believe they were better than others. Does the article sound in-line with Tybur’s dogma?”
Levi didn’t have to think hard on it. “Sure. The phrase ‘kine ilk’ is a common term tossed around when he’d have his private dinner parties with other coven leaders. There’re some humans that he respects, but the population as a whole, he disregards.”
Mike frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter behind him. “That doesn’t really pin him to the case though. Especially if other coven leaders share the same opinion. For all we know, this could be a multi-clan initiative to stir discord and murder innocents. There's also the fact that we can’t rule out a reaper as a possible suspect as well. The author went out of his way to mention reapers, plus none of them were victims.”
Nanaba waved a hand in the air as if wafting at a fly. “I’d argue it’s not a reaper. The victims were other species because it takes a specific process to kill us. A crafted down scythe for one, plus I doubt anyone would risk death against something so formidable. Not only that, but the article made it sound like they labeled reapers as an inclusion. Not a justification. They implied it wasn’t just their view alone, therefore was more than the ravings of a heretic, which means it must be true.”
Erwin set the paper down, “While it creates more questions as to motives, we can say that sowing conflict is a safe bet to make as to the reasons of our killers.”
“I’d say so,” Mike scoffed. “Between that and the media from the crime scene, there’s plenty of trouble getting stirred up with the public. SRC will be busy with their PR circus for a while.”
“You’re talking about the leak of information from one of the apartment tenants?”
“Them too. But apparently, others have taken to social media and are accusing GSIS of not taking the Cascade Butcher case seriously. Some are even going so far as to say that Reapers are tired of being collared and limited on who to kill, so they’re letting killers stay loose to increase the death count.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Nanaba sighed. “Conspiracies will always circulate around Reapers. We’re the most misunderstood as to our motives. Still, a bit of education would stem a lot of these crazy beliefs. Particularly, if they knew we don’t benefit by someone else killing people. We’re not malevolent or sadistic. It’s just our instincts to keep peace.”
“There’s always outliers that would dispute that claim and prove some are malicious,” Erwin argued. “Every species has them.”
“I guess.”
“Has there been anything from the forensics?”
“Not really. Some fur was discovered in the wounds,” Moblit explained, tugging some gloves on and picking up tweezers to gesture to the lacerations. “Sasha is combing through dental records to determine if there’s a match but so far, we haven’t found one. Even the DNA from the fur showed that the culprit of the bites isn’t in the database.”
The discussion drawled on as the four employees huddled around the body. Levi stayed where he was, observing from a distance. Overall, the little socialization experiment was going well. Aside from his, admittedly, guarded behavior since leaving the car, he hadn’t once felt out of control of the situation where reaction would take over. It gave him a slight boost in confidence that he wasn’t so far gone to require a muzzle in public.
Small miracles.
As for his need to constantly observe the door, strain his hearing for threats in the hall, or subtly scan the three acquaintances in the room for signs of ill-intent, that was neither here nor there. Just a permanent coding in him demanding constant vigilance.
Glancing at the cadaver in the middle of the group, his gaze traced the severed throat and various bites over exposed flesh. All the excess blood and grime was washed off leaving the greyish skin unblemished. The wounds lacked any hinderance of leaky fluids, offering a clear view of layered muscle, yellowish ligaments, and even a shock of white, possibly bone. While viewing bodies was not anything new, Levi couldn’t say he’d witnessed one displayed so pristinely. In a way, it almost separated the corpse from the concept of having been a living being. Like a specimen in a textbook, detaching the viewer’s empathy from it. Or even like a slab of meat at a butcher shop, ready to be bundled in parchment paper.
Ok... that probably wasn’t a healthy comparison to make. Maybe he was a little further gone than he thought.
Forcing his gaze away from the body, he found Erwin’s own attention waiting in ambush, causing his breath to faulter in his chest. The people around them never paused in their conversation while their stare remained locked in place, but any hope to read what the reaper was thinking was moot. After some effort, Levi finally forced his eyes away, smothering the rising worry that Erwin had somehow read his own thoughts.
No. That was impossible. He may not know anything about reapers, but he knew mind reading was not real.
Thank the devils.
“Alright, so can we safely say that despite wolven evidence on the bodies, its not a wolven suspect. Or not only a wolven suspect?” Moblit asked.
Erwin sighed, having returned his attention to the others. “Unfortunately, no.”
“But why would wolvens send a letter like that to The Olympian, promoting their lesser status and degrading hybrids?”
Mike was the one to answer. “Because there’s a significant portion of the wolven community who are against the changes that are being pushed in legislative bills, regardless of the benefits. They see that having more rights means more responsibilities, giving them no choice but to conform. Many would be upset if adopting wolvens became illegal.”
“It won’t change overnight, obviously, but that doesn’t stop those wolvens from fighting against progression,” Erwin added.
Levi couldn’t help but sneer at that. “You’re saying there’s people out there that actually want to be a pet?”
Mike regarded him from across the table, “Some enjoy the lavish lifestyle. You never see low-income families having wolven companions because they wouldn’t qualify. Only those with stable incomes above a certain tax-bracket. And that’s appealing when the opposite is working 9-5’s or struggling to make ends meet. Living a life where your responsibilities are limited to being a companion, a nanny, servant, or family pet... It’s an easy situation to get used to.”
Nanaba turned to address Erwin. “Did you find anything out with the seals?”
“The one on Hannes is obviously done by a different hand as Eric is accounted for in a cell. The craftsmanship of it is neater with runes in the correct placement, but Levi agrees it’s not enough to be an active seal.”
All eyes drifted toward him, and Levi mentally cursed Erwin for dragging attention his way.
“You’re familiar with seals?” Nanaba asked.
With no amount of enthusiasm, Levi sighed, “Yes, but it’s a long story, so don’t ask.”
A small quirk of her lips was her answer as she turned to Erwin again. “The other victims were killed by people pretending to be wolven, with some variations that differed. This seems... well, still trying to keep attention on a wolven suspect, even if it’s through a different means of targeting the public perception.”
Erwin appeared deep in thought as he tried to find a link. “We can assume that between the staging of Death of Marat paired with the defamation article, whoever is behind it is aiming at a bigger picture. Possibly political influence. Has anyone spoke with Hannes’ writing companion for their blog?”
“We’re about to head over to speak with him shortly--Oh, right. Not sure if you’re aware,” her tone shriveled to something dry as her expression fell flat, “but there was an Agency brief this morning regarding some protocols moving forward. With the seals being publicized, some churches have started to speak about unholy beings on earth and witches among us, trying to summon the Devil. Then there’s the occult and pagan groups mocking them which hasn’t helped matters. I guess we need to try to dissuade anyone who asks about it and tell them that no, there’s not a loose wolven performing ritualistic sacrifices or witches.”
Erwin seemed thoroughly put off by the suggestion. “Fantastic. The media always has a way of dancing on bones to push their narrative.”
Mike gave a half-shrug, “Drama sells.”
The discussion continued on as they traded information about the case, catching Erwin up on someone named Jean and Eren, but Levi eventually zoned out. He wasn’t entirely sure how much help he was, particularly when he couldn’t find a place in the discussion. Not that he had a lot of information to share in the first place. Although, by the sounds of it, they had nothing solid to point in Tybur’s direction. Everything on the surface was speculation, and yet, knowing what Levi did of the vampire, he could see the connection that the evidence provided. The staging of the body based off a painting had Tybur’s touch all over it. His modus operandi.
The problem was proving it in a way to eliminate doubt—and preferably to do so without having to admit how Levi knew that. He couldn’t just specify that he’d witnessed Tybur kill subjects while painting the crime scene as it took place. Even if the evidence was literally hanging on the man’s wall for all to see, flaunting his power in broad daylight.
The coven leader was smart. Those victims of the macabre compositions were likely not in the system or even in missing persons reports. And while Levi could admit to witnessing the murder firsthand, his standing as the vampire’s prior pet wouldn’t hold up for shit. Not unless he really delved into his decades under Tybur, in which he may as well just lay on the table next to this Hannes corpse and let Erwin inject him now.
He was not as innocent as the reaper expected.
***
“Hey, Erwin. Can I speak with you a moment?”
The reaper halted before he reached the door, glancing at Mike from over Levi’s head.
“Sure,” his gaze dropped to Levi’s for a split second before bouncing back up, “that’s fine.”
Mike walked past them to head into the hallway, while Erwin reassured Levi that he’d make it quick.
Closing the door to the empty corridor, he waited for Mike to say whatever he needed to in private, knowing it had to do with Levi to some extent. The lycanthrope wouldn’t have asked for solitude from Nanaba or Moblit under normal circumstances.
“What’s on your mind, Mike?”
“I wanted to ask how things are at the house. Have you had any issues?”
Erwin arched a brow, “You’re making this sound like I have marital problems.”
Mike snorted. “Well, Hange did say you were taken and you never denied it.”
Erwin brow stayed raised, lips pursing tightly.
Clearing his throat, Mike turned serious. “I ask because I have some concerns.”
“About Levi.”
“Yes... How’s it been with him staying with you? Has he done anything that seemed... Unusual? Something that stuck out as worrisome?”
“No,” Erwin answered slowly, brows now knitting together. “Only the usual adjustments you’d expect from someone in his situation. Why?”
Sighing, Mike skipped his gaze to the door before answering in a quieter voice, “I can sense he’s not... Well, for lack of a better term, consistent. He’s throwing out mixed signals which isn’t setting well with me.”
“I’m going to need you to elaborate more here, mate. Levi seemed fine to me. If it’s the lack of participation, I’d like to point out listening is participating, and Levi is naturally stoic.”
“Yeah, well the reason nothing seems amiss to you is because body language isn’t as prevalent for reapers. To shifters it is, and Levi was all over the place.” Mike took a breath and eased his voice to a hushed tone again. “Firstly, his body was primed to move within a split-second, judging by how tense he was. Secondly, he placed himself to have a perfect view of all of us in the room and the exits. I have no doubt that if something were to startle him, he’d be reacting before any of us had a chance to understand what was going on.”
“Both of those are only indications of him being nervous in a new setting. This is the first time he’s been out to meet others freely since leaving the shelter. He’s allowed a grace period, Mike.”
“That’s not what I’m—ugh, sure. Right,” Mike readjusted his argument, “If those were the only things that were making me on edge, then fine. But the fact he refused to make eye contact with anyone and was watching our hands, tells me he was measuring us to attack.”
Erwin had to wonder if Mike was being overly critical or if it was him that was ignorant. He certainly didn’t have the level of information or experience with shifters to share Mike’s opinion on the matter.
“Again, to me, he’s only observing. I never once got the impression he’d openly attack any of you. Now, if Hange was here, then I’d be worried. Besides, what you’re suggesting seems contradictory. Shifters drop their gazes or avoid eye contact when they’re showing signs of submission. Why’s it upsetting you?”
“Look, Erwin. I get what you’re saying, but you need to try seeing it from my perspective. The fact he was standoffish, hanging at the back, avoiding direct eye contact while staring at our bodies suggests that it’s a tactic he’s used before--or his wiring is backwards in his brain. There’re both defensive and aggressive gestures clashing in his body language. If I had to guess, he’s keeping his gaze down to either hide his thoughts or encourage his target to drop their guard. Then he can strike when he has the opportunity.” His massive hand landed on Erwin’s shoulder. “Trust me on this. You need to keep an eye on him and not perceive the gestures incorrectly. His avoidance of eye contact is not submissive, mate. It’s not.”
Erwin sent a glance at the door as the weight of what Mike was implying began to settle.
Now that Mike brought it up, he had assumed Levi was simply being shy or attempting to shut down a conversation by seeming disinterested. But even during their discussions in the parking lot and the kitchen, Levi was quick to trigger, resulting in the grim meeting his gaze quite suddenly and spitting out poisonous insults. Even when Erwin stood close to him with Levi’s eyes downcasted, he always got the impression that a wrong step would end in injury before he could blink.
“Alright. I’ll keep what you said in mind,” he relented. “I still wouldn’t say he’s unstable, however.”
“Not if he’s doing it on purpose to gain the advantage. But if his instincts are buggered enough to be a natural reaction at this point, then that can still share the same adverse results. Truthfully, I’m not sure which option is worse. But promise me to keep that in mind and call us if anything comes up.”
Erwin nodded, not sure if it was something he could speak to Levi about or if he needed to let it play out as it had been. Aside from the minor waking up incident, and kitchen spat, they’ve been getting along well enough. Then again... this was only the second full day of Levi talking to him. Who knew if things would change if he kept the status quo.
***
The car ride had been silent after Erwin entered an address in the SatNav. Levi hadn’t challenged the invisible wall between them as they drove, despite his curiosity almost getting the better of him. He supposed there was no reason to ask whose place they were going to, seeing as he’d find out once he got there. But still, he was anxious.
The homeless man, the nurse, or the father. One of their fates had been decided based on the mere proximity of the reaper sent to collect their soul.
Was it fair? He couldn’t say. But he supposed measuring their worth based on his own morals would be less so, therefore he couldn’t judge Erwin on his method. If he was in the reaper’s position, who was to say he wouldn’t end up doing something similar. It was just a business transaction, right? Why get emotionally invested in each gleaning? So long as Erwin remained as unbiased as possible, he could move on with little regret from the interaction.
On that note, did reapers experience guilt during gleanings? Most of the lives that Levi had taken were due to self-defense or through the necessity of survival. He didn’t actively pencil it into his schedule with the intention of playing roulette with strangers’ souls via GPS. What a strange concept. And to think, it was simply a natural, innate reflex in reapers to kill to maintain order.
How did they know?
Aside from the SRC doing their algorithms, was it instinct they used before that? Picking off the weak, old, and young? Anyone who flirted with death too closely and couldn’t escape? Perhaps, it was similar to the migration of birds, sensing the changing of the seasons and acting on barometric pressure and biological knowledge.
All that aside, Levi couldn’t help but steal a glimpse at the driver from the corner of his eye. Erwin had been unusually quiet since leaving GSIS and now he held the stirring wheel clenched between both hands. Levi couldn’t decide if it was the gleaning that had him withdrawn or something the giant scruffy wolven had said to him.
Soon, the car pulled into a two-story condominium with one half of the home appearing vacant with the lights off.
“This won’t take me long,” Erwin finally spoke, gaze locked on the front door of the building that was currently occupied. “You can wait here, and I’ll be right out.”
Levi’s brows furrowed as he docked his full attention on Erwin. “I thought I was going in with you.”
“There isn’t anything special to see. I usually explain the situation to the subject and glean the soul shortly after. Trust me, you’re not missing much.”
Why was he so against Levi watching? He figured if it was a more intimate experience, he’d probably understand, but Erwin’s description sounded bland and methodical. Perhaps that’s how he viewed gleanings or maybe he was trying to dissuade Levi from going in.
“I guess, but we had a deal,” Levi countered, shrugging nonchalantly to soften his delivery from being accusing. “I suffer through your socializing exercise in exchange for seeing what you do.”
Erwin looked unmoved in every meaning of the word. “We never made a deal. We coordinated a trip to the city to accomplish both in a timely fashion.”
“Same thing... Give me some credit. I didn’t maul anyone today, so if anything, think of this as my reward.”
Levi winced after the words slipped out of his mouth. Was going to watch someone die really a reward? What poor, tasteless phrasing. He really mastered the technique of putting his foot in it. Maybe staying mute was a more diplomatic tactic to practice.
Unconvinced, Erwin sighed, tilting his head back against the seat. “Levi, I’d rather you just—”
“What? You don’t trust me?”
Erwin’s head snapped to the grim who held his gaze, prior embarrassment gone. “What?”
“Do you not trust me?”
“It’s not about trust.”
“So, you’re not trying to get me to stay because you think I’ll kill the person first?"
“No,” Erwin’s voice hitched as if affronted. “That’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?”
Another sigh escaped the reaper as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Levi. You want to watch that badly?”
“I’m just curious.”
Erwin laughed. It was a brief noise, dry and reluctant, but Levi wondered what it all meant. What had Erwin so on edge?
“I don’t think you understand what a gleaning is.”
“I won’t know unless I see, right? And if I’m sticking around for these stupid WMC trainings and to help with the case, won’t I be exposed to it eventually?”
“Not exactly,” Erwin muttered petulantly. “You could just stay home.”
Levi's eyes narrowed as he shifted in the seat with his elbow on the center consol. “Tch. I think you need to get something straight before we go any further. If you want my help with Tybur, this ‘façade’ as you claim it to be, is only that. A ruse. I’m not your pet, Smith. And I sure as shit won’t tolerate being treated as one, being told to stay in the car or the house won't fly.”
Erwin’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t appear angry at Levi. If anything, flustered at being called out as he simmered in thought. Alternatively, Levi wasn’t sure where his spark of boldness came from. Well, frustration. That was the answer. But he noticed there was a lag time before the self-preservation snuck up, reminding him to not piss the reaper off and be punished.
“You’re right. My apologies. I hadn’t intended to imply you were a pet, Levi, but if you’re that adamant about seeing this, then very well. However, there’s going to be some rules before we go in.” He shifted in the seat, mirroring Levi and lifting a finger as he spoke. “Firstly, do not, under any circumstances, interfere with my work. Even if you do not agree with it or who was chosen, understand?”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Good. Secondly, if the subject speaks to you, do not respond. The point is to make the process as stress-free as possible, so the soul passes without consequence. If they’re clinging to life and resisting before I glean them, the soul can split, and they will never find peace.”
... Never?
Levi nodded, feeling saliva gather on his tongue at the new revelation. He hadn’t known that.
“Thirdly, make sure to stay at a distance while I’m with them. Any questions you have will be answered when we’re finished.”
“Alright.”
Erwin stared at him a moment more before sighing. Again. His lungs were getting quite the workout talking with Levi.
“Alright,” the reaper echoed. “Let’s go.”
They got out of the car and started up the path to the occupied condo, passing a soft blue sedan in the driveway. Upon reaching the door, they halted, and for some reason, Levi had anticipated the reaper to knock on the door or ring the bell. What he hadn’t expected was the air around them to shimmer, playing tricks with the glow of the outdoor lamp and evening darkness, until the suit and shock of honeyed hair was draped beneath a lengthy cloak.
Erwin glanced over his shoulder at Levi, possibly to read his reaction, but he was too busy appraising the attire to notice.
The entire image of the transformed reaper was ethereal, like the birth of the night sky just after sunset with indigo woven fabric. Erwin’s face was not completely shrouded like myths, but there was a partial shadowy veil that dulled some of his descriptive features, glossing over the high cheek bones and smile lines. And the reaper’s eyes... They seemed to reflect off a light source only known to them. A shimmer of blue reflecting through the cover of his hood.
“Remember the rules.”
Levi nodded, unable to find his voice.
Facing the house, Erwin lifted his hand and without touching the knob, the door opened. Already, Levi was gathering questions as he followed inside, shutting the door silently and feeling like a thief breaking in. Which, if anything, he was merely the accomplice. It was Erwin doing the breaking and entering.
In a blink, Erwin’s fingers splayed open by his side and a gust of wind slid through the room from nowhere. Just as his cloak, the scythe appeared from nothing, causing Levi to stiffen upon seeing the intimidating weapon up close. The thing was huge, the blade was nearly longer than Levi’s torso with an elk antler shed tied at the base, looking formidable in its curvature.
There was noise coming from the other side of the house on the first floor, somewhere behind the kitchen. Erwin wasted no time toddling to the source where music played from a Bluetooth speaker on the counter. The oven was halfway through cooking something that had 8 minutes left on the timer, emitting an aroma of savory spices that had Levi’s stomach clenching.
As he trailed behind Erwin, taking in the pictures and bohemian décor, he quickly concluded which of the three subjects they were about to greet. The knot in his chest was unexpected as he thought of the nurse, in her early 30’s with potential to save lives being visited by them. But he quickly shut down those thoughts, remembering it was not his place to judge or interfere. No answer was the right one, as Erwin said.
The kitchen led to a hallway which had a pantry, dining room, and just at the back was a laundry area. Positioned by the dining table, the woman was singing along with the catchy tune while ironing clothes on the collapsable board. Her back was to them, blissfully unaware, until she grabbed a hanger off the chair and hung up the shirt. Then, as she turned, a startled scream left her as the garment fell to the floor.
“Please, do not be alarmed, Ms. Herrera...”
Levi blinked, jerking his attention onto Erwin’s back.
The man’s voice had changed, as if no longer tethered to a corporeal form. It was deep and resonating, hinting that it could boom naturally over a loud stadium if he projected. The tone--while familiar to Levi’s ears--also seemed unknown to him as he swore there were numerous languages pleated over one another.
Was this a reaper’s true form? The atmosphere in the room felt charged with energy and he barely paid attention to what Erwin was discussing with the tearful nurse.
“This—this isn’t a joke, is it? You’re really here to-to... kill me,” her voice was meek, trembling, and eyes wet with unshed tears gathering on her lash line.
“Yes. Your time has come to its completion.”
“Oh, god,” she hiccupped, manicured hand covering her mouth. “Oh, god... I—just. Oh...”
Erwin stepped closer as her tears began to stream down her face. “Your apprehension is understandable, but Death is not something to fear. It is merely a threshold you are passing over, entering into eternal peace.”
“Eternal peace... So, is there heaven after death? Will I go to heaven?” she asked with all the hope she could muster when faced with the end.
“That is not for me to say. Judgement passes beyond this realm, I’m merely assisting you to reach it.”
A heartbreaking laugh erupted from her throat. “Did I do something to deserve this? I still had so much I wanted to do. Or is it truly random drawings from SRC? Can you tell me that, at least?”
“It’s as random as it can be. They do not choose subjects based on transgressions.”
The nurse sniffled, wiping at her tears. “Will--... will it hurt?”
“So long as you don’t resist the decision, it will be swift and painless. If you try to cling to life, you’ll find agony and no changes to the result. If you fight too much, you’ll sabotage yourself for reaching the afterlife, whatever awaits you.”
Levi listened quietly, wondering if Erwin had any knowledge of what lay beyond death. Reapers may send souls to the Netherworld, like hellhounds on assignments, but that didn’t mean their understanding extended to it. Levi had only been to the Infernal region once with his uncle when he was young, and it certainly wasn’t like many mortals and Supras were expecting.
He wondered how Erwin would feel to learn of the grey and white landscape, dark sky and bleak stone buildings. The Netherworld was both a hellish terrain and ethereal paradise, depending on where the soul ended up. A Purgatory of sorts. For living beings like hellhounds and demons, it was just another world, cramped as if living beneath the ceiling of an underground cave or perpetually gloomy world with too many unmarked territories. But it certainly wasn’t a direct link to the heavens that various religions painted it to be, whether eternal fulfillment with a God, or paradise of pleasure.
If the woman was lucky, her soul’s journey would lead her to the Asphodel Meadows where she would wait for the expedition to a variance of what one could consider as heaven. But trekking through the brutal landscape was not for the weak and many beasts roamed the rolling plains. It was probably for the best if such descriptions were left to the imagination of mortals.
“Can I call my mother?”
“No.”
The woman seemed to know that answer was coming, but the disheartened finality still struck Levi. He couldn’t imagine being in her position and told that he could not say goodbye to his mum. If anything, he wouldn’t be as accepting of the answer as the nurse was.
“Do I have to look at you when you... do it?”
“No,” Erwin’s voice was gentler. “If you wish to look elsewhere, I can accommodate that.”
The nurse nodded, glancing at the ironing board as her fingers played with the protective fabric. She then turned momentarily towards Levi, taking in his oversized clothes that had him shifting under her attention with a hint of humility. It felt like he was severely underdressed for an important event, disrespectful in his attire and unprofessional. Not that he had any expectations to strive for, being only a witness to her passing. But feeling like he was wearing a clown suit to a funeral wasn't what he intended.
After she had a moment to gather her composure, she silently walked to a narrow console table with framed photos decorated across the runner. Picking one up, she caressed the glass as a fresh stream of tears dripped from her cheeks, drinking in a memory or the face of a loved one.
Erwin didn’t say anything, drifting behind her without a sound. The energy of the room suddenly fluctuated, sensing the draw of power. Levi felt his heart hammer in his chest as he moved to the other side of the space, away from the woman and reaper until he was next to the ironing board, far from striking distance or her view.
The scythe elevated over her figure with ceremonial elegance before Erwin swung diagonally across her body.
A flash of white burst across Levi’s sensitive vision, almost to the point of being painful. Even behind his clenched eyelids there was a ripple of splotches that hung about annoyingly. He lifted his hand to block the brightest part of it, expecting it to be over just as fast as it started, when something threaded in the back of his hair and shoved his face into the tabletop.
A different explosion of white disoriented him from the impact as pain bloomed from his temple. Blindly, he swung his arm backwards toward the person pinning him in place only for an iron grip to wrench his wrist against his spine, cracking bone in the process. A pin prick into his neck, followed by the pressure of foreign substance building beneath his skin, turned Levi’s blood to ice. Then came the floral and iron scent that only belonged to one type of creature:
Vampire.
Clawed fingers scratched at his scalp, yanking his head back to slip a metal contraption over his lower face, and he let out a throaty growl.
“Levi!”
A burst of what he assumed was wind passed overhead, forcing the vampire to detach from his back as the steel muzzle clattered onto the table. Levi pushed off the furniture, sensing that the blocker was doing its job, rushing through his system faster with his elevated heartrate. Shifting was not going to be an option, so he grabbed the closest item within reach--the iron.
Yanking the cord from wall, he spun to face the vampire, holding the iron like a knuckle duster. Instead of one vampire, there were three, two of which were rushing Erwin to hold him off. The remaining opponent tossed the empty syringe behind her as she crouched into a low position.
Her fine slim-line, bespoke red dress with heels were a far cry from assassin or kidnapper, but Levi knew prestigious coven members cared little to dress down for occasions. Despite the sarcastic thought that he should feel insulted by her attire, he knew the outfit would do little to hinder her skill. The blonde hair was already disheveled from its groomed hold, makeup smudged around bared fangs. High society gone ballistic with all intentions of subduing the Grim.
With a snarl, she launched at Levi with incredible speed, swinging her taloned nails to catch across his side. Levi hitched to his left and rotated the iron to meet her next strike in midair, blocking the upward strike towards his face. Her hand connected with the heated steel, screeching in agony as the putrid scent of burnt flesh clogged his nose. In retaliation, she kicked his knee as soon as he tried to crowd her, slowing him down as she adjusted her attack.
He could feel the injection already inhibiting his reflexes, enlarging the gap between their species’ natural speed. Vampires were always a pain in the ass by how lightning quick their movements were, and his sensitive vision was still reeling from the near blinding light of the gleaning.
When she recovered from the surprise of the burn, the vampire rushed him again, going for a full sweep to bring the fight to the ground. Not interested in making it easy, Levi skipped his lead leg out of the way, bracing his other behind him to keep his center of gravity low while striking forward with the iron’s point. It jammed into her clavicle, breaking skin and jarring bone, but not enough to lacerate deeply. Casting her right arm out into a haymaker, he returned to a defensive posture, using the flat metal to block her forearm mid swing, branding fabric to blistering flesh.
Spitting out vile curses at him, he didn’t allow her time to recover, thumb slamming on the button as a cloud of pressurized hissing steam sprayed into her face. She stumbled backwards, snapping a heel in the process but managed to stay on her feet. A palm covered her injured eye that leaked runny make-up down her cheek, but having half her vision wasn’t enough to see the cord whipping in her direction.
It connected with a snap across her other cheek, leaving a welt over her fair skin. Then Levi jabbed the iron in quick succession into her throat, followed by a backhanded swing. The vampire collapsed onto the table where he mounted behind her, stringing the cord around her throat and yanking it tight.
The woman growled and whirled backwards with one arm while her other hand attempted to pry the cord from her neck. Even as her nails snared into his hip, burrowing and tearing away at his flesh, Levi gritted his teeth and tugged harder. Desperately, her legs continued to kick out between his, scrapping on the floor and knocking into a dining chair until she eventually fell limp.
Breathing heavy, Levi didn’t let go of the iron or cord, not willing to take a chance on mistaking it for unconsciousness. Instead, he glanced around the disturbed room, seeing the empty husk of the nurse’s body beside a fallen picture frame and a jagged crack at the end of the table from a massive blade. In the kitchen or living room, there was another flash of white followed shortly by glass shattering. A beat later, Erwin jogged into the dining room, hair loose from his coiffed hold and the hood of his cloak down. His scythe was still in his hand with the blade satiated with blood before he dispersed it into nothing.
“Are you alright?”
Looking at the lifeless woman beneath him, he finally released the iron, feeling the indents of the cord along his palms. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Erwin hastily came around the table, checking the pulse of the vampire after Levi stepped away. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, spurred on by the sight of the muzzle still lying on the tabletop and thinking how close he was to being fully detained.
“She’s dead.”
“I’d hope so,” Levi muttered, half-anticipating Erwin’s chiding.
But it never came as the reaper nodded, retracting his hand from her neck.
“What happened to the others?”
“Gleaned one. The other got away. Do you know who they are? Do you recognize them?”
Levi shook his head, but stopped as he recalled one of the men that attacked the reaper. “I think, one might be a handler from Tybur's coven. A regular who helped move wolvens to fights.”
“Do you happen to know his name?”
“No. Never bothered to learn about any of them. Tybur was the only one I cared about.”
Erwin didn’t say anything as he scanned Levi, meanwhile the cloak disappeared from his figure to reveal the disarrayed suit. It took only a moment until his eyes locked on the bloody splotches staining Levi’s shredded hoody for his gaze to harden. “You’re hurt, Levi.”
The grim waved it off, despite putting pressure against the injury. “It’s fine. Just a scratch—”
His legs wobbled suddenly, forcing him to brace his free hand onto the table to stay upright. A hot jolt of pain ignited in his wrist from the vampire, emitting a hiss from him. Swiftly, Erwin appeared at his side, wrapping an arm around his torso to keep him steady, while staying mindful of the injury.
“Oi—what’re you doing—”
“Helping you, what else? You’re obviously not fine.”
“Tch, it’s just the injection. Now get off.”
Erwin stiffened against him, fingers pressing tighter in his side as he pinned a critical stare at Levi. Fuck, the bastard seemed much taller when attached to him like that.
“What injection?” he demanded, sounding too calm despite the gleaning and ambush. “Do we need to get you to the hospital?”
“No.” Levi tried to pull away from Erwin, but between his massive arm encompassing him and the Grim’s compromised balance, it did little good. “No, it was just a blocker they used. I’d recognize its effects anywhere.”
“A blocker?”
For fuck’s sake, did the reaper know nothing?
Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly explained—while still being half-held by Erwin, “Yeah, Tybur used it often to prevent shifting whenever he wanted to handle me. Between that and the muzzle, there was little I could do to hurt him during his little dog and pony shows.”
Erwin didn’t move for what seemed like eternity, lost in thought as he chewed over Levi’s explanation. Whatever was going on in his big head was too difficult to decipher behind his stoicism, and it took all of Levi’s concentration to not squirm in his hold. Or squirm more than he already was, trying to twist free. The longer they stood there, the more he felt heat creeping up his neck as the firm details of the man’s bicep against his back made itself known, and the sweet, yet subtle cologne under the coppery scent of blood. It didn’t help any that his legs were getting weaker the longer they stayed there.
“Are you alright, Levi?”
The drenched sincerity of the question felt like it held too many meanings at once, catching him off guard.
“Yeah,” he answered as he paused it trying to push away. “I told you, it’s just a scratch.”
“I’m referring to more than your physical injury.” Erwin's free hand came up to brush a stray bang from Levi's forehead, sticky with blood from being smashed in the wood. “Not only were you attacked, but you appear to be correct in your assumption that Tybur would come after you again.”
Oh. Right. Well, now that Erwin brought that up, he realized just what that meant for him.
Tybur knew, to some extent, that he was with Erwin. Enough to have them followed to a gleaning assignment. Where that information leak stemmed from was the question, and judging by the somewhat distant, cold gaze on the reaper, it seemed he was wondering the same thing.
“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital, Levi?"
“Yeah. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”
“Then let’s get you to the couch for a bit.”
“I can manage on my own,” Levi protested as Erwin guided him around the table, half-holding him up. “Oi—don’t ignore me, you b—”
“It’s either I assist you to the chair, or I carry you.” Erwin shot Levi a challenging look. “I’ll leave that decision in your hands.”
Growling, Levi diverted his gaze, refusing to respond. He could feel the smugness oozing from Erwin as he accepted the answer—or lack of—and continued dragging him into the living room. With more care than Levi thought necessary, he set the grim down in the cushions, away from the expanding puddle of blood leaking from the vampire’s corpse on the floor.
“Is this the man you recognized?” Erwin asked, standing over Levi.
“No. I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
“Hmm.”
Sinking into the back of the couch, Levi blew out a huff of air as he felt his adrenaline begin to fade. His side continued to drain, and he cringed at the thought of it staining the woman’s couch. Not that she would be needing it any longer.
Erwin's hoody was probably ruined, though. Oops.
Distractedly, he glanced towards the dining room, where only the edge of the narrow table was visible, along with the back of the nurse’s head and outstretched hand. There was no visible blood spreading across the floors like the vampire across from him, which seemed odd. With the power behind Erwin’s swing, it’d be a surprise that the woman wasn’t cut in half. In fact, the dining room wall was oddly clear of viscera or other fluids now that he thought about it.
“Why isn’t she bleeding?”
“Hmm?” Erwin refocused on him, before following his nod toward the back of the house. “Oh. A gleaning only extracts the soul when the blade passes through.”
Levi’s brows pinched together as he wordlessly dropped his gaze to the very much mutilated vampire near the television.
Erwin smirked, despite the serious situation. “I didn’t use the scythe the same as I did for her. It takes energy for us to extract souls, turning our scythes into a non-corporeal entity to only affect the spirit. When we don’t imbibe our own souls into the swings, the blade is only that: a weapon. The flash happens regardless when it connects to the soul.”
Ah. That made a bit more sense.
“So, she didn’t feel pain?”
“No. She passed on easily, without resistance.”
Levi found a modicum of relief in that. Even though she was a stranger, never having spoken a single word to him, he sympathized with her. Hopefully, a malevolent demon wouldn’t cross her soul’s path in the Netherworld.
“I have to make some calls. You sure you’ll be alright?”
Levi gestured to the kitchen where a burning smell was coming from. “Something’s in the oven. It should probably be pulled out.”
“Normally, we wouldn’t bother with it, but I suppose these are unique circumstances.”
Erwin drifted with a lingering gracefulness into the kitchen, turning the oven off and pulling out the tray of roasting chicken.
“You wouldn’t?” Levi inquired, “Why? The house could burn down.”
“Because,” Erwin explained, setting the tray on a mat, “if she died at home alone under normal circumstances, no one else would be here to pull the food out. Natural causes of death include accidents and if casualties resulted after one person’s passing, mimicking it only aids in the balance.”
“Doesn’t that mess up your numbers or whatever if other people ended up dying?”
“It gets added into the statistics.”
Levi waited for further explanation, but Erwin was already holding his phone up to his ear, moving on from the discussion. Scowling, he let the questions die, closing his eyes instead as a wave of dizziness swirled in his skull.
“Hello, Nanaba,” Erwin greeted after the other line picked up. “Are you and Mike still at work?... Ah, well I can call someone else.”
Chatter on the other end could barely be made out, leaving the Grim's only option to listening to Erwin’s side of the discussion.
“Alright, if you’re sure... I don’t recall if I mentioned it earlier today, but I had a gleaning assignment... Yes, the usual... No. I’m letting you know there were casualties. Not family. Three vampires were here and attacked, but there’s only two bodies needing picked up for ID and processed... I'm afraid not. They were after Levi.”
Upon hearing his name, he opened his eyes to see Erwin was already watching him from the kitchen. The reaper held his gaze for a moment more before putting the phone on speaker and turning off the music still playing on the counter.
“... call medical to the scene?" came the female voice that Levi recognized as Nanaba.
Erwin opened the refrigerator, “He said it’s not necessary. It may be better to take care of his injury at the house. Less exposure.”
“Yeah, that's a good point. We’re already going to need to keep this quiet with Levi’s unregistered status. If the Registry or WMC hears about the attack, there’ll be a full investigation into Levi and you to see what brought it on. It may be best to make it sound like the vampires were defending the subject instead.”
“I agree. I was planning on using that as the explanation.”
Levi closed his eyes as a rush of nausea wracked through him. “Is that normal or something?" he asked. "That someone would interfere with a gleaning?”
“Yes,” Erwin answered. Levi could hear him moving closer, purposefully making noise to not startle him. “Usually, family or friends will try to stop it which is unfortunate. In that case, reapers are in their right to glean them as well if they won’t stay out of the way. Here.”
Cracking his eyes open, he saw a bottle of water being held out to him. After accepting it, Erwin returned to the phone to finish his discussion with Nanaba while Levi stared at the bottle. It seemed... unexpected that Erwin would help himself to the nurse’s things, but he supposed no one else was going to use it now. Casting a glance at the woman, he wondered what murderers would think of reapers if they knew how little they cared for leaving evidence behind. It was basically a free pass to do whatever they wanted after collecting a soul; touching items, taking things, no worries of consequence or being arrested. Just a normal day.
So strange.
When Erwin came back to the living room, he sank into the seat beside Levi--close but not touching--while he handed the grim a damp rag for his temple. Had Levi not been so drowsy, he likely would have said something to get the man to move over, but instead, he accepted the towel and pressed it to his hairline.
“Nana said she’s calling Nile and Marie to come deal with the situation. While I trust them to handle it, I’d rather us stick with the story the vampires were Ms. Herrera's friends who interrupted.”
“Why did you even report it to begin with? If you’re allowed to glean them, then I don’t understand why it’s a big deal.”
“The Registry keeps track of Supras, above all else. If someone reports the two vampires missing, then it’d be worse if it was traced back to me and I never reported it myself. Not to mention that there’s traces of my soul energy on the bodies that the Registry is within their means of testing. Every reaper’s energy is unique, like fingerprints. Unless we hid the bodies for a few days until the traces wore off, then they’d know it was myself that killed them.”
“I’m guessing using your scythe transfers the energy to the body.”
“Yes, very much like gunpowder residue. It’s not visible because the particles are so small, but it’s there and eventually fades. You can thank the chemical engineer in the early 2000’s for that device. Broke it down to a science using electromagnetic instruments to measure it in microTesla.”
Levi blinked, feeling the sluggish movement of the simple gesture. The blocker was inhibiting his attentiveness a bit harder than normal. Was he going to pass out? Or just linger in this half-awake limbo?
“I’m impressed with your combat skills, Levi. I hadn’t pinned you for having exceptional melee experience.”
He shrugged, feeling his eyes droop. His fingers spun the plastic bottle vacantly in his lap as he realized how easy the conversation was flowing. He wouldn’t put it past Erwin to be taking advantage of the drug loosening his tongue and keeping him docile, not that he had the energy to care either. “I’ve been familiar with all sorts of weapons since I was a kid. Grims are more myth than anything and we prefer to keep it that way, so shifting isn't always an option. In the pits, they sometimes would make us fight in our human form.”
Erwin absorbed the information patiently. “Wherever you learned it, your form is top shape. I’ll admit, I was astonished to see you best a vampire with an iron. It was... dare I say, remarkable.”
Levi chuffed, feeling the corner of his lips quirk up at the flattery. The motion seemed foreign on his face, though he didn't care for the heat creeping up the back of his neck from Erwin's attention.
“You say some strange things. Anyone ever tell you that?” he asked, softer than he intended. In the corner of his eye, he saw how intently Erwin was staring at him, making him grateful he was sitting down.
“Once or twice,” Erwin took the rag from Levi’s hand, lifting it to dab at his temple along a spot he missed. “But that doesn’t make it less true.”
Deciding he was far too dizzy to deal with the reaper, Levi closed his eyes despite the gentle swipes across his forehead or threading of fingers through his bangs.
At some point, he must have drifted off because voices drew him back to consciousness from the front door. Two people in GSIS attire were talking to Erwin as he directed them through the house to the bodies. What drew Levi’s attention, quite abruptly, was upon them seeing the red-dressed vampire on the table, the female agent snared Erwin into a quick hug, murmuring how she was glad he wasn’t hurt. The man with scruffy hair and thin stubble seemed thoroughly annoyed at the gesture, rolling his eyes as he pulled out a set of gloves.
From what Levi could tell, the woman was a friend of Erwin's, but he couldn’t distinguish to what extent. Perhaps they were just close as siblings were, however, judging by the fact it irked the other man, Levi guessed the woman didn’t realize how overly friendly she was acting. It certainly seemed that there was more to that then close friendship, almost unprofessional given they were in the middle of a crime scene.
I'm too fucking tired for this.
It didn’t help Levi’s opinion on the matter when the woman’s delaying stare continued to drift towards his direction, as if she too was trying to piece the anomaly together of Levi's presence. She was clearly trying to understand something but not with the two dead leeches they were called to deal with. Shouldn't they be a bigger concern for her than the guy on the couch?
“Are you ready to head back? We need to treat your injury still,” Erwin asked, holding out a hand to help Levi up when he finally detached from the female reaper.
Sending one last glance at the two agents, Levi nodded, accepting the man’s hand without complaint.
Getting situated in the car and leaving the scene went by in a blur. Erwin mentioned something about getting food on the way to the cabin, but Levi didn’t answer, staring out the window until he eventually passed out in the seat.
***
Erwin continued to steal worried glances at Levi, a frown etching across his face. Inky locks were smooshed against the window, leaving a bloody residue from his still oozing head injury. Turning on the seat warmers and air, he hoped it’d combat the chill that shook through Levi.
There was a smidge of doubt that he made a mistake in taking Levi home. While the shifter seemed confident of the side-effects from the blocker, that didn’t mean it hadn’t been altered to some extent. Experimenting based on past knowledge seemed risky, but having medical staff crowd Levi seemed downright negligent. They were already going to be under scrutiny if someone questioned the vampires' presence at the nurse's home, not to mention with Levi's background WMC were keeping them on their tight radar. Having the grim lose his temper with EMT's was not a problem they needed to add to the list.
The screen of the stereo lit up as a voice through the speakers reported Shadis was calling. Erwin withheld a sigh as he turned down the dial, checking to make sure Levi was still asleep before answering the call.
“Smith. Nile just informed me of what happened. Were you hurt?”
“No, I’m perfectly fine. That being said, I do have a request that you submit my updated contract status to SRC,” he said with some ire slipping through. "It was a surprise when I saw I was showing active for gleaning assignments, and you know I can't deny it once I receive it."
“Ah, yes. I apologize for that. It slipped my mind, but I’ll send it up first thing in the morning.”
“Just don’t forget. I’d rather avoid another mishap when spending the daylight hours working on the case for you.”
“Yeah, I got it. It’ll be handled, Smith. But I called because I wanted to get the details of this assignment of yours straight,” Shadis shifted the subject with little finesse. “You went to a subject's house that was drawn from SRC, and then her companions—vampires—attacked you?”
“Yes, that’s what Nile should’ve reported.”
“He did, but I wanted to hear it from you. Why did they not back down? I assume you informed them it was official business.”
“I did, Shadis," Erwin said with clear annoyance, "I understand it’s been a while since you’ve been on a gleaning assignment, but you know how people get when confronted with death. They might understand the legal concepts on paper, but facing it is an entirely different circumstance. Clearly, they didn’t care.”
Shadis grumbled on the other line. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. If anyone asks, I’ll relay the message. Also, go ahead and take the next day or two off, unless you have something already planned for the case. If you can’t delegate it, take care of it and then you can enjoy some R&R. You can pick back up with the team in a couple of days.”
That worked out well for Erwin. While he wanted to aid his companions on the case--especially with Levi's assistance--, he still needed to work on finding a rehab school for them. Not to mention trying to find a loophole. He wondered if Hange had made any progress on that front.
“Sure thing. I’ll keep you updated.”
After the call ended, Erwin continued the drive quietly in thought. He realized, impassively, that his intentions to simply have Levi assist him with Tyber was shaping to be a problematic endeavor. The grim attracted trouble like flies to the sweet maw of a carnivorous plant. What Erwin was questioning now was his own role in that.
Despite the nettlesome complications he was saddled with by just keeping their necks off the line, Erwin was not yet deterred from his ambitions. If anything, he was drawn further and further into seeing this through; both keeping Levi free and safe, while finding any way to prove Tybur's guilt.
It certainly didn't help that he was becoming--rather quickly--emotionally invested in Levi beyond where safety was concerned. When he turned around after gleaning the soul to find three vampires trying to subdue him, a sharp jolt of fear ran through his core like touching an exposed wire. That was no simple feat. Fear was a stranger to him in most instances and to have such a visceral reaction of his heart skipping was unexpected.
Pulling his attention from the dark road and beaming headlights, Erwin took in the smoothed lines of Levi's brows, the laxed lips and dark lashes resting over the plains of his cheeks, all beneath the blue glow of the dash.
When Erwin had expressed his awe in seeing the results of Levi's fight, despite hampered by the injection and fighting a creature far faster than him, Levi had found amusement in the compliments. It was a small, genuine expression that very nearly reached his eyes, and Erwin had to refrain from leaning closer to touch Levi’s lips where they turned up at the corners--just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. The level of investment he was applying probably should be worrisome to the reaper, but he couldn't bring himself to ponder on it.
Instead, he ironically wondered if that made his role the allured fly drawn to the hungry plant, or if he was actually the gardener, nurturing and cultivating him?
Notes:
Another delayed upload, but I'll try to get back on schedule!
Next two chapters will be gruesome and disturbing, so that's the first warning now. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this one.
Thank you for reading, the kudos, and comments! I appreciate hearing your thoughts and to know my overthinking doubts are just that! I hope everyone is doing well and until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 17: When the Moth Devours the Flame
Notes:
TW in end notes--there's a few!
This is Part II of Levi's past and is one of —if not THE--darkest chapter in the fic. Not sure if it should have a bit of Dead Dove tags for a few instances, but this is a warning for the potential of it. Um. And this is not a gentle recap for Levi. 🫣 You've been warned.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
“Who holds the devil, let him hold him well,
He hardly will be caught a second time.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: Part 1
_____________________________________________
There was something to be said about timing.
For some years, Levi wasn’t entirely sure what made the vampire community decide to pave the way in bridging the discord between humans and supranaturals. They were a reclusive bunch in the younger centuries, when humans were more spaced out and easier to feed on. As mortal populations grew and encroached on the obscure supra community, they decided to announce their existence and open lines of concessions.
Supposedly, it began during a separate movement known as the Revolutions of 1848, which was brought on by lower and middle-class humans suffering with food shortages and poor working conditions. The uprisings across Europe failed to achieve the humans’ goals due to division amongst the organizers thus resulted in a lack of allies and support for the cause. Not to mention, the distressing call for livelihood change was overshadowed by the vampire monarchy of the time, stepping into public eye to parlay negotiations of power.
If humans continued to neglect their own, it affected the vampires’ food supply. Moreover, there was the benefit of gaining a foothold in world powers during a strenuous time between nations and classes. Two birds, one stone.
After bringing in sovereigns of other Supra species to the table, the Foedus Aequum of 1848 was soon drafted and signed.
As was expected of abrupt changes--and the challenges to belief systems in place--humans no longer hid behind stakes and holy water but rather fought back with repeating firearms and hand grenades. After his unfortunate separation from his uncle and cousin, Levi was short on resources and even shorter on allies. It didn’t matter that the decades and laws reformed when the hatred and greedy enemies did not.
Surviving on his own was a hard lesson to adapt to. The skills of self-defense and thievery from Kenny were the foundation of what Levi had to build upon and ultimately the sole reason for getting himself out of a few tight spots. For a stretch of time, he was forced to stay in his Grim form, living off the land like a wild beast, just to survive the winter.
It wasn’t all bad. He was a quick learner after all.
Traveling through the European countries was easily enough and by the second year of his separation, he had given up on finding Kenny or Mikasa. There was a chance to cross paths in the future if they were safe and well, but tracking them when Kenny’s movements were done on a whim was impossible. It was a wonder how the bounty hunters managed to find them, though he supposed staying stagnant in the shed as they had, did them little favors.
It wasn’t long after when other problems arose for Levi. Discord amongst humans was spreading like the plague across nations. Eventually, friction had escalated so spectacularly, it became a worldwide conflict, creating many obstacles for Levi to navigate and avoid. The last thing he wanted was to stumble onto a battlefield with mortars and tanks exchanging munitions, or stay in a town that was the target of air raids.
More wars and laws were passed. The second and third Industrial Revolution advanced society in leaps toward the future with chemicals, automobiles, telephones, and steel. Airplanes and trains, that were no longer reliant on coal, made it faster to get from one place to another, but Levi’s abilities were limited to ground transportation. With societies advancement came higher regulations for document control, which Levi –-like many Supras—lacked if they came from squaller upbringings.
Well, that and there weren’t considerations in place for the fabled Hellhounds, therefore Levi was limited in the benefits of most advancement, unless he found someone to forge documents.
That was how he met Furlan Church.
Levi had come across an ambitious gang called the Warren Boys in South London when he met the articulate teen. The human was willing to help Levi out with his request, much to Furlan’s co-conspirators’ dissent, which led to Levi overhearing their plans to eradicate the teenager from their group. Permanently. While the grim made no habit of interfering in matters that didn’t concern him, he was appreciative of Furlan’s willingness to assist in forging papers for little cost. A potential ally who had an honest face was something Levi was sorely lacking in; thus, he made an exception.
Before the gang could succeed in turning on their own, Levi had gotten Furlan away safely with little casualties to account for. A pretty good accomplishment, if he said so himself.
Furlan was baffled that the group would actively betray him; despite knowing he was the source of their ire more times than not. But killing their own member seemed extreme. Levi didn’t have much to supply on the matter, having limited experience of good and bad with humans himself lately. What mattered was Furlan holding up his end of the bargain and finding a place to stay so Levi could reach out when needed.
That went over like a lead balloon.
Furlan--Levi came to find out--was a tenacious asshole. He refused Levi’s directions at every turn when the grim tried to set him up somewhere, determined to go where Levi traveled. It was a forced companionship that irked Levi to no end, until one day, he simply accepted it.
Having someone around, as cunning and boisterous as Furlan, had become a refreshing change of pace. He had someone to converse with regularly. To tease and create inside jokes with, and—more importantly--an extra set of eyes to watch his back. The companionship grew into a tight friendship, even after learning of Levi’s true nature, and it was a few years later when the duo accidentally turned into three.
When things had settled down between their adventures, Levi decided to pay his mother’s grave a visit. It wasn’t the first trip back to Ireland he made since leaving with Kenny, but he didn’t return as often as he wished. Furlan was all too eager to see Levi’s first home and even forged their tickets for the ferry overnight.
They were passing through a small village outside of his hometown when they stopped to grab some food. After having a hearty lunch, they meandered outside to loiter in the alley, enjoying a smoke before they continued their drive. The crashing of bins from the pub’s rear door drew their attention to one of the kitchen staff shouting at a young girl on the ground. It was difficult to make out the full transgressions against the teen through the man’s thick accent as another staff member came out, equally livid.
Furlan and Levi exchanged glances, each picking out the threat tucked within the shouting against the orphan stealing food—speaking of feeding her to the local wolven pack for their next visit.
Now, to this day, Levi wasn’t sure what made him interrupt the dispute. Keeping to himself meant less exposure and unwanted attention. There wasn’t anything for him to gain by stepping in as there was with Furlan. Perhaps he simply viewed the human girl as Irish kin, or maybe the bullying hit a little too close to his own past. Whatever it was, Levi pushed off the wall, handed the cigarette to Furlan and planted himself firmly between the two parties.
“Oi, I doubt she’s worth you getting so worked up over. Why don’t you go about your business, and I’ll handle it?” he lazily proposed.
“Oh, no, laddie,” the first man glowered, pointing a kitchen knife at the girl. “We’ve had enough of this lass, and warned ‘er plenty o’times. She’d rob the milk from yer tea and come back fer the sugar.”
The second staff member agreed. “Time and again, she keeps return'n. The local wolvens handle thieves and crooks around here. They’ll be plenty happy to get some fresh human for their pack.”
Levi wasn’t sure which reference they were indicating to with the wolvens’ business. It wasn’t uncommon for packs to establish themselves in towns as protectors or even groups for mutual benefits with the human populace. Whether this pack was malevolent or had good intentions of keeping the streets clean was not clear from the two men’s descriptions.
Furlan sidled up to Levi before he could answer, flicking the half-smoked cigarette to the ground and crushing it under foot. “Eh, what would they want with her? She doesn’t look all that impressive to be handing to a wolven pack.”
“Probably to eat ‘er. We don’t ask questions.”
Levi scoffed, “Your ignorance is showing. Wolvens don’t eat humans for the sake of it. That’s overexaggerated myth.”
The first man gritted his teeth, preparing to retort when Furlan cut him off with a casual wave of his hand. “Eh, even if they did, there’s more meat on a spider’s knuckle. If anything, I’d think they would find the offer insulting.”
That was enough to make the staff members pause while they exchanged looks. After a beat, the first member spat on the cobbled ground, glaring at the three of them. “If she comes back ‘ere again, there’ll be consequences.”
“We hear ya,” Furlan nodded.
The two men stomped back inside, leaving the travelers with the young girl. Levi tsked as he turned to face her, amused to find her frowning warily at them with a piece of bread cradled against her stomach. Her ruddy, freckled skin was smeared with dirt and her auburn locks were disheveled from its hold.
“Oi, go on home. And try to be smarter about where you stick your hands,” Levi advised. “If you’re gonna get caught, don’t bother stealing.”
The girl pursed her lips into an indignant pout. “I don’t need your help. And don’t tell me to go home when obviously I have none.”
Furlan's lips quirked downwards. “You a runaway or something?”
“Just have no home. Simple as that.”
“Where’s your family?”
The girl stood up, dusting her clothes off with her free hand. “Don’t have one. You deaf?”
Furlan huffed, crossing his arms as he scowled at her. “Well, maybe you should check out a local shelter or church. I’m sure they’ll provide for you, so you don’t have to steal.”
“Yeah, right. Not sure where you’re from, but I know it’s not here. The church doesn’t care and there’s no shelter in this backwater town.”
Levi sighed, knowing the limited resources in small villages as they were in. But it wasn’t his problem. If he took in every street orphan he’d come across, he was sure he’d be granted Sainthood by now. No thanks. Taking care of himself and keeping the good-looking Furlan out of trouble with husbands and lovers was enough responsibility.
“Come on,” he told the sandy-haired companion, stalking out the mouth of the alleyway. “We should get to going if we want to make it to the next town by check-in time.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“Wait!”
Furlan’s footsteps halted causing Levi to reluctantly follow suit after two more strides.
“What now?” Furlan asked the girl.
Her face had smoothed to one of interest as she stared at them. “You’re heading out of town?”
“Yup. But that shouldn’t surprise you seeing as you pegged us for being outsiders.”
“Mostly you. Your accent is English. Kinda not a great welcome around these parts.”
Furlan rolled his eyes, sending an annoyed glance at Levi who shook his head. He continued walking out the alley with Furlan in tow, although the third set of footfalls didn’t escape his notice.
“I want to come with.”
“Yeah, nah, kid,” Furlan answered, a smile in his tone. “We don’t take in strays.”
Hypocritical, don’t you think, Levi mused to himself.
The girl huffed. “I’m not asking you to take me in. I’m asking to go to the next town with you.”
“You hear this, Levi? Stubborn, kid.”
“I certainly didn’t hear any asking either," Levi commented without turning around. "Sounded like a demand.”
Her protests came as expected. “Firstly, I’m not a kid. Secondly, it was an implied question.”
“Well, if you’re not a kid then you can manage to make it to another town on your own,” came Levi’s unmoving retort.
“Ugh, well in that case, who's to say I just so happen to be going to the same town as you?”
Furlan chuffed. “Nice try, but you’re a little too close to us to be going with that innocent story. Seems like you’re just trying to stalk us now, and poorly might I add.”
“Well, find another road then, mister. This one is mine.”
“Fuck off. Geez, maybe we should’ve let those pricks take her, Levi. Didn’t expect she’d be sticking to us like a burr.”
Again, Levi sighed, Pot calling the kettle black.
Finally drawing to a halt, Levi faced the two humans. “Why the sudden interest in the next town?”
The girl blew her stray locks from her face. “Oh, you know. Like you said, maybe a church or shelter would be a better option for me. If that’s the case, this town obviously doesn’t have any available, but maybe the next town will. Just imagine,” she cheekily continued like a sales pitch building up, “you let me go with you to wherever your next stop is, and then I’ll head to the church for assistance and be out of your hair. We all win.”
Levi had been around enough to recognize a scheme when he saw one and the ‘innocent’ grin was a bright sign warning of trickery. But for some reason, it didn’t set well to leave her in the same status quo here. He may have bought her another day or two of freedom, but judging by the dirty side-eyes of others on the sidewalk, she was well known for her methods of getting a meal.
Yup, it had to be some nostalgic pity resurfacing for her.
“Fine,” he relented, heading in the direction to Furlan’s rental car. “But you’re getting dropped off at the first church we find there.”
“Yes!” she cheered, helping herself to stand directly on his right while Furlan grumbled on his left. “So, what do I call you?”
“I’m Furlan and this is Levi. Don’t get too comfortable, kid.”
“I told you; I’m not a kid. But you can call me Isabel.”
Predictably, the car ride consisted of equal amount of bickering until they reached the next town. And, much to Levi’s annoyance, the church there was similarly unaccommodating for the level of care Isabel needed in guardianship. When he stole a glimpse at her in his peripheral, Levi noted the smirk Isabel failed to smother once the priest gave them his best wishes and apologies.
Yup, she was real torn up about it.
Belfast, Ireland, 28 November 1993
_____________________________________
A few years had passed since Levi’s solitude was stomped out by his two companions. They traveled across Europe together, usually bouncing from the same three or four countries, but always making it back to Ireland once or twice a year.
It was nice having the means of forging documents and having Furlan and Izzy buffer situations where he was unable to with his Supra status. During the nights of the full moon, Levi usually would be indoors at the hotel while either of his friends would get food or whatever else was needed, seeing as wolvens’ sense of smell was heightened, and he’d garnered strange looks. Despite his irises being slightly larger than the normal human’s, it was a crossover feature that was easily overlooked by most. But there was something about his scent that teased at wolvens during that lunar cycle, drawing curious looks like they were trying to determine if he was one of them or not.
It was best to keep his head down, especially on a blood moon of all nights.
“I’m just saying, the bar downstairs was practically empty when I walked by,” Furlan griped. He was folded sideways in the lounge chair with his gangly legs over an armrest. An elbow draped across his reclined head as he spoke. “A drink won’t kill us. Plus, I bet they have good snacks.”
“You’re more than welcome to go,” Levi replied while flipping a page in a book, propped against the pillows of the bed. “I’m just not interested.”
“Oh, come on! You’ll be fine. Strange looks never bother you any other day.”
“I don’t get strange looks, Far.”
“Psh, yeah, whatever you say, mate. Ooofph!” The lumpy airborne pillow smashed into his stomach.
“Just go and take Izzy with you. Then maybe I can have some quiet for once.”
“Aww—big bro!” Isabel whined from her own bed. “Furlan’s right. One beer won’t hurt anything. Plus, I’m legal age to drink now. Come with us.” When he didn’t answer, she pushed off her mattress and bounded onto his where she stared at Levi from over his book. “Please! Please—please—please?!”
Browns drawn together, Levi glowered at the young woman, irked at her immortal persistence. “You know why I don’t like risking it.”
“But it’ll be quick. And most wolvens will probably be out at clubs, home, or doing something else instead. It’s fine. You deal with rude people all the time with just a grumpy look. Some moody wolvens won’t be any different.”
Sighing, Levi knew when to choose his battles.
“One drink,” he caveated while snapping the book closed.
“Yes! Thanks, big bro!”
Furlan shared a conniving grin with Izzy who sprang over to him as he hauled himself up. “Good work, kiddo. He can never say no to you.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll lock myself in the bathroom for the rest of the night,” Levi threatened.
“Eh, fine.”
The trio gathered the few items needed and headed to the lower establishment. As Furlan had mentioned, there were few patrons in the dining area of the bar, which was a relief. It wasn’t the nicest hotel they were staying at, but it was significantly better than some of the other facilities that smelled of booze and sweat.
They found a corner of the bartop that was far from anyone else and ordered their drinks. It didn’t escape Levi’s notice that Furlan ordered an Imperial Pint, clearly making the most of his one drink promise. And the practical White Russian bowl that Izzy received wasn’t far behind. Well, he couldn’t fault them for being opportunists.
“Want to try some?” Furlan asked. “Very refreshing.”
“Ooh! I want to.”
Furlan handed it over to Isabel to sip while looking at Levi. “What about you?”
“Nah,” he answered, happy with the crystal ware of whiskey. “This’ll do.”
“Suit yourself,” Furlan shrugged, taking the offered pint back after Izzy gave her approval.
The young man, now in his mid-twenties, was always generous. He liked to spend his money on people he considered friends, although that was limited to Levi and Izzy. At first, Levi had assumed it was the guy’s way of showing off, because how could someone so giving end up in a gang? But as Levi got to know him, it seemed that it was a quirk Furlan genuinely enjoyed. And if Levi tried to tell him no and refuse the ‘gifts’, the human would get pushy with his overbearing personality until Levi learned to accept it.
“You know, I was thinking we should go to Canada one of these days. Or America. They say New York is huge,” Furlan chatted, leaning on the bar to look at both Levi and Izzy.
“Oh, New York would be fun! Or maybe we could check out San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge looks so pretty in photos.”
Furlan snapped his fingers. “We could take a boat there, I bet. I wonder how long it would take to travel though.”
“You don’t think you could make papers that would pass for the planes?” Isabel asked. Between her and Levi, they were both reliant on fake documents via Furlan’s skills.
“No, I’d be afraid to chance it. I heard airports are extra careful with checking documents, and legit passports are something we’d probably have to outsource. I don’t have the equipment for those.”
“But what’s wrong with ours that we use on trains?”
“Like I said, it’s the levels of checkpoints in the airport. It isn’t like we can hop off early like a train station and then walk across the border elsewhere.”
Levi took a big sip of the whiskey, feeling the burn track to his belly. “It’s probably for the best. We shouldn’t risk drawing attention from the officials if they find any fakes.”
Izzy pouted, “I guess, but I’ve never been on a plane before. And a boat across the Atlantic seems like it’d take forever. We’d get so bored.”
“You’d get bored,” Levi corrected.
But Izzy wasn’t having it, “And you’d have an aneurysm with how filthy everything would be on a cramped hunk of metal.”
Touché. She wasn’t wrong.
Furlan scooted close to Levi, lounging on his shoulders like a piece of furniture. That was another thing about the human. He liked to touch and was usually handsy with Levi.
“Izzy. Do you know why I love this guy?”
“Big bro? Why?” there was a smile in her voice.
Furlan cupped a hand at the back of Levi’s neck and shook him jokingly. Levi was trying to take a sip at that moment when it sloshed onto the wooden counter. He gritted his teeth and elbowed Furlan in the ribs to put an end to the brotherly-throttle.
“Oofph,” Furlan recovered quickly, then went back to leaning on Levi. “Because nothing bothers him more than uncleanly habits. Seriously, this guy has faced so much shit in his time, but that’s the biggest crime of all in his eyes.”
Isabel giggled at Levi’s annoyed glare.
“Is there a point to this, Far?”
There was a sadness that creeped into Furlan’s smile as he went back to his drink. “Nah. Not really. Just that we love you... We aren’t immortal, you know, and I got to thinking lately that we shouldn’t skip out on saying it while we can.”
“Where’s this coming from?” Levi asked, glancing at Izzy who shrugged.
It was no secret that Furlan hadn’t been sleeping well, as of late, and he wasn’t sure if that was cause for the melancholy. However, the subject was one that Levi himself didn’t care to touch on often. He was aware of his status and was reminded of it every day. Furlan was no longer an energetic teen, and Isabel had grown into a fine young lady. Levi considered himself a protector of sorts over his friends, but one thing he could never save them from was time. He’d already lived one of their lifetimes without them, so he knew how quickly the decades could pass before they too eventually moved on to the next life.
Reality was a nasty by-product of living.
“I don’t know,” Furlan said into his beer. “Just been thinking is all.”
“Well, stop that,” Isabel huffed. “No serious talks here. We’re supposed to be drinking and having fun.”
Before either could add to it, a fusty scent wafted in towards Levi. Spinning halfway around toward the entry of the bar, he spotted two dour-eyed men hovering in the doorway, scanning the thinly occupied room.
“Heads up,” Levi murmured, turning around to not draw attention despite his instincts telling him not it aim his back toward the newcomers.
Furlan slid upright into his seat and tracked his gaze to the strangers before sipping his beer. “Are they--?”
“Yup.”
“Shit.” Furlan shared a look with Isabel across from Levi that he ignored. “Sorry, mate.”
“It’s fine,” Levi reassured, tipping back the rest of his whiskey. “Just finish your drinks.”
The bartender had frozen upon seeing the two wolvens before he resumed wiping down the counters. Both sauntered over to the bar, staring balefully around at the patrons sitting at the tables as they cut through the room.
“Oh, gentleman. I hadn’t expected to see you here this evening,” the portly bartender welcomed, pulling out two glasses and filling them with some clear liquid that was pungent. “Out on your monthly hunt?”
“Aye,” the blond wolven replied, taking a glass while the salt-and-peppered companion stayed unmoving.
The bar had grown ominously quiet.
Levi kept his head down, staring at the empty glass as Furlan and Izzy nursed their drinks a little faster, being careful not to appear obvious. The blond shifter sensed the audience in the other patrons and turned to address the room.
“Seems like most here already know who we serve. If anyone has any leads that fits our boss’ preferences, we’d appreciate it if you point us in said direction.”
No one answered the odd request, some following Levi’s lead and ducking their heads to avoid attention. He hoped that being between his human companions would be enough to cover his scent. Unluckily, however, what he realized belatedly was that having Isabel at his side was not the best strategy when faced with these two wolvens. Not when they were on their so-called hunt.
The older wolven slapped his hand onto the blond’s arm, gesturing to the trio at the bar in the corner. It took only a sly glance for both shifters to start heading their way. Levi instinctively edged onto his barstool; one leg planted on the lowest rung, so he was ready to stand. The whiskey may as well have been water with how sober he felt.
“You three regulars around here?” the blond asked, stopping short of Isabel’s back.
“Just in the area for the night,” Furlan replied, keeping it vague whether they were true locals or visitors.
“Yeah? Not seen you three around here before.”
“Just decided to try someplace new.”
“Mhm..." the man seemed uninterested, "Do you know who we are?”
“I can’t say that I do. But we’re always pleased to make new acquaintances,” Furlan answered smoothly.
“Actually, we have a few questions for the lady.”
Levi felt his grip on the glass tighten, but maintained some self-possession as to not break it. He would wait for Furlan to reach a point where his smooth-talking hit a wall before he reacted. Although, that didn’t stop him from shooting a side-eye at the wolvens, sizing up the level of danger they possessed. The butt of a pistol in the older shifter’s waistband was a noteworthy detail. So was the way the bartender was pretending to be busy and not paying them any mind.
None of these were good signs.
“Ah, my sister?” Furlan jeered friendlily. “She’s very shy, I’m afraid, and doesn’t care much for strangers. Total introvert.”
The shifters were ignoring Furlan now, evaluating Isabel who did all she could to not squirm beneath their gazes.
Furlan tried again to pull their attentions away, “Why don’t you two let me buy you a drink and we can speak as new friends, yes?”
“How old are you?” the blond demanded from Isabel.
“Hey—“ Furlan spun in the barstool while a warning sternness entered his voice. “Look, mate, I’m trying to be polite here, but that’s hard to do when you ask inappropriate questions like that. She’s my sister, so please show some respect.”
“Shut-up, boy,” the blond growled, eyes flashing yellow. Then he grabbed onto Isabel’s arm, “Our boss would like to see you, human—”
He never did get Isabel off the stool.
Levi smashed him on the side of the head with his crystal tumbler, shattering it as shards were buried into flesh. A burst of blood spurted out and onto Levi’s hand as the shifter pitched towards the floor with a vacant, unconscious gaze.
The older wolven snarled as he abandoned the pistol in his possession in favor of elongated claws that he tried to plunge into Levi. The grim spun, grabbing Isabel’s half-drunken cocktail next and cracked it against the counter. Claws almost swiped into his flank when he jammed the jagged glass into the man’s eye, gouging it out in a pop of fluids.
A high-pitched howl stripped from the shifter’s throat as he lurched backwards, but Levi grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, drew the pistol from his waistband, and placed it under the wolven’s chin, firing through his skull. It sounded like a baseball bat was taken to a watermelon as a burst of blood, calcium shells, and brain matter sprayed upwards in a cloud. The body hit the ground right after, sending patrons screaming as they fled from the establishment.
A distinct rack-rack of a shotgun behind Levi drew him to face the bartender who looked like a healthy mix of horrified and livid.
“What have you done?! Do you have any idea who they work for?!”
Levi had half a mind to put a bullet in the bartender, just for allowing the shifters to harass Izzy as they had. There were no traces of good intentions from the wolvens, and obviously they got away with that behavior regularly if they did so in plain sight. But Furlan was quick to placate the matter, standing between Levi and the bar top while Isabel sidled close.
“No, sir, we don’t. Please enlighten us.”
The shotgun wavered as the bartender gawked, probably finding the unshakable conversationalist a bit daunting.
“They work for Lord Calvi. A coven leader of the region who employs the local pack as his muscle. You just murdered two of his soldiers!”
Levi glared with unreserved venom, “They should’ve kept their filthy hands to themselves.”
“You don’t understand. They’re sent out every month to find a new plaything for Lord Calvi... The coven will know when these two don’t return. The local authorities have already been called, I guarantee it. And Lord Calvi has the police in his pocket.” The bartender shook his head, thick jowls moving with the motion. “You should’ve just let them take the woman. Now, he’ll make an example of all of you.”
Fan-fucking-tastic. This was the sort of shit Levi was trying to avoid. In fact, he was pretty sure if Kenny saw the shitstorm he was stirring up in Belfast, he'd be mocked relentlessly.
“Big bro,” Isabel tugged at his sleeve still holding the gun. She cast him a wide-eyed stare, then looked at Furlan. “We should go.”
“You can’t run,” the bartender argued. “Belfast is his territory. He’ll find you, even if you get out of city limits.”
“We’ll see about that,” Levi grumbled, grabbing Isabel’s hand and dragging her to the exit.
Furlan was on his heels, not responding to the bartender’s cries to not leave. How trying to escape would make it all worse.
***
Levi never claimed to be an optimist. Nor was he a pessimist. Things just simply were. There was no use trying to manifest good things by looking at the positives, just as preparing for the worst didn’t summon a heaping of bad luck.
But devils be damned, things were not going in their favor.
This is bad.
The hasty retreat from Belfast was more difficult than Levi predicted. Whatever patron called the police really screwed the trio over as reinforcements were already closing in when they left the hotel. The moon was hanging at its peak between rooftops, lighting the back alleys for the two humans. A positive. But the moon simultaneously enhanced their pursuers’ senses to hunt them down. A very big negative.
It had to be a couple hours at this point, of Levi trying to get them out of the city, only to meet barricades and opponents on every block. Whoever this Lord Calvi was, he practically owned Belfast and all the city members in it, much to Levi’s dismay.
It was also the first time Levi ever encountered the injection that carried the street name: Blocker. The heavy hitting drug was just shy of benzodiazepines to be considered a tranquilizer, however, the muscle relaxers and analgesia left Levi’s mind in a thick fog. The injection not only prevented one from shifting forms, but it also felt like you’d been hit over the head with a brick, causing reoccurring waves of disorientation.
He managed to fight off the effects for some time, progressively getting slower until eventually his legs gave out during mid sprint down another alley with three wolvens chasing them down.
This is bad.
Furlan and Izzy were twenty yards ahead of him as he ran defense and fought off anyone who got too close, but with his new stagnant position, he’d just have to catch anyone before they passed him by. A last resort to buy them more time until he could regain strength in his legs.
It was shortly after he made the new plan of attack that he saw it happen...
Furlan had looked over his shoulder when Levi’s legs collapsed beneath him, realizing the drug was finally winning the battle against the grim. With gritted teeth, he brought up the stolen pistol Levi had given him to fire at their pursuers, but as he did, a puff of blood erupted from Furlan’s temple, and his body went limp. He tumbled across the hard concrete as his body's inertia continued until Furlan was a heap of limbs with one leg kicking spasmodically.
Levi rarely felt horror when trapped in confusing fights for survival. Sometimes, after everything had settled, he’d feel the negative effects catch up to him so he could process it, yet this time was different. As he watched Isabel crying out for Furlan while she collapsed at his side, the way Furlan’s leg twitched and kicked—that did it.
Levi knew what death throes were, and fuck—this is bad... this is bad!
His mind couldn’t jolt out of the cycling mantra. But whatever terror that filled him, was enough to get his legs working, just enough to get off the ground and hobble toward his friends.
The slamming of shoes behind him were louder than the blood in his ears, and he had the innate urgency to turn and face the threats that crested into a feverish ache. Yet he pushed it aside. He needed to reach Furlan and Izzy. Just get to them. His knees wobbled and he felt himself pitch forward unexpectedly before he caught his balance.
“Run, Izzy!” he ordered when he realized the inevitable. “Run!”
Any further words were stuck in his throat as something collided with his back. He landed with a pained grunt as the wind knocked out of him by whatever brute had ridden him to the ground. A low, unearthly growl was all he could muster as his arms were yanked back. Two other supras sprinted past and snared a shouting Isabel from her escape with relative ease.
Levi was down. He was trapped. And now both were exposed and vulnerable.
He tried to buck the wolven off him, but it was useless. All he could do before he was knocked out was look at Furlan one last time to see that the twitches had stopped but the creeping blood puddle did not.
***
Levi couldn’t figure out how much time had passed since they were captured. Calvi’s wolvens were keen to always keep a hood on him along with his arms bound on the grimy floor. The constant cold that wracked him was enough to conclude he was in some basement or lower level, though it was strange he never heard Isabel or other captives. Only the shuffle and murmured voices of his guards.
It took little time for him to reach the inevitable conclusion that he was going to die. ‘Made an example of,’ was what the pudgy bartender had said. Which was all well and good for them to try, but the problem was Isabel. Not once since the unknown stretch of time had Levi heard a peep from her. He tried getting answers from his guards when they gave him another dose of the blocker, but that only earned him a swift beating until he was laid out on the floor, wondering if his kidneys were pulverized to the point he’d piss blood. The only relief he had was that the wolvens at the bar had wanted Isabel specifically. Levi and Furlan were expendable, so she had to be somewhere.
Levi’s breath shuddered at the reminder of Furlan. The last image he had of the best friend who was preparing to shoot Levi’s soon-to-be attackers, haunted him behind his eyes. Fucking guy should’ve been worried about himself and Izzy, not Levi. Not the Grim who could handle himself.
Swallowing thickly, he pushed the thoughts away, not ready to confront the truth. That would be reserved for another time, when he was locked in a bathroom instead, and Izzy was asleep and safe. If they didn't die, that was. The choices he had now were simple, albeit needed his entire focus to complete.
First option: Make some demands and cause a scene until he was able to gain an audience with this Calvi prick. It would lead to more beatings, of course, until these guards got all their sullen revenge taken out on him for killing their packmates. Worst case, it wouldn’t be enticing enough for them to inform the vampire and Levi would still die.
Or option two: he could stick with what he was good at and hurt anyone who stood in his way, find Izzy, and escape.
A strategy did not require elegance to be successful, just a willpower to see it through and an inclination to enact whatever violence necessary. Something Levi had in spades.
So, using the damage done to his body as a cover, he staged a perfectly acted seizure, lured one guard to check on him, and used his legs as a chokehold while he accessed the wolven’s gun with his bound hands. A few carefully placed gunshots at the guards and a body search for keys rewarded him with his freedom. Though getting nearly choked out by the second wolven before he got the gun free from the holster would leave his neck with unsightly splotches of purple in a couple of hours.
Keeping with the momentum, Levi picked his way through the facilities, up some stairs—then more stairs, and finally, down a corridor to where music and a barrage of scents stewed beyond a set of double doors. Levi had half expected to be in some asshole’s house or mansion, but apparently, the Calvi bastard had chosen some elaborate venue. The place he was held in was a wine cellar and the area Levi currently was slinking into was that of a ballroom of sorts. Something a bride-to-be would wet her panties over for a reception hall.
But what Levi saw was not a wedding party, nor family reunion. The guests were exhibiting elaborate suits and fine cocktail dresses. The styles were modernized, but every fabric was in shimmering bold colors of emerald greens, sapphire blues, crimson reds. Matching masquerade masks were donned while servers that smelt of humans and wolvens alike drifted between guests with silver trays of flukes. The assaulting scent of iron and perfume clashed with the shifters around him, nearly triggering a headache from the overwhelming barrage.
At one cocktail table, a human was dressed in skimpy lingerie, arms held out in offering as a guest tantalizingly licked across the bare flesh beneath glinting fangs. The tittering of others in attendance sent Levi’s stomach lurching as another foreign jolt of terror entered his bloodstream.
Where the fuck was Izzy?
Levi clenched his fists, knowing he was limited with options. He’d bet money she was in that room, but he needed to be smart and not rush things. It was a delicate situation that could turn into a total cluster fuck if he acted without thinking. So, while drifting from one shadow to the next along the outside of the room, the grim scanned all those in attendance, mindful to not draw the gaze of Supras while eyeing everyone that smelled of human.
It took an alarming brief amount of time to find her.
A long banquet table was at the far end of the room where those of the finest and elaborate outfits happened to perch around. At the head, there was a massive freestanding X with restraints on each end that Levi recognized as St. Andrew’s Cross. From where he was, he recognized the auburn curls of the young woman bound to the center, naked with narrow claret lines painted beneath the various punctures to flesh. Like a tailor determined to create his next muse on the fair body, one crimson thread at a time.
The rise and fall of Isabel’s chest were the only thing that helped Levi hold his wrath back from imploding, turning it from reckless and mindless, to cruel and determined.
He could feel the most recent injection of the blocking agent fade, though it was still hovering and doing its job. Not enough to fully debilitate Levi, which meant he was capable of putting up a fight. Tragically for those in attendance, he didn’t have to rely on his Grim form to channel his hatred and vehemence—not when it was so readily available at his fingertips.
Levi was going to brutalize these bastards. Not kill—but mutilate without mercy, as many as he could until he reached Izzy. No white flags, bared submissive throats. He would execute every devil’s-touched one of them that he got his claws onto.
“Hey,” an agitated voice called from behind him. “You can’t be here.”
Like a starting gun going off, Levi moved. He closed the distance to the staff member that called him out, dragging him behind the pillar to snap his neck. Then he was moving before anyone else realized what had happened. Four more bodies dropped when the guests finally understood what was happening, but by that time, Levi was already reaching the table, incapacitating anyone within reach or who tried to stop him, killing abdominal blows, busted kneecaps, sliced arteries, it didn’t matter.
The disturbance of the crowd had stirred Isabel awake with her glassy eyes blinking rapidly. Levi managed to get two of her cuffs free when supra guards grabbed him from behind. However, they hadn’t been prepared for the metal curve of the cuff to gouge into their eye sockets—one in each of their faces--and shoved back so they were forced to unhook themselves from each other in the panic. That bought him a few more seconds to get the third restraint off Izzy right as another asshole seized the grim by his nape.
“Levi!”
He didn’t even get a chance to retaliate before a baton with two prongs was pressed into his clavicle and vicious electricity belted into his chest. His body turned rigid as all of his muscles spasmed, giving his attackers access to slip a collar around his throat and yank his hands behind his back. When the current began to die down, allowing him the chance to challenge the hold, he was hit again with another intense crackle, both from the prod and from the collar, creating a lancing pian through every nerve of his body and thoughts.
“St-stop! Let him go! Stop hurting him!”
This went on for another two agonizing minutes before he was panting on the ground drenched in a sheen of sweat, while trying to will the black splotches from his vision. A vampire that held all the unspoken socialite status in the line of his shoulders stood over Levi’s crumpled body. The downy mousy hair was coifed into a parted hold and his well-groomed attire had a red sash draped diagonally across his body, matching his laced mask.
The man sneered down his wrinkled nose at the grim, lifting his boot to press unkindly into Levi’s face, shoving him as much as possible into the floor without crushing his skull. The vampire’s eyes were cold and flat, even as he addressed the entire room with little effort.
“I apologize for the disturbance to the party. Rest assured we’ll see to it that the little beast learns to regret his rude manners and pay for his crimes against us.”
“What will you do, my Lord,” a fellow vampire murmured low, not in the full attire as the others. Judging by the sporty build and way he lacked a mask, the man was some sort of guard. A shitty one too. But he did manage to get the drop on Levi, so maybe not that shitty after all.
“We’ll feast on him. Make sure to keep him alive for as long possible. He’s been an absolute nuisance, and I want to ensure he feels every bit of it and watches as we drain him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Levi snarled and jerked his body, trying to dislodge the foot. “Let Izzy go, you sick fuck. I don’t care what you do to me, but let her go.”
“Insolent. Little. Mutt.” Each word was punctuated with him grinding the sole of the shoe further into Levi’s cheek. “I think we’ll take your tongue first. Ishmael, tie the girl back up. We aren’t done with her yet.”
“Get off my big bro, you fucking coward! You think you’re tough? Fight him fair then, you bastard!”
A hard slap rang out, cutting all protests off.
Levi felt his rage surge as the itch to shift and chew into the vampires became nearly overwhelming. The lights flickered overhead in a strobe effect as he growled low in his throat. The blocker was barely keeping him trapped in his bipedal form, yet he could feel the wicked energy in his belly throb for release.
“You touch her again, and I’ll devour your soul, you son-of-a-bitch. I’ll fucking shred it and sleep peacefully as whatever’s left makes it to hell and is sent straight to a demon’s fucking maw!”
Was that a risky thing to say? Probably. Would they realize he wasn’t a wolven? Most likely not, but the flickering lights were going to be hard to wave off as coincidence.
Apparently, they weren’t that concerned as the guard leaned down to pick Levi up after the shoe finally retracted. He wasn’t even fully lifted from the ground when a polite cough made the guard pause. Now that his face wasn’t crushed into the tile, Levi could see the vampire leader and henchman turn toward another stranger hovering in their space.
A shadow poured over Levi as the robust man walked closer to gaze at him appraisingly. Levi couldn’t read much about him from behind the mask, but the ash blond hair cascading over his shoulders was hard to miss.
“Lord Calvi,” the accented voice purred with grace and respect shown for someone of high standing. “You didn’t tell me there was a second part to the gift. I thought it was just the girl you were offering me.”
“Don’t be alarmed. I wouldn’t offer you a menace like this creature. He’s lived this long only to meet a lesser fate than his other companion.” The pure disdain was soaked in each syllable.
The feeling's mutual, Levi internally seethed.
Meanwhile, the newcomer merely bared his teeth in a charming display of a smile. “Ah, so this is the troublemaker your hunters struggled with this evening.”
The way he jested dug further under Lord Calvi’s skin whose jaw ticked insistently. “And how did you come by this knowledge?”
The maned gentleman tilted his head coyly, “Oh, people talk, others listen. Harmless chatter, I assure you.”
Calvi didn’t look amused, but the man continued before he could form a response.
“Your little toy has war in his blood.”
Levi stiffened at the implication. Maybe someone had basic awareness after all. So long as they didn’t know more than lights strobing momentarily, Levi was safe.
“I can find use for that aggression,” he went on to say. “You’ve clearly got something special here, and it'd be a waste to eat. Let me take him off your hands.”
“He killed eleven of my soldiers.”
“I’ll transfer fifteen of my own to your command,” he waved dismissively, as if lives were mere chips on a board.
Levi bit the inside of his cheek, waiting to see what would come from this discussion. If he couldn’t get his hands free from behind his back, shifting wouldn’t be an option even if the drug wore off. But if this new vampire was willing to take Levi with him and Izzy, that provided more opportunities to get themselves away. If not... well. It looked like he mucked up his one and only shot at their escape.
Calvi huffed overhead.
“I don’t mean to offend, Lord Tybur, but I’m looking forward to killing this one myself. If not for the disarray he caused in my city, then for the affronted guests here this evening,” he swept a hand across the ballroom where the visitors watched the debate continue. Even the music had died, creating a sort of echo in the cathedral-like ceiling. Blood splatter marked the path Levi had taken around the outside of the room and some bodies were being lifted out, but that was the only movement. “What example would I be making to just hand off a wasteful blood bag to another Lord and not issue appropriate punishment?”
“You wouldn’t be handing him off,” Tybur chortled, either important enough to get away with it to Calvi’s furious face, or absent of common sense. “You gifted me his companion already. I merely wish for the complete set. Come now,” he dragged a hand down Calvi’s arm. “Let us drink and discuss this with good humor rather than reprisal, hm? I’m sure we can come to an agreement, and I’ll even make necessary amends to the coven members attacked by the little heathen here today.”
“How will you do that?” a new vampire asked with a hint of accusation that underlined interest. “That was two of my coven members that the cur attacked. And one of Magath’s members that were killed. He won’t be pleased to hear it.”
“For those injured, I’ll cover all expenses and deploy the finest doctors for care, as well as appropriate compensation. As for those that have unfortunately perished, I will discuss such instances in private with the coven heads.”
That seemed to appease the hungry crowd as Tybur faced Calvi once more with a sly smirk. “Well? What do you say, old friend?”
Calvi considered him for a beat, though the fact the guests seemed mollified for now sanded the edge of his temper to something more amicable. “Alright, Lord Tybur. Your silver tongue never ceases to tarnish. Let’s discuss the mongrel.”
“Excellent!” Tybur crowed with a beaming smile as if he had already won. He slid his conniving gaze onto Levi who was being manhandled between two guards. The smile crystalized, causing a fresh sense of doubt to needle at the walls of his chest.
Something told him that smile was not one with a foundation of kindness.
***
Despite Tybur coming out on top with his negotiations, things progressively got worse. Levi’s initial attempt to get Izzy free was all the warning Tybur needed to make the appropriate adjustments and deter any future efforts by the grim. The genial and charming display during discussions with Calvi remained present, though not without the condescending superiority to boot. Tybur made it quite clear that Levi and Izzy were nothing more than playthings for him, their lives hostage to his whims.
It burned Levi to admit it, but he had hoped—against all his past experiences and battles—that Tybur had their intentions in mind. That, while maybe not some knighted savior, he was at least playing the board due to some bleeding-heart sense of compassion, trying to get them away from Calvi.
But oh, no. That was far from the case.
Lord Willy Tybur, head of the infamous Coven in central Poland, was no saint. He was ruthless, cunning, and insatiable in every sense of the word.
Izzy was meant as a gift to him for closing out a business deal with Calvi, thus the celebration at the venue. She was nothing more than a rare vintage wine one would present after a transaction as a sign of goodwill. Levi, on the other hand, was a personal want. Tybur was simply a spoiled child throwing a tantrum for a toy they couldn’t have until the adult finally gave in. Toys belonging to such brats were never cherished, often taking the brunt of abuse until something new and shiny came along. In a way, the description fit Levi to the letter--while also not even scratching the surface.
The new and shiny replacement never made an appearance.
As a result--and out of a need to weasel a sense of obedience from the ill-tempered grim—Isabel’s life was safeguarded. To a degree.
So long as she drew breath, Levi would... “behave” himself. I.e. not spend every opportunity dedicated to maiming and killing anyone within reach. That didn’t mean he wasn’t being a menace at every afforded chance he was given, but he did so tactfully. Because as he came to learn, just because Isabel was alive to placate him and be an evening snack for the vampire, she was also used against Levi in other ways.
It began after the sixth attempt or so of Tybur trying to persuade Levi’s willingness to serve him. As usual, he had the guards restrain his arms and legs just enough to shuffle into the paint studio or dining room. The latter was the more common setting Tybur preferred to toy with Levi, under some misguided impression that offering the perceived wolven food would open his mind to listening. Like trying to entice a stray cat for pets. But Levi refused, just to spite the vampire. Not to mention the churning in his gut whenever he was forced to watch Izzy hold out her arm for Tybur to drink from. Typically, when it reached that point, the corrosive resentment he had for the coven leader was enough for progress to go up in flames, giving Tybur no choice but to send Levi back to the cell or risk injury. To himself, coven members, or Levi.
None of those options were acceptable.
But upon that fateful attempt to charm Levi into compliance to his role as either personal servant, pet, or—preferably—the private guard, the grim made it abundantly clear it would never happen unless he let Izzy go free, along with some colorful bits of language that had Tybur looking distinctly offended. It was during that same meeting that Levi had managed to slip his restraints and discovered he could destroy a soul in his human form with his blunted teeth--though it took much more effort.
At least, there was one less guard to deal with.
Tybur had been furious. The muzzle was then added to the inventory whenever Levi was removed from his cage, and the eye-opening consequences escalated for the unruly Irish pair. Instead of punishing Levi for his disobedience and feral behavior, Tybur had Isabel stripped naked, strapped to the dining table and flogged. It became a habit after that. For every time Levi stepped out of line, Isabel would take his punishments while he watched—virtually untouched. And what made everything else more skin-chilling was whenever Tybur would lean over a sobbing or unconscious Izzy and lick the furrowed flesh done from the cane.
Levi’s hatred only boiled for the man with no outlet to go. The method was more effective than the restraints and Levi found himself falling in line and tolerating the handling more times than not to avoid Izzy being injured. It irked Tybur that Levi was still not a willing participant, but he learned to accept it was better than having the feral man constantly trying to thin his coven.
For a couple of months, the pattern remained the same until Tybur’s impatience inevitably reached its limits. He decided to change the routine; try a different route to get Levi to play with him without teeth and claws. When one had a wild animal that refused the carrot and stick approach, it was time to break them down and rebuild.
There were many techniques and tools Tybur had catalogued from living for so long, each country and era conjuring the latest barbaric attack on a person’s autonomy, though some remained timeless. For example, introducing Levi to an abnormal environment, while applying acute isolation, and taking all personal control away, the coven leader would have the ingredients of pathogenic stress. By creating the right environmental stimuli, deterioration of the mind’s integrity had followed. Despite Levi knowing what was being done at that moment, it wasn’t enough to remain unaffected.
The manipulative techniques were proven efficient for a reason.
Being locked inside the frigid oubliette was a favorite tool of Tybur’s (stimulus reduction and thermal stress). Other methods were chaining him into a specific kneeling position on the tile floor beside Tybur’s chair or up against the wall for hours (stress position), or forcing him to do so during long dinner parties (social humiliation). Attempts to instill fear were a little trickier without unnecessarily targeting Isabel. If Tybur over did it harming her, it proved to become predictable and inefficient. Not to mention, Tybur wasn’t ready to lose a delectable treat or risk her immune system too much. He liked his dolls pretty and in good health.
Months went by.
Levi was struggling more and more with keeping things straight. The various methods employed by Tybur were consequently wearing him down, gifting him with deteriorated sleep and uncontrollable periods of disassociation. His entire equilibrium was out of focus, leaving him bouncing back and forth from anger to apathy, from restless to lying vacantly on the mattress in his cell. Despite the compromised stability of his cognitive function, what really pushed Levi over the edge was the next lesson Tybur introduced: the White Room.
The sensory deprivation of all color and sound had been a proven method Tybur picked up from Iran or Venezuela—Levi couldn’t recall which the vampire mentioned when he was gloating. Maybe both. What he did remember from the monologue was that by depriving Levi of visual, auditory, and tactile stimulation for up to seven days, it would develop an increase to suggestibility to the vampire’s wants.
That might as well have been another form of torture: being told your brain was slowly being turned against you while there was nothing to be done about it. Levi would sit in the white room or oubliette or painful positions while people mocked him and try to keep his thoughts in order. Try to disappear into his memories or internally recite passages of poetry or remind himself what the tormentor’s intentions were. To talk to himself and stay in the safe territory of rationality.
But regardless of his coping efforts, it didn’t keep Tybur’s tricks from still working.
Hallucinations plagued Levi now. Some days, he even found a sense of comfort in the oubliette because it was familiar and safe—another sign that Tybur was chipping his resilience away. It felt like he was being brainwashed, that he was losing touch with reality, and there was nothing he could do to resist. There were even days when he considered what would happen if he just gave in. If he accepted his fate to work or please Tybur in whatever role he had in mind, despite Tybur refusing to let Izzy go. But then he’d twist his fingers into his scalp until it was painful and scream until his lungs were empty. Because if he gave in, he lost. If he gave in, Izzy would serve no purpose.
As the first year turned to two, and maybe three—Levi couldn’t be certain—Tybur eventually found his new and shiny replacement. Well... Not in Levi’s case, but for Izzy.
At first Levi was grateful she wasn’t subjected to the vampire’s side so frequently. Another girl took up that role, yet Tybur always kept Izzy close because she still served an important tool to use against Levi. Had it been any other person, she would have been drained when he grew bored and replaced. Which happened to the young thing that had taken her position. And then another new face was there only to eventually meet the same fate.
Even though it brought a sense of comfort knowing Isabel was ‘safe’ from the same heartless and morbid draining, there was always an ominous cloud hanging overhead that her time was limited. That Levi and Izzy could not continue this way forever, while staying out of Tybur’s blood-lusted focus.
As predicted, things once again changed when Tybur had Levi brought to him in the dining room, one warm July day.
When the grim slunk in with the appropriate restraints, although missing the muzzle, Tybur had his guards sit him down in the chair to his right. Isabel was not in attendance for once, which unnerved Levi at first, but he remembered she wasn’t Tybur’s favorite new doll.
The vampire made some misaligned comments about Levi having not eating lately, followed by false concern for the shakiness in the thin body. Tybur ushered someone to bring in some food for him as a result, leaving them waiting for it to be delivered.
“You’ve been very amicable lately, Levi,” Tybur praised, lacing his fingers together and perching his chin on top. “I think you deserve a treat for your efforts in being so cooperative.”
Levi had refused to speak to him. It was easier to not engage.
“Hmm,” Tybur hummed, not at all surprised by the chilly reception.
Instead, he filled the silence with nonsensical chatter that Levi ignored until a guard returned with a small bowl of the strangest cookies he’d seen. Three pieces of what looked like dollops of cherry whip cream stared up at him as he slowly realized that they were baked desserts. That explained how they held their shape without melting.
“Meringues,” Tybur supplied with an oily smile. “Have you had them before?”
No response.
“Go on. Try them. They should be the right amount of tart to peak your interests.”
For a moment, Levi had considered rejecting the offer by ignoring him again, but he was hungry. And so far, everything had been civil between them. Perhaps if Levi didn’t antagonize the coven leader, he would be sent back and left alone. So, after he ate one, and then another, he decided it was enough and pushed the bowl away. The entire time, Tybur watched him with a greedy stare, as if he was the one starving.
“How was it? My chef hails from France originally so you won’t find better meringues here, unless you go to a specialty shop.”
Levi leveled him with a scowl, falling right back into the spiteful routine despite his earlier hopes to wrap this up. “It was too salty. I’ve had better.”
The amused gleam in Tybur’s gaze dimmed abruptly as the smile slipped to something smaller and forced. There was something cold about the closed off look that had Levi tensing in preparation of being lashed at, but no reprimand came.
“I see,” Tybur mused, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “Do you know what it takes to make a meringue? Usually, the binding agent of salt or flour, something acidic like lemon, sugar, and whipped egg whites. But some of those ingredients can be substituted. Perhaps, that’s why these taste different, hm?” A cruel curve of the vampire’s lips had Levi tensing further. “Would you like to guess what was substituted? Or we could ask your sweet Isabel.”
Levi felt his eyes widen before narrowing suspiciously. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“She’s resting, of course. Bloodletting can be a taxing process.” Upon seeing Levi’s confusion, he elaborated. “Blood is a substitute for eggs, dear boy. It can foam up quite nicely when whipped.”
It instantly felt like Levi had been hit by a bus and all the air left his lungs. Or maybe he simply forgot how to breathe. His world shrunk to the size of a pinprick as nausea surged within him, but the only thing keeping him from vomiting all over the pompous, hand carved, mahogany table was the crackle of anger at himself for falling for the trick and fury for the vampire and his sick games.
Something had snapped in that moment for the grim. There was no thought process weighing actions against consequences. He was simply in his chair one moment, and in the next, he had tackled Tybur onto the floor and proceeded to pummel double-fisted punches into his face. The restraints around his wrists hindered any true attack, but hot blood was spurting over his knuckles and splattering his cheeks, so that was good enough. In-between the hits, while Tybur struggled to recover his bearings, Levi had leaned down and bit into the man’s trapezius muscle, ready to rip the tainted soul out.
But before he could find that oily spiritual layer beneath the earthly meat in his mouth, Levi was yanked off Tybur and beaten down by multiple assailants. It was a whirlwind of strengthened fists and kicks and electric prods until he was a bloody, panting mass on the floor.
Tybur wasn’t laughing any longer. He held a damp rag to his face, hair disheveled as if he’d walked through a windstorm while he glowered at Levi. The blood smeared across his face, neck, and once impeccable attire. A couple of buttons were missing, the tie loose and misaligned, stained with dark rust. Despite the torn clothes and swelling face, it did not hamper Tybur’s appearance so much as it highlighted the monster that haunted humans’ stories for centuries. The apex predator, thought to only be myth, was awoken.
Leaning down, he clutched Levi’s jaw with enough strength to dislocate it if he wanted to.
“This behavior will not be tolerated. You belong to me, Levi. I am your God and it’s time you’ve come to terms with that.” The pinky and ring fingers dug deeper into his neck below his ear, right against his pulse. “I don’t know what little trick you have with that bite of yours, but we’re going to train it out of you. I hope you’re prepared to reap the consequences.”
And then came one of the worse lessons Levi experienced as he was dragged to the kitchen. Never had he feared for his life as he did during that, where Tybur was determined to ‘put the fear of God into him’. The grim had foolishly got one last cutting insult in about Tybur’s power complex, but that fire was quite abruptly—and literally—doused.
By the end of it, he was on the ground, curled in on himself while panting and coughing. Tybur knelt beside him, running his hands through his hair in a mockery of kindness. And yet Levi allowed it. He couldn’t make much sense of anything except the acute agony and fear while muttering, “please—not again.”
Tybur shushed him, prodding for an apology. An explanation to the bite. A truth to what Levi was. But the grim had enough sense to not speak.
Fortunately, his docile submission on the floor was enough to keep Tybur satisfied as he didn’t repeat the torture or demand Levi answer the barrage of questions. Instead, he continued to pet Levi until his breathing slowed, and the trembling nearly ceased.
“I want to see Izzy,” Levi eventually spoke. It prompted another desire for an apology from Tybur but when Levi still refused, he sighed.
“Fine. I’ll allow it. So long as we’re on the same page that you won’t attack me like that again...”
Carrot and stick.
Swallowing, Levi nodded. It was a lie. Obviously. Tybur understood that as well, but Levi knew the man got off by exerting his dominance over the grim. While he was no doubt furious to have his face closely caved in by his unruly pet, it got Tybur’s blood pumping and fed that apex lust for violence that was so often leashed by the high-class veneer.
It wasn’t even two months later when that earlier foreboding cloud finally reared its ugly head.
Levi was brought into the dining room, as done so many times before, though was placed in the degrading position on the ground, beside Tybur’s chair. Chained in position, Levi’s muzzle was a thin steel contraption rather than the more rugged and uncomfortable alternative. When Tybur plucked a piece of fluffy dark bread from the plate and held it out to Levi, he realized why that was.
“Eat.”
The sick fuck wanted Levi to eat from his hand, now?!
Levi diverted his gaze elsewhere in the room. A clear snub that failed to hide the twisting obstinate scowl.
Tybur released an irate sigh, “You’re being disobedient, Levi. Need I remind you that you’re on thin ice?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He was. He just didn’t trust any food Tybur offered him if he couldn’t distinguish the ingredients. That bread in particular was a dark earthy brown, so who knew what was used in making it. One traumatic event with deceiving cookies was enough to learn his lesson.
“Why must you test me? Your pride will be your downfall, dear boy. Should I really escalate your training just for you to obey the simplest request?”
Request, my ass, Levi mused darkly.
When Levi refused to look at him or accept the food, Tybur huffed and petulantly tossed the bread onto the plate. He picked up his cloth napkin to wipe the non-existent residue from his fingertips.
“Fine. If that’s how you’re going to act,” he grouched, though it sounded fake, even to Levi’s ears.
He didn’t get much of a warning or opportunity to question what Tybur planned to do next. As he guessed, the vampire really wasn’t torn up by Levi’s defiance as Izzy was brought into the room by another family member. Levi had recognized the coal bun pulled from the fair face of Lara Tybur. She escorted Izzy to her brother with the common blank expression before trading places to stand behind Levi, obviously preplanned with anticipation for the shifter's refusal to comply.
He bristled at the turn of events, tugging on the chains that held him in place on the floor.
“What’re you doing? Punishing Izzy just because I’m not hungry is extreme, even for you,” he stated, trying to keep the inflection of worry from his voice.
Stay calm. Don’t antagonize the predator.
Tybur offered a sweet, closed-lipped smile as he pressed himself behind Isabel’s back. It was like a lead rod had replaced her spine by how nervous she was while she stared straight at Levi. There was no threshold that could be met for anyone to suddenly tolerate unwanted touch. Even spending years with Tybur’s constant proximity, she continued to fear his contact, whether it was in search of sustenance or pleasure. And Levi was not blind or stupid to think Tybur never sought Isabel out for her flesh, regardless of her secret reassurances that it was ok--that he never hurt her when he did. So, when his hand snaked around to her throat, the other across her belly, it sickened them both.
The mane of silky flaxen hair dripped over her shoulder as he pressed his fangs into her neck with a click, drinking a few mouthfuls as she clenched her eyes and whimpered. Levi swallowed his own protests and threats, knowing that provoking the vampire was the least smart thing to do.
He stayed quiet. Merely watched with bloodless knuckles and gritted teeth hiding behind a closed off grimace.
When Tybur reemerged from her throat, he met Levi’s gaze with a charming smile. “I admit, dear boy... I’m excited to see how you develop after this.”
The unexpected arching spume of blood coiled through the air with such grace, that it was like a static frame. Levi felt his eyes widen as it splattered across the tabletop like raindrops and Isabel’s body crumpled forward in slow motion. Her hair was seized in a firm hold and a bowl appeared beneath her gaping throat as sloshing competed with her struggled gurgles while her hands were held back from staunching the flow. But it was so hard to hear over the yelling.
His yelling.
He didn’t even recognize the sound coming out of his mouth as the air around him churned with energy, smelling of sulfur and copper as his power strained against the drug in his system.
While life emptied from Izzy, Levi yanked and jerked with all his desperation at the yellowing heating chains, unable to shift or do anything more than dislocate his thumb, and shoulder, and rub his wrists raw. It felt like a bomb detonating in his chest as grief hammered at his ribs. Once again, he was losing someone he loved and there was nothing he could do about it.
When it was clear that she was no longer alive, had no more blood to drain, all of Levi’s fight dried up. Crumpled against the floor with tears trailing insistently, he didn’t move when Tybur approached. There was nothing left but emotional shock and the feeling of a hollow shell.
“Don’t look too put off. We’ll honor her life in the highest way and not let it go to waste, sweet boy.”
“I’ll kill you,” Levi swore darkly beneath his breath, eyes staring vacantly at the vampire’s polished, leather shoes. Two drops of blood sat on the toe of his right loafer in perfect circles. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
His head was jerked up harshly by Tybur’s fingers curling in the heat-resistant leather strap of the muzzle. He could feel pressurized rage start to push through the fog of shock as his glare sharpened between tears and venomous madness. A warbled growl pushed through his throat when Tybur combed his fingers through his hair and smiled with Izzy’s blood still on his lips.
“I’ll tolerate your hatred,” he said wistfully, eyes raking down Levi’s face and neck. “We’ll just have to give that savageness of yours something to focus on. Maybe then, I’ll get my answer on what you truly are.”
His grip tightened on Levi to hold him in place as he leaned in, kissing his temple sweetly right as Lara injected his shoulder with a sedation that had darkness meeting him with welcomed arms.
***
Time passed differently from that point.
Tybur’s interest in Levi had shifted, no longer looking to conscript him to whatever objective, but utilize him in a more productive way. It took a while to set a new routine, mostly because Tybur had a period where he was out of country for major business deals or whatever the fuck he did. That left Levi alone. Not in isolation. But solitude.
Lara was still around. She’d occasionally have him brought out in a drugged state and draw blood or run physicals, all for her own personal desire to learn what he was. Having been there with his few failed escape attempts and successful murders of fellow clan members, it was obvious he wasn’t merely a wolven. Her desire for the truth was insatiable, held back only by her brother’s jealousy of someone else touching his things.
During that stretch of time, Levi hit an all-time low.
He wanted to die.
But even with insanity fraying the edges of his thoughts, there was something that always delayed any attempts. At one point, he had worked up the right amount of desperation to rip his wrists open—hating himself more for letting Tybur win. Even if Levi killed himself, at least he would get some minute revenge for taking Tybur’s toy from him, extracting from the game on his own terms.
But in the end, he couldn’t do it. He tried to tear into the supple skin where all the nerves and veins conjoined, though his nails trembled within the shallow layers of the dermis. He was a fucking coward—fuck!
No, some voice in his head argued, perhaps the sanity that refuse to be snuffed out from the torture. Furlan and Izzy would never want that from you. They’d be disappointed if you ended it like this. Fucking man-up, Ackerman.
Levi wanted to reject that voice, but it had sunken into the grey matter of his brain, burrowing between the folds and refused to dislodge. So, after some shaky introspection and sanity readjustment, he learned to realign all that hurt into seeking retribution on the one responsible instead. He’d play along, continue the status quo. All he needed was one slip from the vampire. One single mistake for him to act.
He could be patient. There were no other lives to consider now. Tybur had fucked up because without Izzy-- ... Without her, Levi had no reason to be compliant. The only downside was Tybur didn’t need him to behave either. Not anymore.
The man was smart. Playing his pawns up until the strategy adapted for new objectives. But that didn’t stop him teaching Levi new things.
The first was Levi’s new role. Apparently, if Levi was going to act like a feral devil, he would be utilized as such. Any enemies from rival covens were tossed into Levi’s cage in hopes he’d attack them. At first, Levi saw through the ploy plain as day. The unknown vampire was simply a victim of the circumstances and had no quarrel with Levi. And in a way, that meant Tybur was a mutual foe.
For days, they’d stay there with Tybur making brief appearances and leaving disappointed upon see the vampire still drew breath. Until one night, when the starvation had finally whittled into the stranger’s impulse. Hunger was a long-time companion to Levi, but to the prisoner hemovore, it was torture. Levi had woken abruptly to the other man trying to drink from him. Startled, he swiftly killed the vampire who swore in his last moments he was only going to feed, not kill him. But it was too late. The damage done was too severe to reverse with the meager items in the cell.
Tybur emerged the following morning, satisfied like the cat that caught the canary, praising Levi that he did well. He was left alone for three more days with the decaying corpse until he too reached desperation levels and resorted to eating pieces of the vampire.
The lesson was, kill or be killed. And that was just the start.
Vampires would continue to be tossed to him out of punishments and food, until he eventually found his way into accepting it. He needed his strength; he needed to survive. If not, he would never kill Willy Tyber and gain his freedom.
The next major change that happened was when a human was thrown in with him after what he guessed was a week or more in the oubliette. He refused to kill them outright. Told Tybur to go choke on a sandpaper cock. He would not give into killing humans.
That was no matter for the socialite. He scowled and considered Levi until he took matters into his own hands by allowing his clan members to do it instead. The humans suffered gruesome deaths that were drawn out for as long as their bodies would last—all while Levi was made to witness it.
The new lesson was: if you don’t kill them, we will, and we’ll do it our way. It comes back on you.
It took four mortal lives. Four lives before Levi broke down and began killing them swiftly out of some laughable excuse of mercy. But he never ate them, and his defiance gained no sympathy from the vampire. It truly was a stalemate in the battle of wills.
When it became clear Levi would starve on that hill, Tybur decided it was a good time to remind him how much the grim didn’t want to die. Weak and delirious from two days of the white room, and much longer without sustenance, Levi was transported to his first wolven fighting ring.
He barely came out as the victor.
Severely injured with watery limbs that couldn’t lift a bowl, Tybur took to fostering him back from death’s door. He fed Levi soup and some rice or porridge mixture, bathing him and bandaging the gaping wounds. On the sixth day, Tybur started to reintroduce meat into Levi’s diet, which got brief resistance that was more token than the usual spite-fueled battle. During his recovery, Levi couldn’t help but find how ironic it was that Tybur was nursing him back to health when all Levi’s intentions were aimed at burning out his soul.
When Tybur took his leave one evening, he was openly pleased with the amount of food Levi had eaten. He asked, as he was closing the cell door behind him, if Levi approved of the meal. The grim grumbled from the mattress that it was fine, just wanting the vampire to leave him alone.
“I’ll be sure to pass the compliments to the chef," Tybur preened with a boastful, toothy grin. "Though I suppose Isabel is equally due her thanks.”
Laughing, Tybur departed Levi with the words hanging in the air for company, just as an endless pit opened in Levi’s chest, sucking out all his oxygen.
No.
No-no-no-no-no-no! That wasn’t what he meant—it wasn’t true...
But what else did Levi expect? That Izzy's body would get a burial in some church grounds? Of course, he should've known Tybur wouldn't let the corpses go to waste!
His gut lurched violently at the image of Izzy stuffed inside a freezer, and Levi barely managed to crash off the mattress before his body was purging all the food up from between fractured ribs. As sweat clung to his entire body, he lay there, cursing the monster that kept him trapped and sought to break Levi at every turn he got. He was so tired. Tired of the never-ending fight and constant vigilance and for none of it to matter in the end.
For the rest of that night, Levi’s hold on his humanity slipped a little further, along with his moral reservations.
***
Months later.
The fighting ring was massive, taking up most of an indoor equine arena that was repurposed and barricaded for the sole focus of wolven fights. An Italian coliseum of Tybur's latest trades partner. Levi and his opponent, a burly lycanthrope with a handgun, were given partial dosages of blockers. It allowed them to access some carry-over features from their shifting forms but prevented a full change. In response to the firearm and stronger opponent, Tybur only saw fit to supply Levi with various throwing knives.
"The odds will be stacked against you, meaning a better payout when you win. So do well," the coven leader had chuckled.
Fucking piece of shit.
A ziiiip of a passing round smacked into the barrier behind Levi’s head. He dipped to the side as more shots were fired recklessly, sprinting to a barrel that was part of the numerous obstacles and cover placed inside the ring. Dropping to both knees, he slapped his back against the metal and peered out just in time to throw a knife into the back of the man’s thigh as he attempted to flee to a new spot.
He toppled over only to roll onto his back and fire at Levi’s position from between his knees. The rounds pattered into the side of the barrel with tings in quick succession, but Levi was stone. He leaned to the opposite side with a blade already between his fingers and let it fly.
That time, the man flopped backwards with a gasped shout. Levi hesitated behind the barrel, waiting for the gun's response, though none came. Exiting the cover with two blades in hand, he began a hunched march toward the body less than 20 yards away.
The lycanthrope dug his heels into the dirt and started to pedal and crawl backwards, hoping to keep some space between him and the approaching omen. When that proved a useless effort, he abandoned his efforts to get the second knife out of his pec and tried to shoot Levi again.
The grim tossed another knife instead.
With the adrenaline and blood racing, all Levi's hurt and fury resurfaced with vengeance. Memories, shame, and hatred laminated over another as he continued to stride toward his opponent. The lycanthrope bared his bloodied teeth, cursing him in a foreign language Levi didn’t know. It was wasted energy on the wolven’s part, because it only stoked Levi’s violence as he warbled an otherworldly growl in response.
Reaching the larger man, he kicked the gun out of his grip, causing a round to spit off somewhere beyond. Stradling the wolven who tried to turn Levi’s first knife back on him, he gritted down with all he had as images flickered in Levi's peripheral. Those fucked up hallucinations always followed him like ghosts, stuttering across the taxed sensory chambers of his mind. They were nearly as bad as the memories that echoed when he got like that.
Losing his mother after unintentionally leading strangers to the house.
Levi blocked the knife attack by pinning the man’s arm to the ground.
Losing Kenny and Mikasa.
He flipped his own blade between his fingers and stabbed the man in the shoulder, twisting it into the muscle.
Losing Furlan.
Another stab.
Losing Isabel.
Another and another.
Being forced to kill and eat other Supras and humans... unwittingly eating a part of his sister...
He lost count in his frenzy, not even aware of the white noise from the crowd jeering at the barbaric display. All that registered was the screaming beneath him had eventually tapered, the wet squelching had grown louder, and the muscular arm that was no longer resisting against his weight. Levi just worked through his raw eruption that had been building up inside over the years, until all the pent-up aggression released like a grenade.
When Levi finally managed to come back to himself, he gazed at the shredded and mutilated enemy below. He expected to feel relief disassembling the threat, yet the horrid sight did little else but give him pause.
Enemy was not the correct term, nor was threat. The lycanthrope was not Levi's foe, nor was he responsible for Levi’s hurt. In fact, he was just another war mongrel obeying his master’s commands so they could win another round in their bloodsport. It didn’t matter which of the wolvens walked out of the ring. Victory. Defeat... They both lost. The only difference was, one would go on to suffer another day, the other would finally rest.
The lycanthrope wanted to raise the arm that was no longer held down by the grim, if only to try to stab Levi in his final act, but his body had no more strength. Seeing the persistence only jarred Levi more as he recognized before him was an endless cycle. Tybur had created a villain in him, doomed to continue taking lives just so he could keep going himself. For what? For revenge?
Was it worth it? Wasn’t Levi creating a bigger path of destruction in his wake by trying to find his chance to kill Tybur? Surely, it would be better if he just died instead, right?
The wheezing from the opponent’s collapsed lung brought him back to the present, and suddenly, he was clutching the man’s hand between his as shame and grief drowned out his remaining fury.
“I’m sorry,” Levi rasped, his throat dry from fighting and dehydration. He could hear some announcer calling the fight, but he anchored his focus on the lycanthrope’s face. “I’m sorry... I’ll make them pay. For all of this.”
The man sluggishly blinked, his breaths now becoming delayed between gasps. He must have understood Levi because he gave the barest nod in response. The grim felt the teary prickle behind his eyes as he mirrored him, jerking his chin up and down. A promise between two strangers pitted against one another because of some assholes pulling strings for their own amusement. A promise that didn't need the same language to pass along because the actions spoke for themselves. Two war dogs fighting other's battles.
The only consolation Levi had that he wasn’t spewing bullshit was that he knew he’d gotten close to killing Tybur a few times now. In fact, by that point, the coven head was sporting a couple permanent scars from Levi’s near lethal hits. It was a reminder whenever the vampire wore a slim fitting suit where the rope of scar tissue peeked along the column of his neck. It gave Levi a sense of morbid delight confirming even the old creature couldn’t heal from the trauma on his soul. Because Levi knew he reached the monster’s spirit and left a permanent blister there.
A hellhound's stain. Another promise.
One that guaranteed Levi was owed the vampire's death.
___
It took nearly 20 years for Levi to find the next promising window for an attempt on the coven leader's life. It happened right before another match where he was used in a proxy fight. In reprisal for managing a second burn on the vampire’s soul, he was rewarded with a retaliating bite on his own person, where Tybur’s teeth shredded right beside his nape before he removed a piece of Levi's flesh.
It was the same night the illegal ring was busted.
Notes:
TW: Thoughts of suicide, death, violence, psychological torture, implied non-con sexual assault, non-con/forced cannibalism (though they are technically not the same species).
Don’t trust the meringue cookies! Too soon?
🫣🥺... I know--not a nice recap. But hopefully it makes it understandable to the mutism and upcoming instability. Because, yes, it’s coming.
But no fear! Erwin and Hange are here! XD
Anyway, a palette cleanser will be happening soon-ish. Next chapter is a bit rough and eye opening for Erwin, but after that, it’ll lighten up.
Thank you for all the amazing support! I deeply appreciate the views, kudos, and comments! Until next time, stay safe! 🩶🖤
Chapter 18: Counterbalance
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
____________________________________________________
Erwin woke up in the disorientating way one does when they hadn’t had nearly enough sleep to recharge their brain. His eyes opened to darkness, but he didn’t move while trying to understand where he was, what woke him up, and how long he was out.
There was a brisk draft in the room, nipping at his once again exposed bare feet, pressed into the armrest of the sofa.
Levi has the window opened again, he hazily surmised... only seconds later realizing that didn't make sense.
The chill was strong enough to qualify as an intrusive presence, a breeze that was more than what could slip through a cracked window from the hallway. The groaning of tree branches leaked into his ears soon after the revelation, causing his mind to sputter.
Too loud. Too clear.
Suddenly, Erwin was jolting upright and scanning over the back of the couch for the source, only for a knot to lodge in his throat.
The front door was wide open, swaying slightly and revealing a void of darkness beyond the threshold. Swinging his legs off the edge of the couch, he shoved himself upright, ignoring how cold the hardwood floors were, indicating how long he'd been asleep before noticing. It was an unnerving thought to have, leaving him with the bitterness that came with vulnerability.
Bolting to the hallway, while jerking his head this way and that to ensure there wasn't an intruder, he recognized the guest room’s door was also open. Erwin cursed under his breath as he rushed to the entryway and flipped on the light, finding that the sheets were rumpled and tossed back—the room undeniably empty.
Fuck. Did Levi run away? How had he not noticed? That was the entire point of sleeping on the bloody couch!
No. Hold on, he tried to take a breath and jump start his brain into functioning rather than landing on false conclusions. If Levi wanted to run away without Erwin noticing, he wouldn’t have left the front door open to wake him. So... What did that mean?
Either someone snuck in to capture the hellhound and escaped in a hurry, or... Levi left and didn’t close the door all the way? No. Neither of those made sense. Despite Erwin having not woken sooner, he would’ve heard if there was a struggle, and—as he just concluded—Levi wouldn’t make a careless mistake as failing to shut the door.
So, what then?
Erwin left the room, rushing to the front of the house and out the door as if that would provide answers. He made it to the edge of the deck's stairs before he cursed himself and ran back in, tugging untied shoes over bare feet, tucking the ends of his sleep pants inside, and snagging a flashlight from the drawer. Returning to the driveway, he used the light to pan through the darkness for clues, turning the black patch of yard to muted-green verdancy, and then flashing away to scan the trees.
“Levi?”
Did he follow the gravel drive to the main road? The forest? There were no signs of him outside the house either.
“Levi!”
The cold wind tousled his hair, pushing through the trees enough to drown out any response, had there been one. Winter was just around the corner, and he knew the elements could be finicky in the mountains. If Levi chose now of all times to take his chances on his own, he really was playing a gamble.
The beam continued sweeping the dark as he padded deeper on his property, determined to find anything that could point him in the right direction. The further out he left from the warm glow of the cabin, the more he met grey and dull visuals wherever he pointed the beam. It was like the clouds had sunk from the sky to rest on the ground, purposefully trying to hinder him. Between the darkness and light refracting off the low fog, it was difficult to see anything that was out there.
Even for a reaper, it felt ominous.
“Levi!”
Growing frustrated, cold, and worried, Erwin treaded closer to the woods, scanning back and forth as he went. Ground, trees, road, back at the cabin; each coming into focus like a sliding movie reel wherever the pool of light landed. Finally, after what felt too long to be only minutes, the beam captured a promising sign.
In an empty patch of damp soil were bare footprints; human and heading into the forest. Erwin let out a rush of air and picked up his pace, following them with a revived sense of urgency.
As he pushed through the thicker understory, feeling the snags of bare branches scratching at his sleeves, he tried to recall long-untouched knowledge of tracking. It didn’t appear that Levi’s stride suggested running, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in a hurry. Sprinting through the thickets of dormant wild roses or over the creeping blackberry would make for an unpleasant experience, especially in his human form.
“Levi!”
It was after another 50 yards when he paused and realized that in his haste, he hadn’t kept track of what direction he was going, relying only on the footprints as a guide. The cabin was washed out from the fog, darkness, and trees, making him feel closed off from the rest of the world. After scanning the area again, he returned to following the faint clues to Levi’s direction, losing strides at a time over lower foliage that prevented imprints. The crunching leaves were loud to his ears, competing with that of the groaning treetops overhead.
“Levi!”
He took another pause when he lost sight of the tracks, scanning the area to find where they connected. To his right, he heard the faded rustle of vegetation being disturbed like something threading through the forest. He wasn’t quite sure if it was an animal moving away from him or possibly the hellhound.
“Levi?”
The noise stopped.
Erwin waited and strained his hearing to help distinguish the source. A part of him wanted to walk towards the noise with hopes Levi had gone for a stroll and got mixed up on the way back. A foolishly optimistic explanation, especially when there was no response to Erwin’s call. The other part of him warned that if he went toward the sound and it wasn’t Levi, then he’d have a hell of a time trying to find Levi’s footprints again.
The rustling returned, now sounding like it was coming closer. But no voice called out. He found it difficult to judge the distance, as one moment it seemed to be right beside him and the next it was very faint as if moving away.
“Levi? It’s Erwin. Are you there?”
His flashlight picked up the movement of autumn-bare branches that gave way to a familiar face, emerged like an apparition through the gloom. Erwin’s mind wanted to sigh in relief, but his body instinctively seized up; lungs going dead and hiding all oxygen inside. The sight before him coaxed the urge for his scythe, but Erwin didn’t react outside of his eyes widening and lips going slack.
Blood caked the lower half of Levi’s face, trailing down his neck and bare chest. Almost black ichor clung from fingertips to elbows like silk opera gloves, appearing a recognizable claret red when the light bathed down the grim’s body.
The morbid sight sent a shock of panic into Erwin’s chest, releasing him from the frozen state so he could close the distance and check for injuries, but as he came to a halt a few feet away, Erwin realized that he’d been mistaken. There were no signs of wounds on Levi.... Not unless his healing abilities were lightning quick, but Erwin had witnessed that not being the case. And—more alarming—Levi barely reacted at all to Erwin’s sudden approach, still not having uttered a single word or reflected a hint of emotion. In fact, his pallor was ghostlike amongst the mist, and there was an aggressive shiver that wracked his frame.
Daring to examine him a little closer--while not breaching some invisible barrier created by a warning voice in his head--Erwin dragged the light from Levi’s bare, mud-coated feet to the beyond redeemable stained pajama pants, sinewy abdomen above the low hanging waistband, blood-stained chest, and finally the hauntingly vacant gaze.
“Levi?” Erwin was suddenly lost on how to handle this.
Levi was... not okay, by any means. That was obvious. But was he half asleep? The way his eyes dragged across anything in front of him, unfocused and not really seeing, told Erwin that it was a good guess. It was as if Levi hadn’t even processed Erwin was standing in front of him. There was no recognition, no consideration or calculation. It was a look that belonged to something empty and bent. Not the vigilant and sharp-tempered grim he’d come to familiarize himself with.
He didn’t think Levi was in the middle of a sleepwalking episode. Not completely, at least—although what did he know? Erwin was a far cry from a subject matter expert. All that aside, this seemed like the result of something else. Something wrong and twisted.
Taking a risk, Erwin cautiously stepped closer, feeling his grip on the flashlight tighten in preparation for a violent reply as he set a hand on Levi’s shoulder. The touch was excruciatingly simple, but it had Erwin compressing his jaw.
Levi didn’t respond in the slightest. His skin was like ice and Erwin realized there were faint whirls of steam coming from the damp layers of blood. The panic that hadn’t fully subsided swelled again as Erwin’s grip squeezed, overpowering the self-preservation warning against the firm shake he gave the grim.
“What happened, Levi?” he demanded with all the calmness he could muster.
There wasn’t even a flinch from the man, and that was more alarming and telling of his mental state. But at least, it finally got some sort of response from him.
“Sorry,” Levi muttered weakly, starring unfocused at Erwin’s chin. “... I was hungry.”
Erwin’s stomach felt like it had summersaulted right then, jostling other organs beside it with little care.
Levi was most definitely in a fragile state. He felt like an ass for thinking the grim had run away when clearly this was something far more serious. But now wasn’t the time to reflect on that. All the warnings from Hange and Mike were adding fuel to the fire of his doubt and overwhelming confusion—not at all providing any roadmap on how to handle the situation next.
Can’t rely on others to manage your brash decisions for you. Get your head together and fix this.
Erwin inhaled sharply, unintentionally taking in the scent of bitter iron and loam. Levi needed help, and it was Erwin’s responsibility to provide it. One layer of this crisis at a time.
Adopting a false sense of composure, he nodded understandably to Levi’s explanation, uncertain whether Levi was absorbing his reactions or unable to process it.
“That’s alright. It’s not your fault for being hungry,” he consoled, feeling his throat tighten at what Levi meant by that with drying blood coating his face. “What did you eat?”
Levi tilted his chin over his shoulder to gaze longingly at the shadows beyond the nearest trees. “Didn’t have a choice... I was... hungry.”
The reaper couldn’t smother the frown that hooked his lips, couldn’t keep the unfathomable discipline from cracking. Lifting his hand from Levi’s shoulder to guide his face to look at him, cupping his cheek with all the fragility of a broken teacup, he tried to pierce through the grim’s glossed over gaze.
“I understand, Levi. It’s good that you were able to eat,” God—what did you eat? “I told you before that I don’t want you to go hungry.”
Despite his outward reassurances, his mind continued to conjure morbid imagery to explain the nightmarish situation before him. Demanding answers or reprimanding Levi was the last thing he should do; he knew that with absolute certainty. Forcing the man from this... whatever this was--would likely push Levi into a panic or even an aggressive feedback loop. He had to keep Levi present and pliable until he could find out what was going on first, then fix it from there.
“Please show me where you came from,” he ventured gently. “Can you do that?”
Levi nodded while looking impossibly small in presence, turning the way he came as if it was a path he’d taken a million times. Erwin followed with the flashlight aimed at the ground in front of them to avoid obstacles, although his gaze remained anchored to Levi’s back.
He was convinced this was some mental break from Levi’s trauma, not a mere sleepwalking episode. It was just understanding what triggered it and... why? Why didn’t Levi just go to the refrigerator like anyone else and make a midnight sandwich? Why the fuck, in all things holy and otherwise, was he in the middle of the forest, covered in blood?
As they walked, he noticed the footprints had returned and what few he saw were quickly replaced by the deeper imprints of massive paw prints. So, Levi had shifted at some point, confirming Erwin’s suspicions that he had found something, or someone, to hunt. It was only a short distance further when Levi drew to a stop to stare ahead.
“Is it over there?” Erwin prodded carefully.
Levi’s gaze dropped, chin dipping away. “I. I couldn’t starve.”
Some irrational spark of frustration reared its vile head, almost making Erwin snap at him that he wasn’t starving—that Erwin made sure he ate regular meals, so why did he do this? What part of Erwin cooking for them translated to Levi starving?!
But that was the fear talking. And Erwin was not accustomed to feeling a strong foreign emotion so unexpectedly. The sense of being wholly lost on what to do was equivalent to suffocating for the reaper. Plus, if he was going to point fingers, he needed to own up to his own mistakes. While he had made sure to cook meals for them, the day before they had skipped lunch, and Levi was too exhausted thanks to that blocker injection to wake up for the drive-thru.
For all Erwin knew, the combination of socialization at GSIS, the attack from the vampires, and missed meals could’ve triggered whatever this situation was.
Gathering his nerve, Erwin ventured alone in the direction Levi indicated, hoping he wasn’t about to find a lone hiker or one of his neighbors. Occasionally, at that time of year when bear hunting season ended, it wasn’t uncommon for poachers to venture into rural forests to try their luck before winter. But surely, they would’ve fired a gunshot at Levi if he attacked. Then again, if Levi first approached them in his human form, perhaps not. Their targets were deer or bear, not something they perceived as human.
Erwin couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being stalked by his own shadow, as if he weren’t the one casting it. It didn’t matter that he was accustomed to death, there was still a level of anticipation of what he would find that had his nerves jittery beneath his calm façade.
When he approached a shrub, the beam of light speared through the stems and caught the crimsons splashes dripping from the leaves. Erwin took a steady breath and walked around to find what he knew would be a body, only to meet one that was gutted with a bitemark on the neck and an ear that had been ripped clean off.
It was a doe—thank Gods.
Large and prime of life with plenty of meat. The eyes were wide and marbled in death, sitting in her rolled-over head, with her neck snapped. The barrel of the deer had been clawed open and Erwin frowned while he treaded closer to the ichor coagulating in the sparse grass and dried fir needles. Careful to not step on any splatter, he tried to breathe through his mouth but failed to block the foul odor. The organs had spilled out of their broken ivory cage with a distinctly missing heart and liver not amongst the slimy pile. Some of the remaining entrails were removed completely or burst from the vicious assault and already, insects were attracted to the viscera mound.
Erwin knew the solidness of bone. Knew the intense force needed to break it with bare hands. No mortal man could do it. The one responsible for the animalistic carnage was somewhere at Erwin’s back, not entirely conscious, but dazed, sending the hairs on the back of his neck on end.
Erwin straightened and looked over his shoulder. Levi hadn’t come along with him and was somewhere just out of sight, hopefully waiting for Erwin to return. It was probably best not to leave him for too long in that state, where he could hurt himself or others if he came back to awareness in a bad way.
Placated that Levi had only killed a deer and not human, Erwin left the carcass and retraced his steps. When he found the grim, he was in the same area, though he was leaning against a tree and staring blankly at his hand while the other was lifted to his mouth, chewing on the saddle of his thumb. The blood smeared further around his lips by the action while the dried bits flaked off and disappeared into the foliage by his feet.
As Erwin emerged beside him, Levi tilted his eyes up, watching and waiting for a specific reaction. But Erwin had no idea what Levi was anticipating from him, nor how awake he was. There was still a vacancy that glossed his eyes, a shadow that hovered relentlessly as if refusing to release its hold. What was Levi expecting from Erwin in that state?
Praise? Contempt? Scorn?
Erwin raked a hand through his sleep mused hair, closing his eyes as he took deep breaths to school his features.
“Has the food I’ve provided you so far been inadequate?” When Levi only stared at him, he pressed, “Or is this something else, Levi?”
He kept his voice low, lest the dead heard them and decided to plague Erwin. He could not deal with stuck souls right now when he had a semi-cognizant Grim covered in blood.
“You haven’t done this before,” he stated with a bit more firmness.
Levi finally tore his gaze away.
Instead of turning it into an interrogation, Erwin decided to give Levi a little more time to fully return to sentience before he asked again. Because there was no chance that he’d allow the subject to drop and be swept aside out of fear of upsetting Levi.
It was a deer this time. But if it happened again...
Erwin had zero desire to wake up to find a starving Levi standing over the sofa in the middle of the night, or his neighbor dragged through the woods and mutilated. SRC and laws aside, this felt like a significantly serious and dangerous matter. As Hange mentioned, a ticking bomb.
“Let’s go back inside, hm? We’ll get you cleaned up.”
Maybe ushering him to the house and a warm bath would help Levi fully awaken. Meanwhile, Erwin could use the time to process his thoughts and figure out what to do from there.
***
Levi came back to himself halfway through Erwin wiping his cheeks with a damp rag. They were standing in the bathroom with the faucet filling the tub, steaming the tight space with a fragrance of eucalyptus. He could just make out a thick cloud of bubbles resting over the surface and his brows pinched together, wondering if this was a hallucination or a dream.
Erwin was saying something to him, but his words were jumbled in his clouded mind, and Levi was far too confused to find a response. His mouth tasted foul like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in days and instead swallowed rank beach sand. A faint metallic tang sat at the back of his throat, which brought the nightmarish images that had haunted him before finding himself in the bathroom.
There was a scream. Desperate, high-pitched pleas that echoed faintly in the distance. It was impossible to tell if that was happening in his mind or if there really was someone crying for help outside the room. He wanted to mention it to Erwin, ask if he heard that too, but then he blinked...
***
His eyes fluttered as he felt his shoulders involuntarily sag in relief. When he opened them again, he realized he must have lost time because he was no longer standing against the sink but was inside the bathtub.
What the fuck? Was he blacking out?
The usual panic that wanted to emerge was tamed by the way his body relaxed. Soft scented steam clung to Levi’s skin and the hot water felt sinfully good, coaxing his muscle to dissolve beneath the bubbly surface on their own accord.
He could drift off right there. Could rest his head against the edge and try to submerge beneath all the colliding thoughts trying to overwhelm his mind. Well... he could, if there wasn’t another presence hovering in the room with him with that recognizable broad frame.
It was safe to assume Erwin was responsible for putting him inside the tub, further confirmed by the floaty fabric of his boxers still clinging to Levi unexpectedly in the water. The shifter wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, still reeling from the nightmare. A part of him questioned why he wasn’t more concerned with being practically naked in Erwin’s presence—or that Erwin had readily taken it upon himself to strip Levi of his pants. Even more so that his memory was hop-scotching around without his control.
Did Erwin hear him yelling out from the nightmare, so he came to wake him up? Had he thought Levi needed a bath to soothe his rattled nerves after the haunting dream? The last time he woke Levi up, he’d gifted him a warm blanket as a sense of comfort. For all he knew, this was just another method of Erwin’s to help settle him down.
As for putting him in a tub with boxers... that was weird, right? Or was that polite? It wasn’t like the bubbles weren’t doing their job hiding Levi’s modesty, but maybe the prim-and-proper reaper was bashful like that. It seemed strange to think about. Even stranger to not question it more.
“What happened?” Levi asked, finding his voice hoarse and scratchy. “Did I wake you up?”
Erwin froze at the sink where he was rinsing something off, lifting his head to gaze at the mirrored image of Levi. There was a distinctly closed off sternness to the reaper’s expression. An unexpected barrier that made Levi feel as if he was being kept at arm’s length or had disappointed the man somehow.
That bad, huh?
“You’re back with me?” Erwin asked, breaking the visual connection in favor of going back to rinsing what looked like a hand towel. He turned the tap off and wrung the fabric out, opening it afterwards to drape across the ledge.
Levi wasn’t sure how to answer the question, though suspected it had something to do with the strange time skips after waking up.
“I guess,” he replied ambiguously.
Erwin hummed his acknowledgement but didn’t turn around right away. It gave Levi a moment to gather his thoughts, to consider how he felt given the unknown circumstances. Any other time, he would be ordering Erwin out or demanding an explanation on what gave the reaper the right to strip him down and plop him in the bath.
But Levi was comfortable and soothed under the water. He didn’t think he could move, even if he wanted to.
Erwin finally turned around and kneeled beside the tub like it was natural to be that close to Levi when he was so vulnerable. He rolled up the sleeves to his sweater and grabbed the bristly wash sponge on the ledge to pour liquid soap onto.
Levi eyed it warily, wondering if Erwin would dare help himself to wash the grim so freely. Surely, he wasn’t that stupid.
“What time is it?” Levi inquired, hoping to distract him from finding out.
“Just after 2 in the morning.”
He felt his eyes widen.
“Shit... Sorry about that,” he replied, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought back on his dreams again. Levi really needed to get a better hold of his nightmares. No wonder Erwin was moody. He was probably getting fed up with the rude wakeups. “I’ll wash really quick and go back to the room--”
“I’d feel better if I stayed,” Erwin insisted in a way that brook no argument. “It’d be negligent of me to leave you alone in this state.”
Levi’s brows knitted together as he tried to make sense of Erwin’s explanation. There was something about it that tugged at his attention, but he felt far too sluggish to untangle it. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”
Erwin fixed him with an unmoving stare. It was so hard to get a read on him. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll clean you up while you try to recollect what happened. I don’t want you to focus on anything else but that. Then, you may tell me what you can.”
“What?”
Instead of answering, Erwin returned with another question, “What do you think happened to lead to this point of us being here? In the bathroom.”
What did he mean? Levi scowled, eyes darting around the room as if he’d find the answer there before returning to Erwin’s stoney stare.
“I had a nightmare. You came to wake me, I guess, and put me in the tub when that didn’t work.” Even though it was said in a statement, the ends curled up in a hesitant question.
Erwin reached a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, looking exhausted. “I need you to try recalling anything you can since I helped you out of the car last night. Please don’t leave out any details.”
The reaper dipped the sponge into the water and rubbed it together to lather, then he brought it down onto Levi’s chest where the shifter stiffened. Erwin’s ministrations were careful and unintrusive despite Levi not granting him verbal permission. It travelled methodically up and down, prickling Levi’s skin and made the bubbles slosh atop the water, and the non-threatening practice was enough to let his protests rest unspoken on his tongue.
The gentle scratching of the sponge felt soothing, yet it was worrying that the urge to resist the touch was nowhere to be found. Maybe the drug was still in his system, and he underestimated the strength of it. Or perhaps it was something else entirely that he just couldn’t name, therefore couldn’t compartmentalize.
“When you’re ready, Levi,” Erwin prompted.
Right. He wasn’t here to enjoy this. The sooner he explained whatever had Erwin feeling the need to dote on him, the sooner Levi could have a moment in private. Because, yes, that was what he needed. A moment to collect his thoughts, to reclaim his autonomy and fully extract from the tendrils of his nightmare.
“I remember getting to bed and all of that, even if it’s a bit hazy.” He trailed off as he internally approached the edges of his nightmare. There was a fleeting thought of lying to Erwin by saying he didn’t remember it, but the way it hung behind his eyelids, the faint taste of blood and something stuck on his back molar frightened him enough to swallow his pride. He didn’t have to be completely honest. “I... I had a dream. Bad one.”
Erwin waited for him to continue, sliding the sponge over his shoulders and past a knot that had Levi flinching. The hand froze for a second before resuming down the curve of his bicep before Erwin set it on the edge of the tub and began kneading the knot with practiced fingers.
Panicking slightly, Levi leaned away, shrugging his shoulder in hopes of dislodging Erwin’s hand from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Keeping you grounded,” he replied, though kept his eyes on the curve of Levi’s shoulder and neck. “Please continue.”
Rolling his eyes, Levi considered arguing or shoving Erwin away, but relented when he saw the pink tint in the water running from the darker suds of his chest. It was just from the body wash. Not blood. Couldn’t be, he told himself.
Swallowing hard, he reluctantly continued, keeping most details vague. “It was about my time under Tybur...” he trailed momentarily, considering the consequences of Erwin learning the truth. “But--I don’t know. I mean--it didn’t make much sense. Dreams don’t. Not usually.”
“Tell me what you do remember.”
“It’s choppy and broken. I don’t remember much of it. Just that I was in the cell.”
“Then explain the broken details. I just need something to understand what happened.”
“It was a nightmare. They aren’t supposed to make sense, Smith. No fucking second meaning or whatever shit, ok? Just a fucked-up dream.”
“Nightmares are closer to reality than many think,” he countered relentlessly, fingers nudging a little harder into the knot again, turning almost painful. “Details, Levi. No matter how small. Tell me.”
“It’s not that fucking easy,” Levi snapped, finally batting Erwin’s arm away as he leveled him with a glare. “What the fuck is your problem anyway? You’re not entitled to my dreams, so screw off already.”
Erwin’s closed off gaze dropped like a mask and unfolded in a way that indicated the patience was just as false as his calmness. “Is that so? Then what did you mean when you apologized and said you did it because you were hungry? Hm, Levi? Because you ‘couldn’t starve’--I believe was your justification. So, how do you explain that?”
Levi felt his veins turn to ice. He said... what?
Hungry. Starving. The words circled like vultures scenting carrion in his mind, and if Erwin noticed his wide-eyed gaze, he did not show him mercy as he pressed on.
“Why did I find you outside in the middle of the night covered in blood? And a deer with missing organs. Don’t insult me with that sorry excuse that it was just a dream when you killed something as a result. Tell me why, Levi?”
“Stop,” he whispered too quiet to be taken as a demand. He felt his breath stutter in his chest, turning shallow and quick.
“What was your dream about? Were you hunting? Did Tybur make you hunt for your food?”
“Stop,” his voice was a little louder, but it wavered precariously on the edge, threatening to shatter.
“Don’t lie to me, Levi. This isn’t a game—you killed a deer, but what if it was something else? A person, for God’s sake? Do you have any idea what that would mean for yo--”
“Shut up!” Levi clenched his eyes and pinned his hands to his ears. The sloshing of water hit the edges of the tub as he jerked his knees to his chest and curled inwards. “Shut up! Shut up!”
He anticipated Erwin grabbing him by his nape or his hair and wrenching Levi up to look at him. Maybe a hand to his throat and choke him into submission, even shoving him under water until Levi was desperate for air and clinging to the arm that held him down. There was no way his defiance would go unpunished, and a tiny voice in his head—one born under Tybur’s hand—told him to just answer the reaper. To do it because it wouldn’t lead to pain and abuse. Because: aren’t you tired of being punished into submission? Just give in and tell him what he wants to hear. You’ll be left alone afterwards.
Sucking in air, Levi tried to untangle from the burst of panic, but he was so fucking confused. The blood, the accusations of the deer—it couldn’t be a lie. Erwin said Levi told him it was because of hunger. There’s no way the reaper would know to make that up. But what did that mean? What did that mean? That Levi was crazy? That he would be put down? That Erwin wouldn’t risk his life—his reputation to help him? Would he be arrested and charged with multiple counts of murder before being euthanized?
Shut-up, shut-up!
He felt he was spiraling, and the lack of pain was only shoving him further off that steep ledge of his control. He almost yearned for the punishment. For the grounding agony to enter his body, set his nerves alight, and yank him from his thoughts. Maybe there was a method to Tybur’s cruel actions after all.
But before he could twist his nails into his scalp and inflict his own pain, he felt fingers not his own brushing over the back of his knuckles, drifting slowly to his wrists to coax his hands away from his head with enough force to be successful.
“I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin’s apologetic voice dripped into his ear with gentle sincerity.
He didn’t open his eyes yet, but he allowed Erwin to hold his wrists in his hands while he listened, desperate for anything to pull him from the internal drowning. Maybe Erwin would snap a finger or two. That wouldn’t be so bad to heal from, and the pain would be sharp enough to work.
“I didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. It was wrong of me to let my emotions take over. I’m sorry,” he cajoled, thumbs rubbing circles on the back of Levi's hands.
Wait?... He was apologizing?
“This evening has startled me, though that’s a bit of an understatement. But despite my rudeness, I’m trying to understand what set you off, so I can help. In no way, was I trying to reprimand you for things outside of your control.”
Levi inhaled a shaky breath, hating the faint tremble of his limbs. When he still didn’t respond, Erwin’s voice deposited further in his ears with the familiar patience he always adopted.
“Are you with me still? Try to stay with me, Levi. Don’t drift away.”
Levi opened his eyes and immediately saw the stained red that was under his nails and stuck in his cuticles. There was no denying that Erwin was telling the truth between that and the copper residue on his tongue. It scared him to realize what that meant. The fact his body went on some autopilot killing stroll after a nightmare without any recollection after waking or moving. As if his life wasn’t already a fucked-up mess, now it was actively working against him. Another thing that Tybur stollen.
Levi closed his eyes again and pulled his wrists free. He ducked his face into his hands and tried to block Erwin out along with the sting of tears. He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Erwin.
Hard lessons of reality were going to continue to come for him—he knew that-- but it had always been something to worry about later. Right now, it seemed to find him with his pants down—ironically enough. There was no pushing it off any longer; he needed to deal with the current confirmation of his blatant lack of control. Levi had always been able to shrug off tragedy and keep pushing onward. But this time was different. This time, he wasn’t sure how long it would take to gather himself back together.
“Levi, I--,” Erwin cut himself off, then carefully placed his hand to the shifter’s nape to knead and soothe as he waited for Levi to compose himself.
The touch was tentative and shy, but the gradual calming circles helped Levi to settle. It was dizzyingly pleasant, almost apologetic in the way Erwin’s fingers inched into the short edges of his hair and back down, trying to ease the tension beneath his stretched skin.
Tired and resigned, Levi surrendered himself to Erwin’s care, realizing that there wasn’t any real way of hiding all the fucked-up things wrong with him. Not when his body was working against him and doing it regardless. He felt sickeningly betrayed by himself.
Cracking his eyes open and letting his arms fall into the water, he watched as Erwin’s other hand returned to his wrist, brushing over it tenderly. The entire situation was oddly intimate while staying respectful of boundaries. It didn’t feel like there was ill-intent behind the touches or that Erwin was trying to take advantage. In fact, as Levi slouched against the back of the tub, the reaper seemed to relax as well, as if he’d been waiting for any sign of reciprocation from Levi, probably dreading the alternative violent retaliation.
“Will you tell me about it, Levi? Anything you can share would assist me in better helping you.”
It was a soft request now, instead of demands, but Levi had already given up after Erwin revealed the events. He knew he’d have to tell Erwin whatever he could manage if he wanted to prevent a repeat. This was not something he could stop on his own and he hated himself for having to rely on someone else. But all things considering, so far Erwin didn’t seem like a bad guy. There were worse people to put faith in that would turn his weakness against him. And even when Levi had given Erwin so many reasons to raise a hand or punish him, the reaper never did. Instead, he’d shocked Levi time and again with decent kindness that seemed so foreign and uncanny.
So, after a few deep breaths to gather his nerves, Levi gave him the abridged recap of Tybur’s twisted punishments toward enemy vampires, omitting the humans tossed in or any other sick tricks that had shattered Levi’s will for days afterwards. The vampires Levi was forced to kill and eat seemed relevant enough—perhaps even important given his unreserved prejudice against their presence.
He vaguely implied his nightmare was a recurrence of one of his victims, though did not dare admit it was a human this time. Whether her death could be tallied as his or Tybur’s, he wasn’t entirely sure. In those instances, Tybur was the coordinator and Levi the executioner. Both held responsibility at the end of the day.
During the recap, he refused to look Erwin in the eye, either idly swishing the bubbles around or slowly working on cleaning beneath his fingernails. Erwin, meanwhile, never broke contact with him. One hand kept busy on the back of his shoulders or neck, the other alternating between scrubbing slow languid strips down his arms and chest.
When he finished, Erwin was quiet for a long time, digesting the explanation until finally nodding.
“You may not agree with what I’m about to say, but I think it’s the best option until we can work through some of your past together.”
Levi finally looked to Erwin, waiting for him to continue. The reaper’s gaze softened after earning Levi’s attention, his expression opened once more rather than the marbled coldness a short while ago.
“I’d feel better if we slept in the same room for the foreseeable future,” he explained. “It’ll increase the chances of me waking if this occurs again, in which case I can try to wake you up from the episode. I don’t mind letting you sleep on the sofa, and I’ll take the floor.”
Levi shook his head in disagreement, watching Erwin appear momentarily crestfallen from Levi’s refusal. But it abruptly recovered after hearing Levi’s response, “Keep the couch. I don’t mind the floor. I’ll be more comfortable there anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
Erwin didn’t press further, seemingly pleased with having Levi’s agreement. “Alright, if you’re ready to get out, I’ll pull more bedding from the closet and get you a change of clothes.”
Absently, Levi nodded, looking away as Erwin stood up and grabbed a towel for him. He accepted it, but didn’t stand up, despite the soggy boxers still clinging to his waist. “Do you, er... mind giving me a moment?”
“Of course. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything and bring some clothes. Are you alright if I start the fireplace?”
“Sure.”
After a lingering look, Erwin left him alone, quietly shutting the door before Levi hauled himself out and pulled the drain.
He felt so confused.
Curling his legs to his chest on the bathroom floor, forehead to his knees and hands fisted in his hair, Levi recalled the dream again. The details he fabricated and kept to himself replayed behind his eyes with the very much human woman crying out to not be left alone with him.
At the time, he didn’t feel guilty. It was survival for him and mercy for her. No matter how many times he refused and dug his heels in, the hunger pains were relentless, feeling like he was harboring a blackhole that sucked him in a little more each day. It was better for both that it happened the way it did, and Levi even went for her throat to make it as quick as possible.
Yet apparently, his sensibility carried guilt he hadn’t felt in decades. It made him sorry all over again, and he wanted to tell her he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have to. It was never personal.
She was food. She was life.
Levi hurriedly got onto his knees and flipped the toilet lid up. Hanging his head over the seat, he tried to will his stomach to purge its contents, despite knowing what he just ate wasn’t human. He needed it, needed to vomit his sins and the haunting voice still ringing in his ears.
Nothing came up.
***
Erwin was ashamed it took two days.
Two days to properly compartmentalize the night and Levi’s staggering recollection from his time with Tybur.
Shock. Anger. Searching for a logical explanation to the madness. When that didn’t work, withdrawing to his thoughts. And finally, two days later, Erwin accepted it. He chose to push past Levi’s resolve in hiding the facts, learned what Erwin knew was only a sliver of the truth, and came out the other end of his five-stages of denial feeling weighted with knowledge. Go figure.
All this to say, he grossly underestimated Tybur’s level of sadism.
While the crime scenes he’d witnessed with GSIS were nothing to sneeze at, sinister and grisly as the next tormented mind, there was a distinct difference between a twisted individual who was a product of their environment from a young age, and someone inherently happy to partake in elevating vile acts to the next extreme. A case of the nurture versus nature argument which was no stranger to behaviorists for the past decades.
Most surprising was that Tybur didn’t even hold a sense of loyalty to his own kind, sending them to their deaths via Levi’s cage in the name of the clan’s advancement. Just what sort of fucked up mind would think--
No... He needed to calm down or he’d get worked up again.
There were instances in the last 48 hours when he almost reached out to Mike or Hange; to share what he learned and hope for a soundboard to keep him from circling repeatedly through his frustrations. His temper was no longer aimed at Levi, but even knowing part of the truth, he didn’t feel any less disoriented. In the end, he kept it to himself, focusing his efforts on navigating the new fragile atmosphere between him and the shifter.
Sharing the living room was a slight adjustment. Levi had taken to staging his bedding in front of the fireplace, but every morning when Erwin woke, he’d find him in the canine form, curled beside the couch. It startled him the first time—and by that he meant he swore he got airborne from the cushions for a split second. He almost forgot how intimidating the otherworldly image cut in the lowlight of sunrays, especially when Erwin was half-drunk in sleep.
There was a fleeting consideration of having them move into Erwin’s bedroom where they could be more comfortable, however he hadn’t worked up the nerve to introduce the offer. Truthfully, he was hesitant for things to become even more awkward between them, plus he didn’t have the desire to contemplate if he’d be content with Levi sleeping on the floor still. Sharing a bed felt like a barrier that neither were in the mindset to discuss, no matter how innocent the reason, so he shelved the idea for the future.
Who knows. Perhaps everything would work out and that night was just a fluke. Maybe they wouldn’t ever reach the point of sharing an actual room.
A tiny fragment was a little disheartened by that thought, but he did well not to look too closely at it.
With no GSIS tasks assigned on his time off, Erwin dedicated the days to researching rehabilitation facilities, reading through each one with a critical amount of detail. The scrutiny was methodical; examining past client reviews, the basis of the companies’ training methods, and the alternative medicines used. If it wasn’t daunting before, it certainly was now after the 2 a.m. wake up and Levi’s zombified hunting excursion. Whoever kept raising the difficulty level in his personal world really needed to have their hands chopped off.
Eventually, Erwin found two potential facilities that seemed less rigid in their curriculum. When he brought it up to Levi, it was with great hesitancy on his part that was hidden beneath the faux everything is fine air.
Everything was not fine.
They had hardly spoken to each other. Nothing outside of a few polite questions and surface level discussions. Anything pertaining to the past, the coven, or Levi personally, was mutually avoided.
Forget the elephant. It took up space in every room they shared like a bloody whale. And while he knew dodging wasn’t a healthy way of coping, he truly feared making things worse if he tried to approach the subject. He lost his composure once already with Levi, and Erwin was still choking on the remorse from it. Regardless of his own dilemma, Erwin brought up that one of the rehabs had an open appointment to determine if they were a good fit. And Levi thankfully listened without protest.
Erwin was selfish thinking that way, but part of him was a tad grateful for the nightmare triggering the trauma. Not only did it give him insight on what to expect when it came to the grim, but it seemed to be the right amount of scare to gain Levi’s unquestioning compliance. Easier to convince him to participate in the trainings.
On the other hand—and this was the concerning part—Erwin was becoming discomfited that it set Levi back much further than either were prepared for. While he continued to participate in discussions, Levi was frequently despondent and spacey. Many times, Erwin would look across the room or the kitchen and Levi would be staring straight ahead, face empty. It wasn’t the sort of half-dazed, harmless look either. Something about it sent the nerves down Erwin’s vertebrae tingling, putting him on edge with creeping anxiety.
So, with very little convincing, Erwin scheduled the orientation with the rehab for the next morning, which was where he found himself currently, wondering once more what he got himself into.
Erwin kept his stride modulated to not get ahead of Levi. The wary approach to the front door was evident just as Levi’s eyes scurried from one place to the next, searching for threats with the regularly scheduled wariness. Punctual as ever.
“I gave them an explanation of your response to vampires over the phone yesterday. I told the admission staff that we suspect it’s an effect from conditioning that’s outside of your control and she assured me she would inform the counselor whom we’re meeting,” Erwin trailed from the discussion in the car, hoping to quiet Levi’s nerves. “She said they would keep the halls clear while we’re inside, so we shouldn’t have any unexpected run-ins.”
Levi grunted his acknowledgement; hands shoved inside the pockets of the hoody while he hunched his chin lower. His body language screamed anxious and submissive to Erwin, but he remembered with clarity Mike’s statement of it being a false display. A ruse to not raise concerns and encourage peoples’ attention to slide off him.
A good strategy, Erwin had to give him that as he could say even he fell for it. He speculated if it was a purposeful gesture or if the trauma from Tybur created that response unintentionally. Whatever the case was, he hoped that maybe some good could come from one of these rehabilitation organizations. The reaper was far from being a qualified expert on handling victim suffering and recovery, and the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse. It’d be a win if the rehab actually pulled through in aiding rather than being solely an obstacle. Levi was overdue for some good things going his way.
Coming to a pause at the door, Erwin considered any last second encouragement or praise he could offer Levi for agreeing to the appointment when he knew how difficult it was. But all his usual bravado and rally-inducing speeches left him high and dry.
“If it gets too much for you, let me know,” he settled on, successfully holding Levi’s gaze for a whole two seconds before it skittered away. “I’m on your side, remember? We’re a team. Don’t force yourself through anything that makes you uncomfortable for the sake of it. We can find someplace else to try if this doesn’t work.”
“We don’t exactly have the time to be sampling these shitholes,” Levi frowned, eyeing his reflection in the glass doors.
He wasn’t wrong. Their personally assigned caseworker would be calling any day to schedule an introduction and start asking about progress. So far, Erwin would say they haven’t made much at all. Not in WMC’s eyes that is.
Levi swept his hood off despite Erwin knowing he only did it to not alarm anyone inside. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ll manage.”
“Don’t push your limits,” Erwin advised. “Everyone has a line that shouldn’t be crossed and they’re usually there for a reason. Listen to it. Remember, you have the choice to end the meeting if it needs ending.”
Levi didn’t look convinced as his scowl darkened.
Taking that as his cue Levi was done talking, Erwin opened the front door to a cheery chime, allowing Levi to enter before he followed. The lobby was empty, given the early hours, and the young man at the front desk greeted them as he set his phone aside.
“Good morning, and welcome in. How can I help you today?”
“Checking in for our orientation. Erwin Smith.”
“Ok, perfect,” the man reviewed the computer screen briefly before pushing a number on the phone. With only a few words, he reported their arrival to whoever they were meeting. Once the man hung up the phone, he addressed Erwin again. “Your counselor today is Amanda Davey. She’ll be here shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Erwin stepped away from the counter to not hover, but he didn’t make for an empty chair. The straight edge to Levi’s figure indicated he was in no mood to sit, and Erwin wasn’t going to make him stand alone.
The door to the back opened and a smartly dressed woman docked her gaze on them. Her eyes met Erwin’s immediately, and a smile curled from plump burgundy lips. A statement color that was bold for most workplaces, but Erwin couldn’t fault her on having a personal touch to her appearance in what he imagined was a strict profession. Her attention slid to Levi who eyed her through his lashes with his head down. It was a look that could either be taken as shy or threatening.
Thank gods, the woman seemed to take it as the former.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith. I’m Amanda and I’ll be taking you around our facilities today. Please, come on through.”
Erwin slipped on a pleasant smile and went into the next corridor with Levi staying on his heels. Upon closing them into the hall, she passed another appraising glance over Levi before glancing at the tablet in hand and gesturing them to follow. It didn't escape Erwin's notice that she hadn't offered a greeting to Levi, but he suspected that was usual protocol given the purpose of the clinic. Still, it was unbearably rude.
“I see that you reported your wolven is a rescue,” she broached conversationally.
“That’s correct.” He wasn’t going to delve into details. Announcing Levi was pulled from an illegal fighting ring would not benefit them in the slightest. “We’re hoping to find a facility that has a personalized approach to training rather than a cookie-cutter curriculum. I’ve seen your company has been praised for that level of commitment which brought us here.”
A bit of polite flattery probably wouldn’t hurt to build a rapport.
Amanada nodded, lips turning upward with pride. “That is one of our biggest objectives. We strive to customize our approach with each wolven we receive. Even the rescued ones.”
In the corner of Erwin’s eye, he saw Levi’s head turn sharply at that comment. The reaper hadn’t missed it either.
“Do you commonly administer training to rescues?”
“Well, that depends on the definition of rescue. Per WMC, it’s a wolven without historical documentation who was pulled from illegal ownership circumstances. Usually with bloodlines that aren’t recognized or verified through the government. In those cases, it’s not as common. But for wolvens pulled from shelters with papers, then yes. Those are more frequent.”
She glanced at the screen as they continued to walk down the white walls and plastic sideboards, abstract pictures hung between shut doors with placards to staff offices.
“I see that your wolven has no family history and has not had a temperament assessment done yet. Is that correct?"
“A temperament assessment?”
“Yes. Usually, they go through a series of evaluations to assess a wolven's emotional and behavioral characteristics, often to determine their suitability for companionship, adoption, or if they’re considered safe around children. These tests can help identify potentially undesirable traits like aggression, shyness, or extreme fear.”
Erwin smothered the frown trying to form. He knew what he was in for when he proposed this path to Levi, but in the few days secluded away from WMC talk, he’d forgotten how degrading it was for the wolven community. Regardless, they had to keep up appearances and play their roles.
“I don’t believe he’s had one.”
Amanada nodded thoughtfully, typing something into the tablet. “As a counselor, it’s my job to assess your wolven’s needs and collaborate with our psychiatrics and instructors to build a plan. I can say, by your description of his shyness with vampires, we already have a therapy proposal for cases such as that.”
“Oh?” That sounded promising if they’ve worked situations like Levi’s before. Erwin checked on the man beside him who was eyeing each door they passed. “What is it, exactly?”
“Desensitization. It’s a pretty standard procedure that we’ve been successful at. Abuse is sadly common and wolvens coming from shelters are likely to have aversions to certain things or people.”
“And what does the process entail?”
“If you’d like, I can demonstrate it for you. I won’t actually run the session through, but it’ll paint a clear picture so you’re fully aware.”
Another useless glance to try to catch Levi's gaze proved Erwin was on his own. “Yes. I think we’d like to see.”
Amanda looked pleased as she turned down a hall that held various classrooms, similar to the training annex Erwin had pulled Levi from. It brought back the memory of Levi being bound inside the tight cage that was fortified with a live current while various vampire staff were in the room. He felt frown return but otherwise kept his displeasure from showcasing his thoughts.
“You mentioned a temperament test. How is that conducted?”
“It’s a combination of hands-on and observation. We’ll place a wolven in various environments such as a classroom, our cafeteria, the garden, and so on with staff and other wolvens. It’s a way to assess social interactions where we look at signs of stability or aggression. Then there’s the middle ground tests like stimuli to sounds and smells, maybe even reaching for food and such to determine resource guarding or other specific traits. And finally, the hands-on that include their response to being handled, touched in different ways to reveal their comfort level and potential for specific roles.”
Erwin had to actively unravel his fingers from their clenched fists at the latter statement wondering how they legally danced around an important thing like consent. “And during these trials, are you using cages or other tools to force them into uncomfortable scenarios?”
The woman shot him a questioning look that almost seemed indignant. “Not at all. While we take our staff’s safety to be the upmost importance, each exam is done in a controlled environment where either the wolven can be blocked off or the tester can extract themselves quickly. Even the touch tests use a mock hand and arm to avoid injury.”
Despite it being measurably better than the training annex’s neanderthal approach, it was still unsettling. He supposed there was no way of avoiding it, however, as it was a WMC regulation.
Amanda drew to a stop at a door and punched in a code on the keypad.
“This is one of the rooms we use for desensitization,” she explained as she swung it opened and flipped on a light.
The yellowish glow brought the contents of the room into focus. On one wall was a medical diagram of sorts with a side view of a person from the shoulders up. There was a curved device against the nondescript figure’s forehead with “TMS” labeled beside it, a magnetized view of neurons, and notes of biological rhythms. Another diagram was that of a full body, and below it sat a rolling table filled with equipment and cabinets that he couldn’t make sense of. Aside from those, the room was plain and bare except for the single chair bolted to the ground in the center.
Erwin and Levi froze in the doorway while Amanda gestured to the seat with a methodical explanation.
“I know it can be alarming considering movies tend to use a device like this for torture, but I assure you it’s quite safe, both for the staff and the wolven.”
“Forgive my hesitation,” Erwin replied dryly. “I’ve seen enough of the Spanish Inquisition to not like how this looks.”
Amanda didn’t take it personally. “I promise, it won’t cause him any harm. If he’d like to take a seat, I can demonstrate what it entails.”
Erwin didn’t even get a chance to consider the best option when Levi stepped around him, going straight to the chair. He almost reached out to stop Levi, but held back at the last moment. If Levi was going to do so on his own volition, whether from curiosity or obligation, Erwin wasn’t going to interfere. He told Levi it was his choice, and he meant it—even if Erwin was starting to get fidgety.
As Levi sat down, facing Erwin, his eyes tracked every movement Amanda made as she pulled the rolling cart from the wall. The squeaking of a loose wheel set the reaper’s teeth on edge as he hovered just inside the doorway. Levi, on the other hand, looked cool as a blasted cucumber. A meticulous metamorphous of the moth’s mimicry. Hiding his unease and trepidation behind carefully crafted camouflage of indifference. Not for the first time did Erwin consider it a carry-over from the fighting ring to hide any weakness.
Regardless, just because Levi had a brave front in full effect now, it did not mean Erwin was comfortable with it. Some psyche aftereffects could stem from pushing forward too hard when in a fragile mental state, ignoring the stressor signs that said you shouldn’t proceed. While he trusted Levi to consent to what he wanted to do, he didn’t trust the grim to know when to pull back. Amanda was explaining what she was doing as she folded the leather straps around Levi’s wrists and ankles. And still, Levi continued to allow it, which was the only reason Erwin wasn’t calling the entire thing to a halt.
“...and by limiting other senses like sight,” she explained, unawares of Erwin not paying attention up to that point, “it allows for heightened awareness and altered spatial perception.” She slipped a mouthguard between Levi’s lips followed by a black fabric over his eyes. “Blindfolding can be used as a therapeutic tool to help individuals in managing emotional reactions with stressful situations. It gives them a means to focus on alternative sensory information.”
Two square pads were placed on Levi’s forehead beneath his bangs, causing him to flinch at the unexpected contact.
“What are you doing?” Erwin demanded, striding closer so he could see everything.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Smith. Your wolven is doing very well so far, and I won’t actually be hooking anything up. This is only showing what the desensitization consists of.” Amanda directed her attention to Levi. “Are you doing alright, so far?”
Levi didn’t answer, but his rigid posture was evident he wasn’t having a good time. Having a closer look at the small pads under bangs and the boxy machine with unattached wires, Erwin felt himself bristle.
“You’d want to electrocute him?” he asked accusingly.
The counselor’s patience seemed to wane, but she remained professional. “It’s a very low dosage and it’s a confirmed practice to help individuals overcome specific symptoms and disorders. I understand it sounds alarming but it’s a noninvasive method and relatively harmless.”
“I’m sure there’s some truth to that, but I fail to see how it’d stop Levi’s aggression towards vampires.” He waved at the restraints, “Can he come out of the chair, now?”
“It’s more than that,” she corrected while ignoring Erwin. “What we do is play soothing music for him for a set period. In intervals, we’ll bring the trigger inside—in this case a hemovore staff member. Once your wolven realizes they are there, if he acts aggressive or stressed, then we turn on the convulsive machine for a brief 30 seconds. When he stops showing negative signs, we turn it off and let the vampire leave. Then we’d provide food, water, and more music. It’s supposed to be low-stress conditioning to unravel the abuse he’s been through.”
“What- and then he’s cured?” Erwin asked, not even hiding his rudeness, “Can he get up?”
“I appreciate your skepticism, Mr. Smith, but please understand that there’re other avenues aside from the ECT. Unfortunately, it’s more time-consuming and stressful in the long run for the wolven, so we try not to rely on those methods. And no—it doesn’t cure it. The desensitization will progress in stages. The next step would be for the vampire to walk around him and talk. Touching his arm or hand, and feeding in the same room.”
The plastic guard spat out of Levi’s mouth onto the floor, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he started to struggle by wrenching on the leather straps. Amanda quickly abandoned her discussion with Erwin, pushing the cart out of the way to tug the blindfold off.
“Please calm down. No one is here but us,” she promised, but Erwin could see the distress and panic being broadcasted in Levi’s dilated eyes even as they stuck to every one of Amanda’s movements like flypaper.
They were wild and a thousand miles away. The growling didn’t taper after his vision returned, but rather shifted decibels into that haunting warble that set Erwin’s skin alight. Levi’s face was contorted in rage, and Jesus, how had the switch to his composure flipped so fast?
Suddenly, those straps holding Levi down were a necessity, and Erwin hoped they would hold. The last thing they needed was Levi attacking the woman after perceiving her a danger.
Forcing himself between her and the rattled hellhound, he tried to block Levi’s view as he placed his hands over the leather straps and leaned in. At his back, Amanda protested, berating the reaper for getting in the way when they were trained to handle and calm Levi down without his interference.
“You need to trust us, Mr. Smith! You won’t be here to settle him down at every turn! And we can’t be liable if you get hurt when staff are capable of--”
“I don’t need to argue with you right now when Levi is clearly distressed.”
“That’s all the more reason to proceed in allowing me to do my job. He was fine until I mentioned a vampire feeding so he clearly has a fear of that. Which is completely understandable,” she had to raise her voice now as Levi’s struggles were growing louder. “It’s a scary thing to witness at first when you aren’t used to watching a vampire. The desensitizing will be a great tool to help him overcome that, followed by socialization so he learns how to behave in their capacity.”
Erwin pinned her with a stern glower, “And you think electrocuting him is the answer to make it less traumatic?”
Her pursed lips and stiffened spine reflected the internal struggle to keep her professional façade. “If you’d feel better, we could try a lower impact alternative. Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation. It’s a magnetic device with very weak currents to stimulate the neural circuits.”
His face contorted into a flagrant glare. Selling, selling, selling. Levi was spiraling in front of her, and she was standing there advertising an alternative method to appease Erwin because that’s how it was. Levi was just a broken thing that needed disassembling and recalibrating to be “functional”. Not his own person who needed aid. Who needed someone to understand what he’d been through and help him actually heal.
The fact Levi wasn’t hurling insults or demanding to be set free didn’t escape Erwin’s knowledge. He feared that the shifter was reverting to his instincts like that of the parking lot in GSIS or when he tried to attack Hange. Both instances did not lend to a path of talking him down. And during that revelation, the counselor was still attempting to get Erwin out of the way so she could do her job, while he was trying to keep his cool and not snap at her.
For three people in a spacious room, it was certainly feeling cramped and chaotic.
Abandoning all thought, Erwin grabbed Levi’s face with both hands to force him to look at him. He’d likely be chewed out for it later, but he could not risk Levi getting unbuckled and attacking the counselor or anyone else.
“Levi—Levi... Take deep breaths. You need to calm down. Slow your breathing.”
His feral eyes darted back and forth from Erwin’s to Amanda’s direction, but Erwin repositioned himself inches from Levi’s nose to force his attention to stay in place.
“Deep breaths, then we can go home. I can’t let you out until you’re in control again.”
With lack of visuals to Amanda, the frantic jerks of his chin and eye movements gradually slowed, so Erwin took that as a sign to keep talking. Something he was good at.
“You don’t like feeling out of control, right? It’s not a fun feeling, so keep breathing. It’s only us...” A thought came to him after Levi almost tugged his face free. “Hey, listen. Smell that? Only you, me, and Amanda are in the room right now. Deep breath in, check for yourself.”
There was a moment of hesitation before Levi’s nostrils flared, inhaling to determine if Erwin was telling the truth.
“Good. Again. Deep breath to make sure you smell just us. No threats.”
He repeated the process, growl dying completely as his breathing started to level out in favor of scenting the room, forcing him to take deeper inhales of air.
“Good, Levi. You’re doing good. Only you are in control of your anger. No one else has that power, right? You’re in control of yourself.”
Levi closed his eyes in what Erwin assumed was concentration, causing a wall of relief to hit him like a physical force. After a beat, Levi turned his head slightly, allowing the reaper’s hands to hold the weight while he breathed in the scent on the coat sleeve. Erwin’s jacket seemed to calm him further, which caused his own expression to slacken as he watched Levi inhale again, mesmerized at the grim’s strength to come out of the panic so smoothly. In the past, it either took sedations or significant time to pass. This was an improvement.
Curling his fingers into the short hair behind Levi’s ears, he rubbed the spot as he felt fondness bloom in his sternum, almost making him lean his forehead closer. The pad of his index finger gave an experimental curl to daringly trace the shell of Levi’s ear, earning a heavier exhale from the man.
Almost instantly, the moment was shattered when Amanda’s voice spoke behind him.
“That’s an impressive technique, to give him the impression of autonomy of his being.”
Foul mood ricochetting back into place, he firmly corrected without looking at her, “It’s not an impression. It’s the truth.” Now that he was certain Levi wasn’t going to strangle the woman, he slowly retracted his hands and started unbuckling the straps. “How ever Levi acts, it’s ultimately his choice in the end.”
“Within reason you mean.”
Levi allowed himself to be helped from the chair as the straps fell away. His gaze remained on the floor yet subtly in the counselor’s direction where she was in the edges of his peripheral. Erwin didn’t dare remove his hand from the curve of Levi’s shoulder, nodding at Amanda while maneuvering Levi toward the door. He wasn’t quite to the point of trusting that Levi wouldn’t change his mind and bury the woman in a shallow grave.
“I think we’ve seen enough. Thank you for your time.”
Amanda baulked, “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said over his shoulder as they walked into the hallway. He could hear her heels clacking after them and Levi stiffened beneath his palm. Rubbing his thumb along the column of Levi’s neck, he kept them walking.
“I understand you’re upset, Mr. Smith, but the level of his aversion is clearly dangerous and shouldn’t be left unchecked. He’s going to be exposed to discomfort no matter what facility you choose. You realize that, right? He needs training.”
Erwin had enough of listening to these people tell him what Levi needed. He understood better than them just what sort of danger Levi posed, and he knew if they had any idea of the truth, Levi would never see the light of day. Whether experimentation or euthanized, it didn’t matter. Neither were an option.
“We’ll be willing to look past this if you change your mind,” she called again, giving up trying to convince him otherwise.
The fact she was going to turn the situation around and make it sound like they’d forgive him, though, was a bold play. As if he was in the wrong for extracting Levi from the upsetting situation.
Marching through the lobby, out the doors and into the car, Levi stayed quiet the entire time. It was unclear whether that was from anger, embarrassment, or maybe he was having second thoughts now about the plan.
After getting in, Erwin shut the driver’s door but didn’t start the car. They sat there in silence, each sorting through what just happened and what to do now. There was a sour note of failure in the stuffy vehicle. A sense that they were taking another step backwards when they couldn’t afford to lose anymore ground. Time was running out. As were the training options.
It was then—after having a moment to reflect on what Amanda said—that Erwin realized the desensitization would’ve never worked in the end. Not in their execution, that is. While he understood the appeal of the reward system, by giving Levi food after the vampire left the room, there was a strong likelihood that it would only reinforce the conditioning Levi already had.
Remove the vampire from the room equals food. Kill a vampire, you don’t starve. No vampire, you eat.
Did it really matter if the vampire left willingly or through death so long as Levi ate at the end? It wasn’t like Erwin could share the information he learned in hopes they’d modify their approach. A “hey, this is a strange request, but could you change the reward system to not include food? My wolven may associate that with the times he’d eaten said vampire when held against his will.”
Levi would find himself strapped to a table and put down before Erwin had time to blink.
It appeared to be time to reach out to Hange and see what she figured out so far. Maybe she’d have an alternative.
“Would you like to get something to eat or drink while we’re in town?” Erwin asked, breaking the silence. He knew the questions about eating were a sensitive topic (which now he had a better grasp as to why) but he wasn’t going to not ask in fear of making Levi unsettled. They both had to eat. “I could go for some ice cream. Maybe a milkshake. What about you?”
Levi didn’t answer, wearing that million-yard stare. So, Erwin tried again.
“Do you... remember what a milkshake was like?”
He slowly blinked, coming back to himself a little, then shook his head.
Erwin turned on the car, ignoring the internal whisper that Levi was reverting to mutism again. He really hoped that wasn’t the case.
They ended up pulling through a local chain, ordering two milkshakes and some fries, though Levi did little to offer an answer on what kind he wanted. That was fine. Couldn’t go wrong with the classics.
A strawberry and chocolate shake later, Erwin offered them both to Levi to pick which he wanted, feeling a tingling sensation in his stomach as he watched the grim wrap his lips around the end of the straw. He tasted both, then settled on the strawberry. Erwin happily took the chocolate as they drove away, eyeing the colorful straw for a split second before covering his lips around the same tip. He didn’t need to acknowledge how much that tiny act brightened his mood. Too bad the day had been ruined by the rehab’s demonstration. It may have been nice to get milkshakes on a happier note with Levi rather than a condolence prize for digging at a festering wound.
It wasn’t all bad, though. They weren’t even halfway home when Levi had nursed his drink down to the bottom. The slurping of the straw searching for leftovers turned up the corner of Erwin’s lips, pleased that Levi had enjoyed the dessert. Perhaps, some strawberry white tea would interest Levi next time he went to the store.
When they finally stepped into the cabin, Levi muttered he wanted a bath and disappeared into the room while Erwin was still toeing off his shoes. At least Levi was speaking. One crisis adverted.
It was too early to start working on dinner, and Erwin’s mind was too wound to start researching more facilities in case the second one he’d picked out didn’t work. Instead, he plunked onto the couch and freed his phone, deciding now was time to come clean to Hange.
As soon as he settled, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He sighed and shifted until he was no longer sitting along the seams of the cushions. Before he could get the chance to open the chat, however, he noticed there were two messages from Shadis and Nanaba: one telling him to don’t forget his day in office was tomorrow, the other asking if he was planning to come in for a brief.
He sent a reply to Nanaba. Left Shadis on read.
But before he could try again for Hange, his screen changed away from the list of messages as it announced a number from State of Washington was calling. Erwin internalized his annoyance and answered the number, wondering what it could possibly be.
“Good afternoon, is Erwin Smith available?”
“This is him speaking.”
“Hello, this is Clint with Department of Wolven Resources. I received a packet from the shelter regarding your rescued wolven and I just wanted to introduce myself. First of all, congratulations on your adoption, I’m sure you’re excited.”
Excited was a far cry from what Erwin would label it.
“I’ll be working on your case during your process of getting him settled and qualified and I’ll be here for any questions you have during your first year.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. That being said, we do require monthly in-person meetings, and I’d like to schedule an introduction to go over all that’s expected for the roadmap.”
Erwin tipped his head over the back of the couch, shutting his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure.”
“How does Monday at 10:30 in the morning sound?”
That soon? “Would we be able to push it out another week?”
The voice turned apologetic. “I’m sorry. Due to the circumstances, there are deadlines that must be met per phase. I can schedule it sooner, but I won’t be able to push it back unless it’s Monday afternoon you’d prefer.”
Of course not. That would be too easy, right?
“Alright. Monday. 10:30.”
“Perfect. I’ll send you an email with the one on file pertaining to the address and my contact information. Please be sure you both bring any questions you may have, and I’ll address them at that appointment. Do you have any questions for me before I go?”
“You said both? Is Levi required to be present?” He supposed he suspected as such, but had held out hope the orientation would pass for just him attending.
“Yes. The entire process will consist of monthly check-ins and demonstrations to measure that progress is being made appropriately. If the facility is not a good match, we will find an alternative to assist with getting your wolven back on track.”
Erwin sat up abruptly. “I was under the impression the facility was up to my discretion so long as it met the accreditation of WMC.”
“Yes,” Clint hesitated, “but if it’s not meeting the needs of your wolven, we will step in and advise other avenues. Some curriculums are too direct, and others are not firm enough for specific behaviors. We will work with you to find one that is a perfect balance for the best results, but you’ll still have a say. Don’t think we take the choice from you on what you decide. As your caseworker, I’m here to help.”
Erwin’s knee bounced while his finger tapped insistently on his thigh. “Alright. I understand.”
Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.
“Perfect. I’ll see you both on Monday, Mr. Smith. Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too. Thanks.”
Erwin let the phone drop to his lap and dragged his palms down his face. He wanted to talk to Hange but going over everything through text seemed like a hassle he didn’t want to deal with and likely give him carpal tunnel. Calling her was a better alternative, but the last thing he wanted was for Levi to hear him when he briefed her on what Erwin was going to start dubbing as “the incident”. Not that he was planning on telling her everything he learned from Levi, but enough to paint a clear picture of their overwhelming problem of moving forward.
Tomorrow, he decided as he heard the bathroom door open.
Hange was scheduled to be at the office for the next two months. He would catch up with her tomorrow after the team’s brief on the case.
Behind him, there was the sound of the kettle clicking on and ting of the spoon to the leaf strainer, but otherwise Levi was silent as a shadow moving through the house.
Erwin didn’t bother looking behind him, despite that squeaky bit of instinct still whispering not to lose sight of something with massive teeth. There was a sense of faith that Levi wouldn’t jump over the back of the couch and tear into him for no reason. It seemed like too much effort for the hellhound to take unless Erwin did something stupid to provoke him—which he usually made a note to avoid.
Instead of giving it too much thought, Erwin chose to slump into the couch with his eyes closed. He was sure he felt a tension headache forming.
Only a few minutes later, a weight collapsed into the seat beside him, followed by a bump on his shoulder. The contact startled Erwin as his eyes snapped to Levi, seeing a glass of water hanging between them in an offering.
Was that the first time Levi initiated contact with him? It was. He would’ve remembered if the grim had done so prior—well, within a casual capacity. Erwin didn’t want to categorize the injuries he’d collected thus far as the same thing.
“Thank you, Levi.”
The grim made a wordless noise, tucking himself into the corner of the couch while bringing the tea to his lips. Now that Erwin thought about it, this was also the first time they shared the sofa. What was happening?
He didn’t bother to ask.
They sat there for what seemed like 30 minutes when only a handful had passed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but it wasn’t what Erwin would classify as relaxing. He was oddly attuned to every move Levi made, even when he tried to distract himself with what he planned to tell Hange. Eventually, it became too much for the reaper and, after sensing an opening in Levi’s possible willingness to chat, he fed an inquiring line out in the dead space between them.
“How’s the weather for you, Levi?”
There was a subtle shift as attuned eyes flickered toward his direction.
“How would I know,” he hedged. Then, “Probably the same as it was when we came inside. Overcast and gloomy. Just go look out the window, Smith.”
Erwin smirked but it faded quickly. “I was referring to your weather. Internally. How are feeling right now?”
The grim paused, looking like he had a snarky comment at the tip of his tongue begging for release. But something shifted and he took a sip of the tea to swallow the urge down.
“Overcast and gloomy.”
Yeah. That sounded about right. Erwin copied Levi, taking a drink of his water before speaking again.
“I want you to know that despite what happened today, we’re not out of options. There’s plenty more places we can look into. This was just a hiccup is all.”
Levi’s brows furrowed. “About that... I don’t get why you’re putting so much effort into me when I won’t be of much help to your case. You got some kind of savior complex?”
“No,” Erwin answered without hesitation.
It was the truth. His reasons for helping Levi had been entirely selfish. He did not have the bleeding heart many would assume, and he was under no false illusions otherwise.
Levi stared into his mug, corner of his lips sinking lower.
“Then why?” he asked gratingly. “Why do these things? Why bother with me?”
Erwin didn’t answer for a drawn-out moment, sharing in the contemplation of what made him determined to see it through. What Levi contributed to the case was certainly not on the frontlines as a witness to the trial. Not unless they could work out his legal status, but that wasn’t really the point of the question. Erwin’s plan had always been to use Levi more as an informant. To learn about Tybur and his proclivities, his motives. To paint a pretty profile on the vampire and determine his role in the murders, all to arrest him so he would account for his crimes.
However, that didn’t make Erwin a noble humanitarian. It was difficult for Reapers to get worked up over murders when it was their entire purpose to introduce death to the equation. That was why they were so efficient as agents for GSIS because following regulations or one’s moral code was easier than being affected by emotional feedback from the environment.
What Erwin felt for Tybur wasn’t a case of enacting heroic justice for the murders under the Cascade Butcher moniker. It was personal. A clear challenge. The way an entitled individual steps over a line drawn in the sand, toes at the other’s territory with a taunting grin, and pushes their friend down—thinking they’re invincible to consequences. An immature metaphor, but true nonetheless. Sadly, for the coven leader, Erwin was just the right amount of petty and vindictive to show he wouldn’t stand by and allow it to happen. It should also go without saying that the friend being shoved down in that instance was Levi, so yes, there was a necessary investment into his well-being.
Erwin felt protective of him, while also using him.
Trying to convey all of that to the grim was not exactly easy when the core of it stemmed from the biology of Reapers pragmatism, peppered with Erwin’s (probably unhealthy) sense of possessiveness.
Taking a deep breath to bring him back to the question, Erwin shifted in the seat so he was facing Levi. He swung his right arm over the back of the couch and set the glass of water on the end table, folding one ankle over his knee.
Levi twitched from the opened posture suddenly angled at him, likely conveying some sort of shifter message that Erwin didn’t understand. To the reaper, it was just welcoming the discussion, showing he was engaging with Levi freely. To the hellhound, it could mean several things. Erwin sighed at the clear agitation but didn’t speak on it, choosing to be honest in his answer.
“It’s become clear that you’re beyond saving, Levi,” Erwin said as matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing to be done about reversing the damage inflicted on you from Tybur.”
The grim flinched as if he’d been slapped, eyes burning with the knee-jerk hurt that shuttered across before he turned his head toward the dormant tv. The muscles in his jaw bunched as Levi absorbed the bitter reality of his situation, probably wondering if Erwin was trying to goad him into a fight. Eventually, he tucked his thoughts behind an air of nonchalance and gazed into the contents of his mug.
“Then why am I here, Smith? If I’m so irrecoverable, why fucking bother with all of this?”
Erwin glanced at his hand over the back of the couch, fingers tracing the edge of the stitched seam. He was less than two feet away from that pitch shock of hair and he could immediately recall the feeling of short strands, both prickly and soft; all depending on which way the pads of his fingers stroked.
He supposed he would need to elaborate so Levi didn’t take his answer the wrong way, causing things to escalate. While the reaper could slake himself on death, healing someone was just another form of taking a person’s life in his hands. Similar to the way one might set a broken bone. Despite what he said, he had a strong urge to apply that to Levi.
“Because it doesn’t matter that you’re beyond preserving. You’re not the same person you were before Tybur. Going through what you did is a metamorphosis, and what comes out is not a lesser creature for it.” Erwin sketched his gaze across Levi’s face, the loose collar of the oversized shirt that sat just off center and exposed part of a pronounced clavicle. “You’re damaged and burning with resentment, that’s true. But so are many other things like falling stars and fault lines that carve mountains. I wouldn’t say those deserve to be tossed aside or ignored. Would you? They’re powerful, in their own right.”
His face fell, obviously troubled by Erwin’s explanation. The reaper waited, half anticipating a defensive insult tossed at him while Levi mulled it over. Instead, there was a twitch like a sullen smile wanted to break free, but it died before it could take shape.
“It is a great error to take oneself for more than one is, or for less than one is worth...”
The words fell like lyrics from Levi’s lips, honed and practiced and sweet. Something unexpectedly caught in Erwin’s chest, winding the tension and stirring his blood hotter beneath his skin.
This... was a pleasant surprise.
The reaper pondered on the phrase; the recital balanced with showmanship saved for glorious stages. He found himself aching for more words to pour from Levi in that sonorous voice.
“Goethe's aphorism,” he breathed once his brain realigned. “To carry a realistic self-assessment to navigate life’s challenges. Acknowledging both strengths and weaknesses.” Clever man.
Levi hummed, considered something that made him turn away. “You shouldn’t trust me to go out.”
Erwin tilted his head, gaze skipping to the short distance between his fingertips and Levi’s hair. “Why do you say that?”
“Tch, don’t be stupid. You have eyes, Smith. You saw the risk I pose whenever vampires are brought up. I can’t control my reactions to what my entire fucking essence sees as a threat. Even your people know I’m crazy,” he said the last part with a pointed look.
It seemed he overheard the discussion with Mike at GSIS. Or he suspected it was about him.
“Crazy isn’t the term I would use.”
Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No? This should be good... What phrase is more fitting then?”
Erwin feigned longer consideration than he actually afforded the question, shifting in his seat so the armrest was no longer against his back, subtly inching closer.
“Disconnected... You’re alone and need to recover the reins of your control. It’s not subversive. It’s a signal for help. You need... a pack. Or someone to be your support when your crutch slips. Someone who can look out for you when your body turns against logic.”
It was hard to read what Levi was thinking or feeling. A stern empty mask was in place as he stared at Erwin. “I have no pack. For a long time, I had only myself to rely on, so I’m used to it. I’m... I'm an island.”
“I see it differently,” Erwin countered quieter. “You’re a tree that withstood the storm when others fell. You may feel lonely on the hillside with snapped branches, but what you don’t know is that the mountain you’re standing on is still holding your roots. The rain is feeding you and wind keeping you company even if you can’t see it.”
Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and chewing on one side, Levi appeared to have retreated inward in thought. Erwin tried to pull his attention away, if only to distract himself with his glass of water, but it was so damn difficult when he was afraid that he’d miss something important.
When Levi’s lip finally slipped free, there was a rosier tint beneath the wet sheen, hiding the chapped skin that was nearly healed since leaving the shelter. Not that Erwin noticed the improvement, just like he didn’t notice Levi’s bottom lip had swelled slightly from the subtly gnawing.
“So, you’re what exactly? Volunteering to be my anchor when I start losing my shit?”
His voice with that subtle Irish drawl yanked Erwin out of his observation. Thankfully, it appeared Levi hadn’t noticed his rude ogling.
“If that’s what you need me to be, then yes. I told you that I’m in your corner and we’ll see this through together.”
“Hence the milkshake to soften the blow,” Levi grouched.
“This isn’t a battle, Levi,” Erwin said gently.
“No. You’re just fostering codependency.”
Levi’s wit was sharp, and not entirely untrue. Erwin’s lip twitch in amusement. “Is that what I’m doing?”
The man’s annoyance was very clear indeed by Erwin’s playful dodge. But he certainly wasn’t going to admit to anything outright.
“You’re an ass, Smith.”
Erwin chuckled despite risking further ire. “I’ve been told that, yes.”
"Credat Judaeus Apella, non ego.”
An audible swallow. Erwin’s tongue darted out to wet his own lips but failed to smother the impressed smirk. These little phrases were a sin.
“Levi, you keep surprising me. You’re familiar with Latin?”
The man leveled him with a prickly side-eye that was brimming with judgement, but Erwin’s runaway mind was trying to distract the reaper by conjuring other looks the man was capable of.
“I just insulted you. You either aren’t familiar yourself, or maybe you need to get your head checked, blondie.”
“You essentially told me that you don’t believe me and to waste my breath elsewhere.” Erwin gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m not implying you’re gullible.”
“You may not be implying it, but you’re also not going to make corrections if something is taken wrongly.”
“Depends on what it is that was misunderstood, I suppose.”
Levi pointed a finger at him from the rim of his mug; the other elbow dug into the arm rest and knuckles held up his cheek. “And that’s the problem right there. You play little mind games and warp situations to your favor.”
“Is that no different than what you do? Allow people to believe what they see and not correct their misunderstanding.”
Levi eyes narrowed, as his face turned flinty. “What are you talking about?”
Sensitive territory, his mind warned, detecting the danger instantly. Tread carefully.
Feigning innocence, Erwin’s finger flicked absently at the seams of the couch’s spine. “I’ve just noticed you avoid eye contact when you’re uncomfortable, yet always seem to know where everyone is at and what they’re doing. Some people may not be aware that they’re being watched.”
“And that’s a bad thing that needs correcting in your eyes?” Levi asked stiffly.
“Not necessarily. But amongst friends, it may give the wrong impression.”
“Is this advice or are you warning me that I’ve made your friends uncomfortable?”
The question had a firm bite to it, doing well to erase the fragile moment of teasing seconds before.
Belatedly, it hit the reaper that he’d became too comfortable, in the way a situation just sweeps you up and the responses escalate before the mind can process the direction things are going. Taking a second to regroup his thoughts, Erwin firmly reminded himself that Levi wasn’t—he wasn't his. Levi wasn’t here for Erwin to make a move on, or to think about like that. He was a man pulled out of one terrible situation to the next and was seeking out comfort after all the dreadful things he’d been through.
That was it.
Erwin had no right to have those sorts of thoughts and needed to remain professional. Not get overly compliant. There was still a wildness to the man that shared his home, with much less trust between them to be acting like that.
“Neither. Simply an observation.” He kept his tone modulated and calm, deciding to tread back to shallower waters. “Tell me, what is it like when you’re set off by vampires?” Levi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Erwin pacified it by amending, “I believe if I understand what you experience better, I can narrow possible clinics to something more conducive to our needs.”
The skepticism lightened, though remained present. “It’s fast... I’m in control and talking myself through the situation in one minute. The next jolts out of nowhere and I’m usually looking for a fight.” The hand that was holding his head up went to his chest, eyes glazing over in thought. “My heart will feel like I just ran miles, and I feel the adrenaline... Sometimes, just a scent will be all it takes, and next thing I know, I’m looking for the source, but sometimes it’s not even there. Just something that carried in on a gust, but I can’t stop looking...” His hand fell to his lap, and he stared at it, as if confused why it was on his chest to begin with. “I don’t know. Everything gets foggy. I just keep looking...”
That troubling feeling since ‘the incident’ made an abrupt return. Erwin understood a part of Levi’s reasoning for his reaction to hemovores after learning what Tybur did, but there was undeniably more that he didn’t know. What Levi described now didn’t sound like it was the result of prisoners being tossed in his cell to kill and eat. There must have been a specific event, or many, that churned this deep of a reaction from Levi’s core.
He tried to recall everything he’d learned up to that point, every reaction with Hange, the nightmares, the half-dazed explanations, the wolven facilities...
“He was fine until I mentioned a vampire feeding...”
Amanda’s voice rang in his head like a bell toll, seizing his focus like a vice.
“What did Tybur do, exactly to make you uneasy?” he prodded as gently as he could manage, trying not to be direct despite the itch building under his skin.
Levi lip twitched like it wanted to coil into a snarl but refrained. “It's not unease that I feel for him. It’s loathing.”
Erwin wasn’t going to allow Levi to dodge his question. “Completely understandable. But it seems there’s more to it than what you’ve already mentioned.”
Levi didn’t answer, glaring out into nothingness.
“Did he feed on you?”
There was a moment of bafflement that folded into disgust. “No,” Levi insisted. “No. Only the specially fucked-up leeches ever fed on wolvens. Majority find shifters filthy with animal blood or some shit.”
Erwin turned the reaction over, knowing that vampires could heal teeth punctures with their saliva. Aside from the full bite in Levi’s shoulder, there hadn’t been any real indication of feedings done to him from when he was in the bath. Silver scar tissue littered the grim’s torso, that was true, but those were clearly from other sources.
The milkshake churned uneasily in his stomach.
“Did Tybur or anyone else feed on someone you knew?”
And like a thundercloud, Levi’s expression shuttered back into that thousand-yard stare.
Indeed, Erwin was now in the ballpark, getting closer to learning more of the mystery Levi was. Just what happened to him? What caused a man like Levi--with the willpower and strength to survive decades of abuse—to crumble to his instincts in a blink of an eye? The difference was so stark, it was like Levi’s core had split into two entities.
“Was it someone who you knew after capture or someone before...?” he asked right as his brain realized it should've censored the question. Despite trailing off, almost immediately upon recognizing what he said, the damage was already done.
“Doesn’t fucking matter does it,” Levi gritted out.
Erwin scowled, subconsciously pulling his arm to the safety of his lap. “I’d say it certainly matters. If that’s the case, your reasons for loathing Tybur and vampires in general carries significant justification. More importantly, it does a disservice to whoever it happened to by saying it doesn’t matter.”
That was the wrong thing to come out of his mouth.
Levi seethed as he set down the half-filled mug on the coffee table, hard, as if afraid he’d shatter it if it stayed in his hands. “You have some nerve to talk like you know anything. I’d advise you to quit while you’re ahead.”
The threat may as well be looking down at the bared teeth of the hellhound, but Erwin was sometimes an egotistical idiot who submitted to blatant challenges.
“Who was it, Levi?”
“Will you shut-up—”
“Just tell me. How else am I supposed to help you if you won’t tell me what caused you to be like this?”
“I never asked for your shitty help.”
“No, but you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Your options are limited. You have me, or the shelter—and we both know what the odds of making it out of there are.”
Levi’s upper lips finally unfurled, baring part of his teeth as he fumed, “You’re really throwing out fucking ultimatums? You’re not entitled to know everything, Smith, so get over yourself.”
Erwin’s frown deepened, “I’m not asking for your life’s story. I’m asking about who it was that—I assume—Tybur fed on.”
Erupting from the couch, Levi leveled a vicious glare that could corrode metal, and for a heartbeat, Erwin was convinced he’d finally pushed too hard. That the barely tolerable interactions had finally boiled over into hostility and they were really about to trade blows.
But Levi never breached an inch of the space between them.
“Tch,” all vinegar in his tone, “you have a habit of dredging up the past like a rotting carcass refusing to decompose. Take my advice and go fuck yourself.”
“Levi—wait.”
But the man had turned on his heels and stormed off, slamming the bedroom door and rattling the pictures on the wall.
Yup. He pushed too hard. Demanded too much and expected answers that he didn’t deserve.
While Erwin knew he wholeheartedly needed to know more of what Levi had been through—afraid he would find out only after another incident occurred--the grim was determined to keep it bottled up. Erwin’s relentless desire for answers was drowning out his charisma and tact, and he sensed it was a battle he was doomed to repeat until he learned to balance it. Like some twisted sort of Groundhog’s Day.
Hopefully, he’d get his head on straight before Levi got fed up and removed it for him.
You are a tragedy, he told himself, stretching on the empty sofa to stare at the ceiling. The silence in the cabin pressed all around him, as if he was back to being the only soul inside. A damn tragedy. Accept it.
Notes:
Sorry for the delay. It was pretty much done on Wednesday but then I didn’t like where it was going in parts and went back to rewrite it. Then, couldn’t figure out if I liked their chat at the end of the chapter but given how the next part will be, I decided to keep their little spat in.
Also, I’d imagine Levi’s voice reciting prose would be near mesmerizing. Erwin would have to be a sucker for that too, right? 😂
Anyway, sorry for the wait. Hope everyone is doing well, and the chapter wasn’t too cramped with things. I’m still having a hard time managing the pacing of the story so far. Also, came across a spookily fitting song for Levi in this fic two days ago. Everything Ends-Architects.
Thank you for all the comments and kudos! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 19: Inure
Notes:
TW: Mental health topics and discussions, trauma responses
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
“I don’t know what to do, Hange,” Erwin confessed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slouched on the counter.
He had plucked out a stool which had long since been shoved and forgotten beneath a desk that was repurposed as a catch-all. It seemed Hange was determined to test its durability beneath a boxes of empty test tubes, mountain of documents, medical books, a spare lab coat, inflatable beach ball, and he was pretty sure he could make out an old VHS player next to the skeletal remains of a deceased bonsai.
The main counter he was sitting at wasn’t much of an improvement, however the items littering the top were at least all relevant to the current open cases. Or so he assumed. He wasn’t entirely sure why she needed a jar of covalent HF acid, but he was willing to propose a new office rule that limited Hange’s access to substances with more than three warning labels on the single container.
Something about that seemed like the responsible thing to do.
“Well, it sounds to me you’re in a pickle, my friend. Have you tried not being an overbearing asshole and interrogating the victim who’s taking refuge in your house?”
Both hands covered his face, propped up by his elbows, so Hange couldn’t see his chagrin. It wasn’t common to be so open with his expressions, but with the erratic vampire, Erwin felt equally exposed and safe. They’d known each other for so long, and despite their contrasting mannerisms, Hange was as sharp as they came. The silly, childish glee did her cleverness and insightful mind little justice to those who didn’t truly know her, but Erwin understood when and how to capitalize on it. Such as now.
“You don’t understand,” he insisted through his palms, “Levi is the epitome of aged resentment. My intentions aren’t to poke at his hatred towards... well, vampires. Though I think the source is primarily aimed at Tybur, and the rest is just a carry-over... I’m only trying to understand.”
He could hear Hange shuffling noisily around him, multitasking as she usually did. It helped to ease some of his shame to think she wasn’t looking at him.
“This reminds me of a saying I’ve heard before... What was it? Oh, that’s right: Hell is paved with good intentions. Ever hear of it?”
“L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés ou désirs,” Erwin recited, mind instantly returning to Levi. There was little finesse or poise in his response, though he knew if Levi had said it, the words would sound like poetry. “And the road to Heaven is paved with good actions. What’s your point?”
“That your intentions alone are going to get you into trouble if you don’t modulate your actions. I know you’re empathetic towards Levi, but you need to show it too. In ways he understands.”
“Understands,” Erwin parroted, finding it ironic and unfair for Hange to lecture him when she didn’t know the entire picture. Hell, even he didn’t know everything—which was the entire problem from the night before—but he supposed it was his fault for keeping Hange in the dark.
Best to remedy it if he hoped to get something out of this discussion.
“Hange, you don’t understand the dynamite of nightmares that are smuggled beneath his pillow. I’ve only had a glimpse, and I can tell you it’s hellish.”
A clink against the counter by his elbow coaxed him to emerge from his burrow to look at the source. There was a mug of steaming hot cocoa with three shriveled marshmallows floating sadly like half sunken vessels. Across from him, Hange folded her arms on the table, leaning over to watch Erwin as he reluctantly picked up the mug. Maybe she laced it with something that would put him out of his misery.
“Explain it then. You’ve come seeking my great wisdom, so tell me what you’ve learned about the little guy. Gotta fill me in on something or else I won’t be able to help.”
Erwin winced as the same words were thrown back at him. There wasn’t a knee-jerk desire to snap at Hange to mind her business, but he supposed it wasn’t fair to compare his and Levi’s reactions.
Erwin trusted Hange.
Levi did not trust Erwin.
As he took a sip of the drink, the hot chocolate did well to comfort the surface level unease, but then it reminded him of the milkshake, causing his mood to plummet once again.
The night before, he waited for Levi to come out of the room, having agreed they’d sleep near one another, but he never emerged. At least, not until after Erwin had fallen asleep in the same clothes he wore that day. The only reason he noticed was the tickling of fur on the back of his hand hanging off the couch at some point in the middle of night. But he’d gone right back to sleep, unable to see anything in the dark save for the mound of black. By the time he woke up in the morning, Levi was holed up in his room again, not making a single sound. He was obviously avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Erwin and the revelation hurt.
So, with a heavy sigh, the reaper explained what happened during ‘the incident’ and afterwards, forgoing his previous plan to censor some details and instead spilled everything. He even summarized the failed meeting with one of the WMC facilities that he’d been rather hopeful on.
Hange listened with neutral reservation, nodding along, but never once interrupting. It was appreciated and yet unnerving. When he finally circled to what he’d already told her from the night before, she remained quiet for a long moment, digesting everything at her own pace.
Erwin waited, rather impatiently, with his leg bouncing on the rung of the stool. It was rare for him to fidget and yet he’d been doing it all day. There wasn’t a question in his mind that Hange and Mike noticed, but neither mentioned it to him.
The earlier briefing with the team had been a successful distraction from his woes. Eren was back from his mandated leave, eager to reveal what he and Jean learned from their tasks the day before.
The fellow publisher for Hannes’ online forum was interviewed and told them of various threats they’d received online. It wasn’t uncommon for media platforms to host a cesspool of bullies looking to incite violence or fear. Some were shrugged off as the harmless haters, all bark and no bite, telling them to kill themselves or starting a string of arguments from fellow readers. On the other hand, those that considered themselves as keyboard warriors or were strongly dedicated to their opposing opinions would send threats that were peppered with personal facts collected from actual research. Those attacks were alarming at times, but came with the territory. Any that were directed at their families or sounded too real had been reported to the police.
Jean and Eren consolidated all the usernames and threats sent to Hannes and his friend to narrow it down. Those that were wolven were prioritized over others to investigate first for whether they were involved in the homicides.
Afterwards, Mike and Jean headed up the interrogations of those brought in while Nanaba and Eren worked with Nile to review CCTV cameras around the apartment complex for suspicious activity. They’d successfully narrowed it down to a possible car from a nearby park’s surveillance, showing it coming and going around the time of Hannes’ death. The plates were missing, so the search net was cast wide for owners of an ’01 blue Chevy Tahoe. As for the dental records, Sasha reported that there were no matches.
Erwin surmised that if Levi was undocumented and had no records of his own, then Tybur likely had other wolvens with similar circumstances. It would make the coven leader’s movements impossible to track if he used them in the murders, and Erwin had already learned the vampire was not opposed to doing so.
He kept that revelation to himself, however, too busy wondering what if Levi had given in to the vampire instead of resisting for so long... if Levi would be the one helping with the homicides. It was daunting to think that if things were different, Erwin would be trying to hunt Tybur and Levi down simultaneously instead of keeping him in his house. Now that he thought about it, the similarities were there, but for some reason, Erwin was content with justifying Levi's actions and excusing them. It wasn't like he killed because he was ordered too, right? Just so he wouldn't die himself.
Although, that wasn't exactly a grand excuse either, was it?
“Levi is such an interesting specimen, don’t you think?” Hange’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Erwin’s leg stopped bouncing as he leveled her with a flat stare. “I believe Levi would find being labeled a specimen quite offensive, Hange.”
“Maybe,” she shrugged, leaning forward to fix him with a probing look. “But you didn’t deny it.”
“He is interesting,” he admitted. “But I don’t consider him a specimen. He’s a person and should be treated as such.”
A sly grin split her lips, showing a sharp fang. “I know. That was test and you passed! There’s hope for you yet, Ervy.”
The bouncing leg resumed as he looked off to the side, petulantly taking another mouthful of hot cocoa.
“I hate to say it,” she said, turning serious, “but given what you told me, it does explain a lot about his reactions. I’m afraid this is something that’s ingrained in his psyche now, not just... an in-the-moment response.”
Erwin said nothing, already coming to that conclusion.
“That being said, you mentioned that you found a possible treatment you wanted to try at home?”
“Yes,” he answered hesitantly, “I’m not convinced that I’m the best person to help him, but there’s not exactly an overabundance of options now, either. We have a meeting with the caseworker on Monday and Levi’s not speaking to me.”
Hange considered him for a moment, an unusual frown slowly forming. “That’s less than two days away. And I think you know as well as I do that when you go to meet with your caseworker, Levi will encounter vampires there. They won’t accommodate his sensitivities seeing as their entire purpose is to weed out wolvens they consider irredeemable.”
Erwin set the mug aside to drag his hands down his face. “This isn’t going to work. There’s no possible way to get Levi over his hatred of vampires in two days.”
“From what you told me, it’s not a hatred he has, but a trigger. He’s like some... maladaptive sleeper agent flipped on at the sight or smell of us.”
“Semantics,” Erwin grumbled, feeling a pit form in his chest at how accurate her label was. Sighing, he laced his fingers together on the table. “Alright, running with that analogy, how do we deactivate a sleeper agent?”
“Hmm...” Hange’s finger tapped on the counter as she pondered. “Deprogram. De-condition. But I agree with your skepticisms that we don’t know the full story, and trying to mess with his head with only half-facts could cause more damage... It’s safe to assume someone close to him was fed on by Tybur and it isn’t a leap to say he killed them while doing it. But speaking from experience, there’s a number of ways that can be done.”
“Don’t mention that to Levi, please,” Erwin said firmly. Hange was significantly older than him and had lived through some dire stains in history. While she was civilized and jovial now, he knew the further back you looked into any Supra’s history, the closer they were to their fabled counterparts. Myths and legends held some harrowing facts that painted them as justified monsters. “While he’s also done some horrific things for survival, he may not look at your actions as kindred.”
Hange merely shrugged again. “You never know. It may gain sympathy. Who are we to determine what makes Levi tic? As you said, he’s his own person and we’re still in the dark about what else he went through.”
“So, what do you make of all of this?”
Hange sighed. “Well, some major concerns I have is what the WMC will do. That’s two marks on Levi’s record showing he became reactive to vampires at two separate facilities. The most recent didn’t even have a vampire present... Your caseworker will have those documents on his desk before your appointment time, I guarantee it.”
Erwin shut his eyes and forced himself to take a breath. “But it’s early enough in the probation that they can’t do anything, right? It’s not as if they’ll take custody away from me.”
Hange’s sober look made him want to throw up.
“Unfortunately, if he can’t keep his composure in the building during your appointment, they could very well take him. But...” she waited until she knew Erwin wasn’t going to interject, “I haven’t given up on finding a loophole yet. We just might be able to swing a good defense if we use his status as a Hellhound against their regulations. Especially, if we learn more about their lifestyles and such, we could approach it with a... cultural angle. Who wouldn’t be interested in learning about a Hellhound and making an exception to the rules? He’s not biologically a wolven.”
“Grim.”
“Huh?”
“Levi. He prefers to be called a Grim.”
“Oh,” a smile fleetingly appeared, but he got the impression it wasn’t exactly innocent. “That’s good to know. Well, Grims being exempt from the regulations may help with WMC. The only reason I’m not entirely sure the plan will work is there’s been phrases that could be counter-argued against us. I came across terms like ‘wolf’ and ‘canis-descent’, which would technically include Levi. Grims are either so rare and possibly near extinction, or they shouldn’t be in the world of the living to begin with.”
“Levi did mention he had family. An uncle at one point. I’m not sure what happened to them.”
“Probably nothing good if he isn’t trying to reconnect with anyone.”
Erwin had come to the same conclusion.
Running a hand through his hair, he replied, “I’m not ready to subscribe to the idea of announcing what Levi actually is. I have a feeling there’s reasons for him playing up the role as a loup-garou and it’s probably best to keep it that way. Not to mention, I fear others will want to experiment on him or may even find a reason to euthanize Levi regardless.”
“I share those same concerns, which is why I hadn’t led with the possible loophole to begin with. Still... I’ll keep looking. I’m sure there must be something we’re missing.” A beat passed between them as the conversation lulled. Then Hange changed the subject. “What was that treatment you were interested in trying with Levi at home?”
Erwin pulled out his phone and opened the tab with the scientific paper to hand to Hange. As she looked it over, he summarized it, knowing she could listen, and skim read at the same time.
“During the clinic’s reasoning on desensitization, I was curious if there was another way to apply it without—” he paused to censor the vulgar term almost slipping free, “electro currents and restraining. In theory, it did seem relevant to Levi’s condition, just not necessarily with their method of application. So, I came across that last night after I, you know...”
“Fucked up?” she supplied with a raised brow over her glasses. Erwin frowned but didn’t argue, knowing she was right. Thankfully, she didn’t press and turned her attention to the article. “Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. I’ve not heard much about this technique before, but EMDR does sound like it’d be low risk.... Have him remember the details of traumatic events while watching a bilateral moving object... Hmm, repetitive eye movement can distract or calm patient, causing them to emotionally disengage from the memory... And creates the ability for their mind to reprocess it without the overwhelming stress of recalling the emotional response.”
“It showed that the success rate was fairly favorable for those with PTSD, or those feeling stuck. Levi has been rather despondent and dissociative.” He waited for Hange to read a little further until she handed him the phone back. “What do you think?”
“I’m impressed. And I know I shouldn’t be, but I take back the thing I said about actions. You do that,” she pointed to the phone, “and I think you and Levi will be heading in the right direction. Even by us not knowing everything he’s been through, the treatment seems inclusive. And he doesn’t have to share what he doesn’t want to. He can simply relive the memory in his mind while watching something move in front of him. I didn’t see anywhere that mentioned verbalizing the details was required.”
“Sure, but I’d still like to know,” Erwin mumbled under his breath, recognizing how childish he sounded.
“Too damn bad, Erwin. That isn’t up for you to decide,” Hange retorted haughtily. She reached over the counter and caged his hand beneath hers. “Look. I completely understand this is new to you, and Reapers aren’t exactly known for their compassion or ability to empathize, but try to reel it in a bit. You can’t use blunt force to convince a canary to sing for you. You have to earn its trust and coax it.”
“Levi is far from a canary.”
“You’re right. A canary would never have lasted that long under Tybur’s sick brutality. But the fact still remains, Ervy. Don’t demand answers from him. He needs someone to be there, to listen and reassure him that he’s safe and not going to be judged.” She aimed a stern, unyielding glower at him. “You’re more than capable of not being an ass. So do better.”
Erwin huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Because I’d hate to have to knock some sense into you.”
“I think if anyone will do it, Levi will be first in line.”
“Try not to piss him off. I really don’t want to be called to collect your remains and run an autopsy. Then again... there is a running debate on whether your brain is larger than average.”
Erwin fixed her with a deadpanned stare. “Is that a big-headed joke?”
“A big brain,” she corrected with a grin. “A compliment, my intellectual companion. Oh!! That gives me an idea! What if we tag-team Levi?”
“Er... I don’t really care for what that entai—”
“No-no, hear me out. You can do your EMDR thing, but what if I also come by after work so he can have real-life exposure?”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? He’s proven he was capable before of not coming after me in the car, remember? This may help his confidence if he’s feeling out of control, and it’ll help reinforce it.”
Erwin shook his head. “That was prior to the incident and nightmares. Since then, he’s... I don’t know how to put it, but it’s like he’s fraying at the edges.”
Hange hung her hands on her hips. “Well, I don’t know how to break it to you, but in less than two days, you’re taking him to the caseworker. Are you seriously willing to wait until then to find out just how far he’s deteriorated?”
He had nothing to say to that, realizing that it was entirely true.
“I can swing by tonight,” she filled in the silence, turning to start riffling through some drawers. “Between us, I’m sure we can keep him from turning me into dog chow. I’ll even bring sedatives, just in case.”
Erwin glanced at his phone and considered sending Levi a text, despite knowing the odds of getting a response. He had a bad feeling this wasn’t going to turn out well.
***
Since arriving at Erwin’s cabin, Levi’s circumstances had allowed him to get sufficient rest and regular nutrition. Seeing as it was a first in practically three decades, one would think such an improvement would make him feel better. Safer. Perhaps a clearer headspace and more energy. But without the constant supply of adrenaline, routine suffering, and unrelenting vigilance, he’d been left unprepared for the serenity that forced him to actually... process.
This state of recovery meant that Levi had to face every remorseful action and heartbreak as it appeared randomly like a fucked-up Jack-in-the-box with a broken tune. Without an excess of cortisol disrupting his focus – and without a continuous need for caution and anticipation - Levi was suddenly left feeling both shockingly present and unmoored. His hold on his emotions had been tenuous at best, but now, they fractured and groaned from the strain, like the first step onto a thinly frozen pond.
It didn’t matter what he was doing to pass the time by. Reading, making tea, wandering around the house, sitting on the steps of the porch and watching the world pass by. The images flickered, both memories and hallucinations, and his physical responses had become so fucking jumpy. It was like his body would remember something while his mind was sufficiently occupied—past and present squaring off within his nervous system and yet he was the one being knocked on his ass. Sometimes it was difficult to distinguish which sensations were real and which were born from the dreadful white room. They mingled with stuttering crackles of sensory information—vivid and acute like muzzle flashes.
He tried burying them deep, just like Kenny had taught him, but the damn things kept clawing back to the surface. It was an assault from the inside out. His mind and body turning against him—but what could he do? What could he do? He didn’t know how to stop it. Images and auditory hallucinations were not something he could fight or run from. They were like parasites, burrowing into his viscera and manifesting tar. He felt trapped.
To make everything more complicated, things with Erwin were unreliable at best. Then the pushy fucker had to make it worse because he couldn’t take a hint and stay out of his damn space, demanding answers and throwing out ultimatums.
Since Levi had no interest in speaking to the bullheaded reaper, that meant he was actively isolating himself, creating prime opportunities for all his pain to resurface and force him to look. No matter what he did, he couldn’t find a solution to manage it. Distractions, sleeping, inflicting pain to ground himself. Nothing could levee against the flood of Tybur’s blight. The last thing he wanted was to seek Erwin to talk about it, seeing how well that worked last time he tried.
Sighing, Levi picked at the callouses along his knuckles. He was used to them being pronounced and rough, but the short time at the cabin allowed them to heal to the point he could no longer find the former edges. It was another reminder that he should be better-- happier. But instead, his foundations were crumbling under the weight of decades of recollections. He couldn’t help looking at his hands and feeling betrayal.
Not for the first time did he think this freedom was being wasted on him when there were so many others who’d appreciate it. Use it to their advantage and not squander it like Levi.
Was this going to be the new normal for him? Is this what he had to look forward to if the training with WMC panned out?
Before Erwin, normality consisted of hunger and the level of coldness that crystalized around a person’s bones. Simple beatings were a blessing compared to the isolated white room or oubliette that was more par for the course. And yet, despite the struggles to cope, Levi couldn’t deny that what Erwin offered had an appeal. A normalcy with cleanliness, comfort, and little cherished moments of respect.
But none of that would matter if Levi couldn’t get a grasp of his sanity to pass the demonstrations. None of it would be enjoyed if he continued to lose touch with reality.
His fingers pressed into his eyes until his vision blurred, and the world narrowed down to nothing. Levi wasn’t sure what Erwin saw in his sunken vessel of a body to get him out of the shelter. Some days, he was aloof, rude, and opinionated. Other times, Levi felt like he was collapsing like a house of cards. There wasn’t much between. But still, Erwin seemed set on seeing it through. He couldn’t be sure if he should find solace in that or be worried that Erwin may change his mind.
There wasn’t much time to ponder it as the familiar engine and headlights drifted through the front of the house. Levi instinctively tensed, debating briefly on disappearing into the room to avoid the reaper, but pushed the thought aside. He wasn’t going to run away and hide. If Erwin had something to say that pissed him off, Levi would go to the room, but he wasn’t fucking hiding.
Picking up the rag from the counter, he continued wiping the windowsill down and the hanging light fixture above the sink. Cleaning once used to be a cathartic task, despite drifting between countries so often. Mindless, productive, and healthy. He wasn’t sure if it had lost the appeal over time. There wasn’t much he felt interested in these days or derived joy from. The closest was sitting outside but even that lost its token quickly.
Fuck, what was wrong with him?
The front door opened and shut with a soft click, followed by the dull thumps of shoes being toed off. A beat later, Erwin rounded the entryway toward the kitchen, holding his messenger bag and his coat folded over his arm. Levi’s gaze dropped to the jacket, wondering why the reaper overlooked hanging it on the hook by the door, but dismissed it. He wasn’t supposed to care.
As Erwin came to a stop by the island, he glanced around the living room, eyes landing on the folded and washed blankets, the dusted shelves, cleaned windows. Circling to the kitchen, he ran a cursory look along the countertops before settling on Levi. A tiny downturn of his lips had the shifter pondering if he overstepped some unspoken boundary, and Erwin was preparing to give him shit. The reaper certainly wasn’t pleased about something.
“How was your day, Levi?”
Oh, so that’s how it was going to play out? Instantly, Levi’s irritation flared as he tossed the rag onto the island and glared at the reaper on the other side. It annoyed him how Erwin could skitter so unpredictably between confident entitlement and tentative acquaintance. He should just pick one, give Levi at least enough footing to adapt his responses.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked while crossing his arms.
Erwin’s face remained guarded and tight, but there was something that gave Levi the feeling the man was trying to hide something.
“Doing what? I was simply asking about you and your day.”
Levi didn’t answer him, just continued to stare and wait until Erwin eventually sighed and gave in.
“You know, you don’t have to clean the house if you’re feeling...”
“Feeling what?”
“Imposing.”
“What am I supposed to feel like, then?” Levi retorted, words turning to bricks between them. Some part of him knew he was being a dick with his attitude, but there was little he could do to tamp it down. Not when he was feeling so twitchy and on edge.
Erwin rubbed at the back of his neck, not rising to the hostility. He appeared just as tired as Levi felt and instead of engaging in the argument, he remained distant in his response. “Look. I know I came off as insensitive last night, and I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to overstep my boundaries and make you uncomfortable by urging you to tell me about your past. Especially, when you clearly weren’t ready. I had no right to do that.”
No shit.
Levi opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue as another car pulled up the driveway. Instantly, his posture tightened like a bowstring while his mind jumped erratically from one thought to the next. First, to all the locations of the kitchen knives and then whether the driver could see him inside from that angle of the house—and which spot in the living room would give him the best advantage to shift and attack once they came through the door--but if that didn’t work or multiple people surrounded the building then right before the hallway, there was the piano the he cou—
Erwin’s muttered curse pulled him back from the adrenaline already dumping in his veins, saying something about “...wished she waited a little longer before parking...”
It brought everything to a full stop as Levi’s gaze darted from the car and back to the reaper who appeared cross, putting together that Erwin was not alarmed but had anticipated the arrival. Whether aware of Levi’s staring, he set the messenger bag in the chair and draped his coat over the back, going right into explaining what was happening.
“Last night, I got a call from the caseworker that Hugh mentioned earlier,” Erwin began explaining. “While I was in the office today, I spoke to Hange about what to expect from it and she confirmed that there’ll certainly be vampire personnel in the building during the appointment. The way the Department of Wolven Resources works is different from the training facilities. The supervisors won’t ask the staff to leave the area because of your... condition. The odds of encountering vampires while there are significantly high.”
Levi didn’t know what to say to that. His prior frustrations with the reaper were a jumbled mess with confusion and dread, each trying to understand what that all meant until Erwin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. The man extracted it, unlocking the screen to type in a message before setting it on the counter.
When he still didn’t respond, Erwin continued. “We’re scheduled to meet with the caseworker on Monday, which doesn’t give us any real time to prepare. I tried to reschedule it, but they wouldn’t allow us to push it back any later. Apparently, we’re reaching the first deadline, so there’s not much getting around the meeting.”
The phone vibrated on the counter, rattling over the marble and setting Levi’s teeth on edge, even as Erwin ignored it.
“I don’t have to tell you what that means for us. But Hange and I came up with a test of sorts to measure your reactions, seeing as you’ve not been in the presence of a vampire for over a week. We hope that maybe with regular exposure, along with some in-home exercises I found, it can help weaken your triggers.”
Levi’s tumbling emotions up to that point promptly decided to skip over confusion and land squarely in shock. The feeling of an ambush was strong, despite a part of him recognizing Erwin’s logic. But two days?—not even that, seeing as it was currently late Saturday afternoon. There was no way Erwin actually expected this to work. And what exactly was his plan?
Fuck, Levi was screwed.
“You remember Hange, right?” Erwin asked, as if sensing his question. “She volunteered to come by and talk. You’re already familiar with her from the phone call the other day, and when she helped get you out of the training annex, so we assumed it’d give the best odds—”
“This is a mistake,” Levi finally cut him off. He knew he had a glare fixed in place, but he couldn’t be sure if it reflected his anxiety at the idea or anger. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No, I don’t think I am,” Erwin stated resolutely. “You controlled yourself with her before, and I’m confident you can do it again.”
Another buzz from the phone and Levi was about to throw it across the room. Instead, he managed to stay where he was, eyes darting to the door, then Erwin.
“I know you’re not happy—” Levi’s glare narrowed further, yet Erwin ignored it, “but we’re out of time. We need to at least try to see if this’ll work.”
The reaper tugged off his tie as he picked up the phone when Levi didn’t fill the lull with a response. With one last wary glance at the grim, he typed a response, and moments later there was a knock on the door.
“This is fucking mad,” Levi cut in before the reaper turned toward the entryway “You’re actively putting her at risk.”
“We’ll take it slow,” Erwin reassured. “And I’ll be right here with you both in case I need to interfere.”
Levi shook his head, chest rising and falling faster. “It’s not a good time. You can’t just spring this up on me—”
Another knock on the door and Levi’s face contorted into a toxic glower tossed at the door before he schooled it to something strained, but neutral.
What the fuck was Erwin’s game? What if Levi blacked out and lost control? What if he shifted and went after her?
“Hey,” Erwin took two steps closer to the edge of the island but stopped, not daring to breach Levi’s fragile personal space. “Trust me, Levi. I won’t let you hurt my friend. But I also need you to try like you did in the car with her. Can you do that?”
He shook his head, “How do you know I won’t—I won’t attack her?”
Another knock at the door and Levi’s eyes clenched.
“Just a minute,” Erwin snapped behind him, voice impatient and severe before he modulated it to something softer when he addressed Levi. “I know you’re capable of holding yourself back. You’ve done it before. I trust you, Levi. Hange does too.”
He wanted to call Erwin out on his bullshit lie, but that evidently was not the case. Lashing out wasn’t going to help him, for one. And two, Erwin really was extending a line of faith in Levi, giving him a chance to prove he had some self-control left to manage himself while putting his friend at risk. Like her life was a set of poker chips. Brave bastard.
“Trust me,” Erwin pacified. “I won’t let anything happen if something slips.”
It helped that he wasn’t outwardly implying in case Levi slipped.
“... Keep her—,“ Levi’s voice broke through gritted teeth, “Don’t let her get close to me.” He retreated until his lower back dug against the sink and hands gripped the ledge at his sides, turning his knuckles white.
Erwin considered him for a beat, the apologetic gleam not escaping Levi’s notice before he broke their eye contact with a nod. Levi couldn’t process that look right now—he needed to concentrate on himself.
The door opened and he could hear the hushed voices before they came around the entry wall. His nostrils flared as Hange’s scent was carried on the intruding breeze, and he immediately swallowed to rid himself of the taste. The second she was within sight, his eyes landed on her and he felt his upper lip twitch, wanting to curl into a snarl and bare his blunted teeth. It didn’t help to concentrate when his skin broke out in chills, and he felt his blood pulse, ready to shift in a moment’s notice.
“Hiya, Levi,” Hange greeted cheerfully with a wave. “Long time no see. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, which isn’t a surprise. Those shelters are equivalent to the prison system, I swear.”
He didn’t offer a response, not trusting himself as he watched her hands cut and slip through the air, obviously an animated speaker. She had enough sense to not meet his eyes straight on, either looking at his chin or the wall beside his head, though having the glasses helped to hide it whenever they caught the glare.
“Erwin said you were planning on going shopping one of these days for clothes,” she went on in her endless chatter, taking a couple steps closer to the island.
Levi stiffened further and his eyes narrowed.
Immediately, Erwin held up his arm in front of Hange, admonishing wordlessly to not get closer. She pinched her brows together, appearing confused until she capered her attention between them.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” she laughed lightheartedly. “Erwin, can you pull a chair over to me so I can sit down? I won’t get any closer to Levi.”
Erwin nodded, eyes flicking up to meet Levi’s and for a split second something passed between them. An unspoken understanding that had Levi’s next breath exhaling just a little bit easier. While the reaper was an unrelenting prick the night before, he was attuned to Levi’s body language enough to pick up on the critical signs.
Taking the stool that was rarely used by either of them, he carried it to Hange who plopped up on it and crossed her legs, kicking out in a steady rhythm.
Levi swallowed again, momentarily relieved that she put herself at a disadvantage by sitting but then his nerves enflamed at the constant movement.
“You’re doing really well right now, Levi,” she praised, cocking her head to the side as if she was watching something fascinating rather than a shifter leaning on the counter. “I expected a lot more growling like last time. I’d say this is an improvement, even if you look like you’re currently imagining me without a head.”
And then she laughed. A real laugh. Like it was some inside joke.
Oh, right... He was previously convinced she was slowly losing her mind from some sort of age sickness. Batshit crazy woman. And that was saying something when he felt he was straddling insanity himself.
“I told Erwin some of this earlier, but I did more research about the caseworkers at DWR. I was right,” she turned to Erwin beside her and then to Levi. “They’ll have that report of what happened at the rehab yesterday by the time you arrive.”
“So, they’ll get it that soon?” Erwin asked.
Hange nodded. “Unfortunately. With Levi being a fighter, non-citizen, and technically a stray, he’ll have red stamps all over his folder. And we can all agree it’s not starting off good. So far, all his records show his aggression against vampires isn’t a fluke of poor treatment from the first annex or stress from the clinic. It’s a behavioral illness.”
Levi’s lips pulled back as he snarled, “I’m not ill!”
Hange bowed her head submissively, leg freezing from its swings. “I understand it’s not a favorable label, but they won’t care about your opinion. If they can’t cure you—so to speak—then they’ll say you’re unsalvageable.”
Raking a hand through his hair, tousling it from the coifed hold, Erwin grumbled, “I’m getting tired of hearing these objectified terms.”
“You and me both,” Hange agreed. “It’s completely asinine. The entire system is, but we’re doing what we can to change it.”
Erwin turned his attention to Levi who hadn’t moved from the sink. “Hange has been petitioning for different policies to be amended for a while to benefit the wolven community. It’s been a side project for the last couple of years.”
Hange sighed, deflating in her chair. “It’s slow progress, that’s for sure. But if we can change enough minds and their perspectives, we're hoping people will see sense and disband the training reqiorements.”
Mulling over the explanation, Levi found his nose wrinkling. “Policies?”
Erwin and Hange—not so subtly—exchanged a shared glance at Levi’s question, causing the vampire to straighten in her seat with a beaming grin. Apparently, they were pleased by his tiny contribution to the topic. “Yeah. It’s not like the old times where we can simply lay siege to a government body and throw a coup d'etat. Countries are so linked and invested in each other’s plans that if that happened, you’d deal with outside forces as a response. Focusing on policies is a start to get a footing for change.”
“Sounds like a waste of fucking time,” Levi offered, words bumping into each other. He was hoping participating in the discussion would distract him from wanting to cross the kitchen and rip into Hange.
The results were... still up for debate.
Hange shrugged, unperturbed by the danger. “It doesn’t happen overnight, though it is a bloodless alternative. Your boy here,” she roughly slapped Erwin’s back, “probably has three different plots to act against the current government if it came down to it. It’s a hobby of his! Like model trains or something.”
Erwin aimed a withering glare at the vampire. “I’m going to leave you here alone with Levi and go watch tv if you don’t stay on topic.”
“Go for it,” Hange goaded daringly. “Levi’s doing great with me! It’s like we’re on our way to being best friends! Hasn’t tried to tear my throat out once!”
Once more Levi swallowed, feeling a growl develop deep in his chest as the image of him doing just that flashed across his mind. “Don’t tempt me,” he warned gravelly, not an ounce of jest behind his words.
Hange merely cackled, but Erwin had enough sense to stay exactly where he was, meeting Levi’s gaze before it jumped back to land on Hange. There was some solace in knowing Erwin recognized the predatory stare for what it was:
If she made one wrong move, Levi’s hold could very well snap.
She’s Erwin’s friend—A crazy, obnoxiously loud friend. She’s not Tybur...
“We’re getting off subject,” Erwin redirected the conversation. “How’s your weather currently, Levi?”
Taking a deep breath, Levi willed himself to shut his eyes and consider what he was feeling, but taking his gaze off the vampire was a herculean effort that lasted barely two seconds before they were open and on her again.
“Windy. And... cold.”
Erwin nodded, showing he understood, though Levi wasn’t entirely sure how the reaper was using such responses to measure his mental state. It did help to give his emotions a shape, though. Especially when he felt they were turbulent more times than not. Maybe it was just the reaper’s work around from receiving a generic ‘I’m fine’ as an answer.
“We won’t drag this out too long. I know it’s taking a lot from you, and I don’t want to push too hard. That being said, how is your hold on your control?”
“Shitty,” Levi scoffed, though it sounded forced and shingly. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“You’re doing very well, considering how you didn’t have time to prepare. How confident are you that you’ll be able to hold it if we pass employees in the building?”
Levi automatically opened his mouth to say he’ll manage. That he’d make it work—because what choice did he have? They were out of time and options, and it was only the first fucking phase. He could force himself through it.
But before he got the words out, Erwin cut him off.
“This is the last place we can afford a scene, Levi. I need an honest answer.”
“He’s right,” Hange soberly followed up. “These people will have the authority to take custody right then if they think you’re a risk. There’s not even a guarantee they’ll return you to Erwin. If they do, there’s usually a requirement that he enrolls you in a rehab facility that necessitates the initial two weeks to stay at the annex the whole time before he can start bringing you back here after classes. It’s really hard to say what will come of it, and that’s best-case scenario.”
His prior spite diminished as his shoulders shrunk from their rigid posture. Feeling his anxiety ramp up, there was a bit more freedom for his gaze to dart to the counter, Hange, the wall, and back again.
“Do you think you can be this calm, Levi?” Erwin asked, voice gentler in its urgency.
Levi’s response came out weaker than he intended. “I don’t know... Maybe if they aren’t looking at me. Or laughing. Or... drinking anything.”
Levi noticed Erwin and Hange exchanged a worrying glance, both clearly having been around each other for a long time to share the same thought process
“They’ll be looking at you, at the very least. Not really any options of getting around that.”
Hange pushed her glasses up and offered, “Maybe I can come by again tomorrow and see if there’s an improvement when we aren’t springing this on you last minute. Could even try to push the boundaries a little more.” She directed the next part to Levi alone. “Do you think you’ll be able to control yourself if I bring a bag to sip on?”
A warbling growl instantly split past his clenched teeth, causing Erwin and Hange to stiffen and flinch. With a forced cough, Levi managed to cut the rumble off, then clenched his eyes shut to shake his head—unable to voice his response.
“Ok... What if I hide it in a cup with a lid?”
He shook his head again, pushing out to tense words, “Scent it...”
The burdened silence that followed was with contemplation and discomfort. It didn’t take Levi much to understand why they had stopped asking him questions, recalling Erwin’s mock interrogation the evening prior. He really hoped the following inquiries weren’t about who Tybur took from him. He couldn’t do it. Not now.
“... Your most concerning trigger are vampires while they feed, that’s our hurtle,” Hange eventually surmised.
Plain and simple. No additional prodding at his past. Thank the devils.
She turned in the seat to face Erwin. “You’ll be walking past cubicles and it’s only natural that both smells will be present as he passes any hemovore staff. We tend to drink out of thermoses like everyone else.”
Erwin glanced at Levi, but he did well to not meet his gaze this time. That swell of mortification was drowning out his earlier defiance, leaving him feeling diminished. The reaper must have sensed it because he sighed and ran his hand through his hair once more.
“We’ll discuss it further tomorrow. I think we’ve reached our limit for the day, and I still want to discuss the EMDR.”
“Sure,” Hange slowly stood from the chair, keeping everything smooth and easy to follow. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom before I drive back?”
“Yeah, you can use mine upstairs,” Erwin stepped out of her way.
Hange nodded, smiling at Levi as she casually left the kitchen, showing no signs of worry with his eyes tracking every part of her movements.
When she was finally upstairs and the door clicked, Levi released a deep breath, feeling his chest ache from holding the rigid posture.
Erwin sidled to the island, setting a hand on it as he observed him, but Levi pretended not to notice. Being alone with the reaper while his adrenaline had no outlet, made his skin itch. Levi felt like an insect burning his way to a slow death beneath the focus of a magnifying glass, except the unbearable pin of heat was Erwin’s gaze.
“I take it you’re still upset with me, then?” Erwin broached, tone lifting in a clipped attempt at playfulness.
“Wow. I can see why you’re a consultant with GSIS,” Levi retorted dryly. “You’re like a detective or something.”
Erwin chuckled, though it held tepid humor. He pulled his attention to his finger that he ran along the gold flake in the marbled counter. “Yes, well. I suppose I do deserve that.”
Levi’s eyes darted his direction as his jaw worked. He was starting to feel... bad? Was that what he was feeling? For holding a grudge against Erwin. Despite the man’s mulish way of going about things, he wasn’t malicious or cruel. Levi was far from being a charismatic consoler himself. If the roles were reversed, he knew he wouldn’t be the best person to handle someone going through these nightmarish recollections.
He supposed he could cut the man a bit of slack.
At least, until he pissed him off again.
“You are doing really well, Levi,” Erwin tried after a few seconds passed. “I can tell you’ve improved since the last time you saw her.”
“I wasn’t in my human form then,” Levi argued dully.
“Does that make a difference?”
Levi nodded. “It blunts my sense of smell. If I was shifted, it’d probably be unbearable.”
Erwin mused on that explanation for a moment. “I wonder if that’s a difference between Grims and Lycanthropes. Mike’s sense of smell is impressive in both shapes.”
“Wouldn’t know,” Levi jerked his head toward the stairs after hearing the upstairs toilet flush, followed by the sink turning on. He took a steady breath and refocused on keeping himself locked in place.
Sensing that his reluctance to continue the discussion was not personal, Erwin waited until Hange came down and bid her goodbyes, tossing more encouragement to Levi who grunted in response. After a promise to try to stop by the next day, Erwin walked her to the car and Levi was finally able to deflate, raking his stiff hands down his face with a suppressed groan.
The knowledge that his freedom may be reaching its end left him feeling hollow.
***
The following morning Erwin woke to the bathroom door closing softly as a pale light filtered through the windows. Rolling onto his side, brain sluggishly coming back to itself as he blinked the sleep away, he hung his arm over the side of the couch. The hardwoods floors were still warm from where Levi had dozed, emitting a hum as Erwin shut his eyes.
After Hange had left, he waited for Levi to fully calm down and emerge from his bath before he started dinner. He hadn’t wanted to begin cooking as soon as Hange drove away, afraid the association would be too close to what Levi was accustomed to under Tybur’s control. But once the shifter had time to let his adrenaline settle and he was fully relaxed and feeling in his own skin, then Erwin prepared the food.
He wasn’t sure if that would need to change in the future. Perhaps, it’d be worth trying to unravel Levi’s associations by eating a meal before Hange came over. If they got another chance to try, that was.
While sprawled on the couch, kicking at the blankets to cover his bare feet, his mind drifted to the next day and what to expect as worst case. There was a strong likelihood that something would set Levi off, and he’d be taken away, possibly never returned to Erwin’s custody. The idea of that left an acute twist in Erwin’s gut, stemming from guilt of having failed Levi throughout the process. Because not only would they either euthanize him if they deemed him unsalvageable, but they could subject him to cruel treatments in a clinic first before coming to that conclusion. Or Levi could accidentally uncover that strange heating trick of his and find himself strapped to a lab table, drugged and dissected.
And Erwin? He’d be useless to stop them.
Instead, he’d be forced to return to an empty house with dredging souls slipping by on occasions. Letting the tea sit neglected in the cabinet as a cold reminder of his failure, each box and foiled bag tombstones in their own right. All a constant reminder of the Grim. And then there was the idea of not having Levi with him on another gleaning assignment.
He never got the chance to pick Levi’s brain on it, hear what his opinion was after seeing the true extent of a Reaper’s role. Every interaction following had been riddled with apprehension and clipped responses. Regardless, Erwin didn’t get the impression Levi feared him. He still had the same thorny attitude and quick wit, and each time Erwin caught Levi watching him, it was never filled with fright or dread. More like consideration or confusion before it skittered away elsewhere, always keeping Erwin at the edges of his peripheral.
Which reminded him, there would be no more secret glances of Levi reading or sipping his tea in the day’s dying light either. An unspoken solace of his.
There was no quieting the pesky voice in the back of his mind that understood the appeal of keeping Levi under his roof. Even as he stared at the increased portions of breakfast simmering in the pans, it certainly looked less depressing than his usual meals. Granted, it had only been over a week into the new arrangement—far too early to jump to conclusions on how easy it would be to adjust to another soul sharing his space. Not to mention, the thought left him wondering what that said about his character to have a bit of thrill with Levi in his home.
While true, he’s had some lurid names follow him throughout the decades, some extended as boldly as to call him a devil, he tried to live his life better. If for nothing else than the sake of his friends. They understood his capability, but he considered his morals to be strong enough to keep him honest. Stray wayward from the path but eventually straighten out for a time. Still, he was starkly aware of the curiosity of what this meant now that Levi was legally considered his—even if it was just for another 24 hours.
When he brought up the EMDR technique the night prior, Levi was tentative and unsure, even after Erwin gave him the articles to read on the laptop. He wanted the shifter to be fully aware of what the treatment entailed and how it worked, as the last thing he needed was Levi thinking Erwin was manipulating him toward his own objectives. It wouldn’t be the first time he was accused—and not wrongly—of directing their interactions to specific outcomes. That being said, Erwin was surprised when Levi agreed, mainly after he called Erwin out on fostering codependency the day prior. EMDR, in a roundabout way, would be doing just that as Erwin had to be the one keeping movement for Levi’s eyes to follow.
So long as tomorrow didn’t go to Hell in a handbasket, that was.
Positive, he chided himself. Optimism was a cruel mistress at times, but he needed to try to be positive and trust Levi would pull through.
After breakfast, the morning passed with both skulking around, once more avoiding the leering shadow of Monday on the horizon. As each hour ticked over, the disquiet seemed to amplify a little more, causing the reaper to become restless.
Things inevitably got worse when Hange called him around midday, apologizing that some last-minute budget meeting came up with the university’s faculty and she didn’t know how late it would be. She promised she would try to swing by that evening, but Erwin sensed it was unlikely to happen given traffic, which was an unfortunate situation. On the other hand, he wasn’t naïve to think that two brief discussions with Levi would be enough to quell any negative reactions during their meeting with Clint. They were too late for it to matter much by now. Not that he’d vocalize that to Levi, even if he suspected the grim was already aware.
He wanted to propose a start to the EMDR after the phone call, but they had yet to settle on a source for Levi to concentrate on. Erwin hoped to avoid waving a pencil back and forth, knowing that his arm would get tired, causing the rhythm to falter. Whenever they decided to begin the session towards managing Levi’s trauma, he wanted to ensure he avoided mistakes at all costs. Approaching that severe level of conditioning needed to be handled with care and restraint. The last thing he could afford with Levi’s trust was to make it worse.
So, until he figured out a good visual tool for Levi, he offered the possibility of light discussions as an alternative, tempting the grim by speaking on things he did feel comfortable with. Predictably, that was met by a strong surge of resistance as Levi immediately went on the defensive.
“Uh-huh. Fine, Smith. Let’s sit down, start the fire, and have a long, detailed chat about our thoughts and feelings.” Levi’s tone had turned very pointed, wielded like a weapon. “You first, yeah?”
Alright, never mind. The night of his interrogation was still very fresh and tender for the shifter.
Message received.
After casually sidestepping that landmine--with all the finesse of a three-legged racehorse—he proposed a different distraction.
“I could go for a jog. Get some fresh air. If you’d care to join me, we can go to the river...”
Despite the clunky transition, it worked. Levi’s glare had smoothed over, metaphorical hackles settled into place, and he agreed.
“Do you mind if...” Levi paused after drying his mug and returning it to the cabinet, “if I stretch my legs when we go?”
It took a moment for Erwin to realize just what Levi was asking, but when he did, the initial hesitation he thought he’d feel didn’t appear. Given how Levi’s previous jaunt through the woods in his shifted form ended in the death of a deer, Erwin found himself surprisingly eager to see more of the grim form.
“Of course, Levi. There’s no rule against that. Just let me go change and we can go.”
That was the first time he saw Levi shift and somehow it only needled at that internal guilt a little more for not taking advantage of witnessing it sooner.
The process was so quick that if he blinked, he would’ve missed it. There was a melting between shapes, blurred by a distorting haze that made it difficult to track, similar to a scythe’s manifestation. That didn’t make it any less fascinating to watch, especially as what emerged was an otherworldly canine with elongated ears, and massive unnatural paws. Although, he supposed unnatural was a subjective term. It was unnatural for a loup-garou or lycanthrope, but not a hellhound. A demon-like canine that still had a way of breaking his skin out in chills.
There was a sudden, undying desire to run his hand over Levi’s coat. To feel if it was soft and cottony, or stiff and wiry. Would it be weird to ask? It’d certainly be better than just reaching out and petting. But would asking Levi be viewed as polite or just make things awkward?
Nanaba had no problem petting and running her hands all over Mike’s shifted form with borderline-abusive scratches, however that was done out of affection or playfulness. He didn’t get either of those impressions from Levi. Not even a tail wag or toothy, canine grin. It was just the unwavering and intimidating stare.
Then, right on schedule, Mike’s warning made another lap in his mind of Levi’s behavior, and he distinctly squashed the urge to broach the subject entirely. Erwin liked his fingers and hands attached to his body. It was not worth the risk.
Begrudgingly, he admired from the tantalizingly short distance as the dappled sunlight reflected off the obscure coat in a suphuric glow. Unaware of the inner tantrum of the reaper, Levi’s usual slate gaze was flooded with a rich amber, meeting Erwin in the silent request: Ready?
With an answering honest smile, the reaper found his anticipation for the forest jog drowning the petulant mood as he took off toward the back of his property at a steady speed. Levi kept pace effortlessly, blending beneath the shadows and briars whenever he occasionally ran ahead, stretching his stride and leaping over felled trees.
The grim moved like smoke and Erwin couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
***
The stippled sunlight on the river reflected like signaling fireflies, disturbed fleetingly by a rock that skipped the surface twice before sinking with a plunk beneath the water. Levi picked up another one beside his bare foot, not taking his eyes off the ripples that fanned and disappeared with the lazy currents. That section of the river was broad, and calm compared to the area Erwin had first taken him to. Peaceful rather than threshing white caps. He found a sort of nostalgia and serenity in it as he tossed the next rock, actions smooth but clearly out of practice.
Across the river, the trees along the bank casted lengthy shadows over the bend where low branches hovered and dipped from the gentle breeze. He could see the occasional ripple break as fish picked at the insects that fluttered too close or skimmed the surface unaware of the gaping mouths beneath. That specific part of the river didn’t offer the sprawling view of the lush meadow, but Levi favored it all the same.
At his back, lounging beneath the shade of a tree, Erwin alternated between watching the sky through bare branches, Levi tossing stones, or closing his eyes and relaxing. His hair was tousled and stuck to his forehead, unlike the grim who didn’t sweat in his canine form; therefore, he looked just as he did before they started the run. It was a perk to shifting between strenuous exercises, but his muscles would still feel the ache, just as his heart had pounded from exertion.
It felt like ages since Levi was able to stretch his legs and sprint. The few times he was able to get anywhere close were during fights staged in larger arenas rather than cramped pens. And although he hated to admit it, Levi may not have been able to suppress a few tail wags while he waited for Erwin to catch up. However, if the reaper noticed or ever got the bright idea to bring it up, Levi would deny it ever happened.
Picking a flatter rock, Levi adjusted his angle and let it skip. Once again, he was rewarded with a meagre two hops, emitting an exasperated sigh from him. Disheartened, Levi searched for another, knowing it wasn’t the rock that was wrong, but just another part of himself.
“I used to be good at this,” he mumbled beneath his breath, recalling the times he and his companions would waste a day away doing something strikingly similar.
The comment was meant for just him—some little self-depreciation without officially acknowledging the internal ache-- but judging by Erwin’s curious tilt of his head from the corner of his eye, he suspected the nosy bastard heard him. At least Erwin kept any inquiring comments to himself.
It went on for a bit like that. Each taking refuge in their personal space. Unfortunately, Levi’s practice and adjustments only rewarded him with a third skip of a rock, causing his frustration to grow and mood to sour. He thought he was doing well enough in hiding his disappointment; quietly exhaling between the sad three ripples before finding another victim to sink into the river. Even suppressing the stiffening line of his shoulders, the added aggression in his throws, or the way his fingers twitched as they tried to curl into fists... Sadly, in the end, it was just another thing he failed at.
As he picked up two more rocks, he noticed Erwin was no longer lying on his back with his arms pillowing his head, but was now upright and focused; his knees bent and elbows resting overtop. Levi could feel his gaze boring into him, and when he accidentally met that observant gaze, he had to tamper a flinch at suddenly feeling exposed.
“Are you alright, Levi?”
Levi turned away. “I’m fine.”
There was a pregnant pause that he used to adjust his hand around the rock, curling his index finger and thumb around the edge. He tried to unearth snippets of his memory where Furlan had shown him how to set the stone into the arch of his palm and flick the wrist, but then—like every other time recalling his brother—a flash of a twitching leg against cobbled stones and swelling dark puddle jolted him as if he’d been hit.
“Do you... Do you want to talk about it?”
The gentleness in Erwin’s voice scraped something raw inside him because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Not all the effort being made for him, not the way they danced around his half-truths. There was a festering wound inside that couldn’t seem to scar over right and that question spliced the tender scab wide open.
This isn’t a game—you killed a deer, but what if it was something else? A person, for God’s sake?
Here Erwin was so damn worried that Levi would have an involuntary repeat of that night—possibly escalated to a human or supra – and yet, Levi couldn’t bring himself to admit it was far too late. He had crossed that bridge and burnt it from the opposite bank.
There was no going back.
He didn’t deserve all their efforts and gentleness being invested in him.
The next stone plunked unforgivingly into the water, a slender fountain bursting skyward.
“No—I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped, glaring over his shoulder before going back to looking for another rock, despite one still in his hand.
Erwin let the topic die where it started, frowning as he watched the grim scour the bank for stones to his liking. Even after another two, then three, Levi kept at it until he had a growing mound in his palm. The reaper kept shooting brooding glances at him, as if it’d whittle at his resolve to keep it bottled, but he ignored them.
Meandering a little further away in hopes he could get out from under Erwin’s observation, Levi knew it was a childish solution. But what was he supposed to do? Just spill everything to the man, kindly inform Erwin that he was housing a murderer who had taken more lives than what they suspected in the fighting rings, or the unlucky vampires tossed to him? Granted, it was rare to find a Supra who lived so long and hadn’t killed someone through the lawless centuries, but even for a reaper, there was a distinct difference between killing someone over an offense, and eating someone innocent just for a selfish goal. As pragmatic as Erwin was, he made it very clear he did not condone murder for the sake of it. Or, apparently, the sake of not starving.
... but what if it was something else? A person...
Levi halted as something caught his eye near the lapping water, followed by the cloying scent of decay. Stepping closer, he recognized a fish’s corpse, trout by the look of it, with toothpick ribs cleaned by tiny mouths and hundreds of scuttling legs. It sent a cold tingle along his spine, like someone dragging a finger down his back at the similarities to his recent thoughts.
With a scowl, he backed away from it and twisted to retreat to his previous spot. Being a hellhound, he had a natural sensitivity to omens, and while most were vague with multiple meanings, he sensed this one was directed at his emotional turmoil. Or his imminent death. But he hoped that if it was meant as the latter, he’d at least get something a little grander as a warning. Like a shooting comet, or solar eclipse, or even an owl.
Halting at the same spot as before, Levi picked a rock from his pile and tried to frisbee it over the water, all too aware of Erwin’s magnetized attention settling onto his back again.
While Levi pretended not to notice, he couldn’t shake that there was a razor thin line right between the precarious stability and him falling apart again. The last thing he wanted was to step into a conversation where Erwin’s particular form of blunt honesty was more likely to push him over it than not.
But the reminder of the decayed fish hovered at his side, too small and far to see from where he stood, but still felt like a physical presence at his shoulder. He did his best to ignore it, to keep pretending it was only him on the bank—blocking out the reaper, ghosts, and omens.
The pale sky had begun to unfurl into a delicate pink as the sun dipped lower. He predicted it would become a vibrant display tonight, no clouds to hinder the fiery glow of colors as the day reached its end. A beautiful way to go and yet Levi couldn’t help but feel envious.
If things really went to shit tomorrow, he doubt his death would be glorious and scenic. Most likely dreary and cold and alone, save for the strangers in lab coats that would surround him. Or maybe it would be just one faceless person, coming in and slipping a needle in the crook of his elbow and walking out, never uttering a word to him. Quiet and lonely. Unless, he fought tooth and nail to escape before that could happen, breaking out and running away if he could.
Then again, what sort of consequences would that hold for Erwin?
Why do I care? The only reason he helped me was because he wants Tybur. He’s not actually concerned with what happens beyond that—it was just him using a resource to get to his goal. A rock barely skipped two times, causing him to grit his teeth. I don’t owe him anything. If it comes down to it, I’ll escape and never see him again.
But even as Levi tried to concrete those thoughts into a solid resolve, he couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. There was no denying both supras were filled with trepidation for the meeting, and in their unsocialized (well, Levi’s part) awkwardness (and Erwin’s), the reaper never once tried to question him or pry any last-minute information about the Tybur Coven. In fact, majority of the conversations were bridged with regards to Levi. His EMDR treatment, how he was feeling, spitting out random suggestions to use for this and that treatment, along with other unwanted facts about trauma recovery.
It was all about Levi.
And now Erwin was trying to reconcile with him again, opening a line of communication in case he wanted to just talk. Have another soul to listen to instead of keeping everything fortified within. Perhaps Levi was being unfair in his judgement of Erwin. It was probably another reflection of just how jaded he’d become.
Would he be acting this way if it was Furlan or Izzy sitting on the bank and asking him to get something off his chest?
The answer hurt to think about.
“He... it was a close friend that taught me how to do this,” the words slipped free, despite Levi refusing to break his gaze with the river as he absently rolled the smooth rock in his hand. “We used to laze around a lake and compete to see how many skips we could get. After I picked up the technique, I usually won those challenges.”
“Was your friend a Grim like you?”
Levi didn’t respond as he felt his gaze become distant. To answer would be to open more of that wound, which would supply Erwin with more knowledge, leading to questions Levi refused to admit. Besides, why did it matter to Erwin if they were hellhounds or not? What did any of it matter to someone who would never have the chance to meet them?
...it does a disservice to whoever it happened to by saying it doesn’t matter...
Levi dipped his head, rubbing at his temples to dispel the ache behind his eyes. Why did that hurt so much to think about? As if Levi was dishonoring them some way, which would never be his intentions—regardless of how shit his life became.
Taking a breath, he straightened, and after a while more, when it was clear Erwin wasn’t going to press, he answered.
“Furlan was human. Him and Izzy.”
He released the breath and threw the rock.
Six skips.
Any enthusiasm he expected to feel was diluted by the hurt from speaking their names into existence once more. Here these articles Erwin had him read said a patient would experience a lighter mindset after talking about upsetting circumstances to someone. A bunch of bullshit because Levi felt like he was standing knee deep in quicksand.
“Does it feel like your memories are stifled at all?” Erwin asked, blessedly not sticking on a painful subject for too long. “I know severe distress can cause the mind to filter or block specific memories, even those before the abusive events.”
Levi scoffed, tossing another stone but only getting four bounces across the surface.
“No. None of it's repressed. It’s all... right there.” Levi scowled as he gestured to nothing in front of him. Especially now without his body straining for survival, everything felt at his fingertips. “Makes me wonder if it was done intentionally just for this very reason: So, I’d have to endure it even when I’m not a prisoner anymore.”
There was a rustle of fabric followed by the crunch of dried leaves as Erwin sidled to his left. He didn’t look at Levi, instead choosing to stare at the opposite bank, shoulder-to-shoulder. Isolating introspection. Neither spoke right away, one foot in their thoughts, the other present beside the river.
“How much does Tybur know about you? Does he know what you are?”
“No,” Levi answered, finding it easier to talk to the reaper when he kept the subjects turning like a rolodex. “Since the first moment I met him, he knew I was something different—even suspected I wasn’t wolven, but I never told him. The woman, Lara, never found out either, but that didn’t stop them from trying.”
“It’s curious that he chose to use force rather than appealing to your rational self. For someone who navigates the social ladder, you’d think he’d use common sense and apply charm instead.”
Another reminder of the differences between the two men. While Erwin’s inclination toward contrivances was worrisome--and what some would argue as more dangerous--Levi found he wasn’t as concerned as he should be. Plus, it wasn’t like Tybur hadn’t tried manipulating Levi into compliance. He just went about it in a different way.
“The bastard is an ancient creature who’s been leashed into submission in order to fit into his high-class status. If I was despondent, he’d grow bored and try something else to keep me interesting. I was just a toy for him.” Even when I was too weak to feed myself, he still got bored and found new ways to torture me. “He said he liked me when I was fighting my limits.”
In the corner of his eye, Erwin’s relaxed figure seemed to shut down, the bubble that encapsulated them gone cold. For the briefest flash, the encroaching shadows of the nearest trees had taken the shape of cruel angles, but when Levi blinked, everything was as it should. Sending a cautious glance to Erwin, he saw the reaper’s jaw was set, and Levi didn’t know how he felt about that or understand the way his instincts were suddenly disturbed by the change.
Erwin having a personal vendetta against Tybur was one thing, but this felt like a spur of anger on Levi’s behalf. Which wasn’t exactly unexpected given the circumstances, yet that didn’t mean it wasn’t confusing.
“Mercy has a way of coming around to you, Levi. So does cruelty to those who deserve it.”
Levi’s face tightened as he mulled over the odd string of words. “What? Are you implying Fate or karma will be Tybur’s downfall?”
“Fate has known to take various shapes, just as some would argue with the many acts of Gods.”
Levi replied with a noncommittal sound that pulled Erwin’s attention away from the opposite side of the river. It was a stupid thing to fixate on, and Levi wondered why the reaper seemed so intrigued by the noise.
“Fate will have a fight on her hands if she tries to take Tybur’s soul from me.”
There was a curious tilt to Erwin’s head. “I don’t think I ever asked what you planned to do to Tybur if you got the chance to confront him.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Perhaps, but this is me asking now.”
“You won’t like the answer, Blondie. If I told you, then you wouldn’t be able to claim ignorance if anyone asked you about it later.”
“As if I care about that,” Erwin said with an amused huff which had a miniscule smile almost forming from Levi. “Come on, I’m genuinely interested. No judgement here.”
Levi arched a brow at that, using one of the rocks as a distraction to distance himself from engaging too much with the reaper. There were four imprints of ripples again before the rock sank.
“How do I know I can trust that you won’t freak out? Or you won’t interfere and try to stop me?”
It was Erwin’s turn to lift a brow, crooked smirk curling to match. “You’ve already witnessed me bend and break how many rules now? Please, Levi. Don’t assume the way I present myself is all that I am.”
“Oh, trust me,” Levi murmured, not caring if Erwin could hear his sarcastic response, “I recognize your taste for manipulating things for your end goals.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
That gave Levi pause.
There was truth in that statement, and at first glance, Levi would say it was only due to the convenience for him as opposed to taking off and fending for himself while hunting the vampire. But on the other hand, it wasn’t exactly easy staying here either. Not with the awkwardness, fights, his own recollections unburying themselves to haunt him, subjecting the grim to degrading training sessions with strangers...
The entire situation was weird and hard to follow.
Erwin wasn’t cruel, though he could be an ass. He wasn’t conniving, although those sneaky influences to get Levi to open up were fucking annoying. Despite that, Levi recognized those tricks and had defied them when he wanted to. But the rest of it—the trainings, the nightmares—were not used as tools for Erwin to further his goals. They were obstacles Erwin was wanting to beat together.
“Yeah,” Levi relented quietly. “I’m still here.”
An open, pleasant smile unfolded from the smirk as Erwin nodded in agreement. A breeze sifted over the river, ruffling the straw locks from his forehead. “If you don’t want to tell me your plans, that’s fine. You were right before. My curiosity is not a pass for entitlement.”
Levi huffed, wondering when in the last 10 minutes he decided to throw out his sanity and preservation. How he went from snapping at the man to—what?—practically holding a civil conversation? A friendly one at that.
Maybe it was the encroaching sunset, the possibility it was his last night of peaceful freedom, standing by someone who was the closest thing to a friend since he lost his companions. Perhaps, it was Erwin actually giving him space to talk if he wanted to, rather than the belligerent questioning.
Whatever the case, Levi decided that if Erwin judged him for it, then who cared? It didn’t change anything with Levi’s plans. Plus, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Erwin already knew he wanted Tybur dead.
The fragmented smile that slipped across Levi’s face was not the type to light up a room, rather it revealed his unholy thoughts.
“Tear his skullcap from his brain like the rind of a citrus from its flesh. Then devour his soul just to make sure he never finds peace in the afterlife.”
The ultimate retribution. A taboo and even a sin in some benevolent hellhound circles. Erasing existence.
He lifted his eyes expectantly to Erwin when he didn’t respond, daring him to say something. “What? Does that disturb you?”
“No,” he answered breathily without hesitation. “Sorry... I was just appreciating your ability to string poetry from death.” An almost nervous chuckle, “Forgive me. It’s... You’d be surprised how many supras have shied away from death over the centuries. Of course, humans always have feared mortality, but it’s refreshing to listen to others’ perspectives on it.”
Levi’s brows knitted together as he regarded the man. “You’re so fucking strange. I’m not sure what that means, but I thought you were supposed to uphold the law and stop people from murdering. Thou shalt not kill, and shit.”
He shrugged, offering a vague response. “We adhere to laws, but you’ll find majority do not submit. It comes with the territory with Reapers, along with our unusual behaviors from the other Surpa communities. Take Nana, for example. She may appear sweet and gentle in one second, but in the next, she’ll spout something off the wall that makes Mike nauseous. To any other reaper, it’s a normal conversation.”
“Well, Mike sort of seems like a narkey-hole sod, so that doesn’t surprise me.”
The reaper made a strangled noise in his throat that promptly turned into a mild coughing fit that had him bracing on his knees for air. For the briefest moments, it startled Levi, which turned into confusion, and then a fleeting second of concern that Erwin couldn’t breathe. But as it passed, the breaths turned into a strained laughter.
“I’m not sure what he did to earn that impression from you, but I’m not going to correct it,” he said as the humor died down, and he regained his composure. Erwin glanced at the sky, then flashed him another smile. “What do you say we head back? I’m thinking it’s a popcorn and movie kind of night.”
“Sure,” Levi agreed, surprising himself how quick he replied. He decided to blame it on the fact he hadn’t seen a movie in three decades. Not about the strange feeling at seeing the reaper look genuinely happy, or how his buzzing thoughts had finally fallen quiet.
***
After returning to the cabin, they each took turns getting cleaned up from the run and Erwin made popcorn, two full bags to be precise, before they settled on the couch. Once more they took up opposite ends, allowing the mixing bowl to sit on the middle cushion.
It took some channel surfing between streaming services to decide on what a good movie to watch would be, seeing as Levi had not witnessed the evolution of films from the last three decades. And apparently, before that, movies were thinly spaced out, as he explained that he and his friends were always moving around. Erwin was curious as to why that was, but decided to quell his questions and allow Levi to reveal what he wanted, when he wanted.
The approach had worked surprisingly well so far.
That being said, Erwin found himself a little under pressure to find a good movie to reintroduce Levi to. The grim didn’t help much when he asked what he was interested in. Comedy, drama, action, thriller. Each question was met with a shrug. Eventually, Erwin settled on a classic he was sure Levi hadn’t watched with dinosaurs and a park. Much to his amusement, it seemed to be a winner as Levi was enraptured by it, absently reaching for popcorn while the tyrannosaurus wreaked havoc on a vehicle.
Annoyingly, it was around that time that Erwin got a phone call with Hange’s name flashing up on the screen.
“I’ll be back,” Erwin told Levi who gave him a questioning raise of his brow. “You can keep watching the movie.”
Walking to the laundry room to not disturb Levi or have background noise, he answered the call to a near vibrating vampire.
“Erwin! Erwin!! How’s everything going?”
“It’s fine, Hange. What’s going on?”
“How’s Levi? Is he there?”
“He’s watching tv. Why did you call? I thought we agreed you didn’t have to worry about stopping by after work.”
“Well, yeah—that’s true, but the meeting ended earlier, and I was going to swing by anyway but then Nanaba called me on my way back and told me she found something that I had to check out, so I went back to GSIS to see what it was and then—oh, my gosh, Erwin! It’s here!”
Erwin tried to withhold a frustrated sigh at the word vomit from his friend, willing patience to work through the hyperactive discussion. “Slow down. What’s there?”
“Our solution! Seriously, I never would've thought to look here of all places, but then it's also the strange way that life works, huh? Really, you won't—hey!”
“Hello, Erwin,” another feminine voice greeted, belonging to the person he suspected apprehended Hange’s phone.
“Hey, Nana. What’s going on?”
In the background, he could hear Hange’s complaints, but Nanaba ignored them. “Ok, so you know how Hange’s been scouring for loopholes for Levi?”
Erwin’s earlier annoyance vanished as he perked up. “Yes. What about it?”
“First, don’t get your hopes up, but we may have found something that’ll work. Earlier Shadis and Mike were talking, and Mike made a comment about how the director was being lenient on you working from home—mostly as a joke about you two getting along better. Shadis told him that the contract technically ended, and you were agreeing to consult on the case even though you didn’t have to.”
“Well, that’s nice of him to say,” Erwin said dryly. “Must have missed the part of the discussion where it was optional.”
Nanaba laughed. “Look, I’m not getting in the middle of you two. That’s No Man’s Land and I’m not looking to get shot. The point is, Shadis said he wasn’t going to be a dick and force you into the office everyday of the week.”
“Is that paraphrasing or word for word?”
“That’s the gist of it,” she answered vaguely. “You know he’s too prideful to ever admit to being a dick. Anyway, Mike then got to thinking about contracts and remembered there was that old policy in place ages ago when GSIS was starting out as its own branch. We looked into it and low and behold, it’d never been updated or removed!”
Hange’s voice was less clear, but he could tell she was close to the phone to talk to him. “Yeah, so after the appropriate number of Reapers were enlisted for GSIS, it seems the policy probably stuck around in case they ever needed it for expansion in the future or something. Or maybe it was always there for a back-up, I don’t know, but it’s still there!”
Erwin was trying to follow along, wrack his brain for what regulations they were talking about pertaining to GSIS, but he was coming up short. He hadn’t been a part of the federal agency when it was starting out, but Hange had.
“What policy?”
***
Hearing the reaper’s padded footfalls, he glanced over the back of the couch, expecting neutral observation in return. Perhaps a hint of that tentative amusement that Erwin seemed to fear translating into a smile when reentering a fresh interaction with Levi. But that wasn’t the case.
Instead, Erwin walked it with an underlying enthusiasm in his movements, the picture of self-satisfied confidence. He looked like a big fucking cat. Like a cat who just drank your tea off the table and wanted you to know he did it.
Instantly, Levi was suspicious, popcorn and movie forgotten as he watched the reaper return to his seat with critical scrutiny.
“What?” he demanded when Erwin didn’t speak right away.
Erwin met his gaze, the smugness washed out by a bright shimmer of relief that only put Levi more on edge. Some voice in his mind consoled him that these were positive signs. That Erwin must have received some good news.
But Levi wasn’t so ready to believe that good things and this were quite the same yet.
Notes:
Things are happening!!!
Next chapter wraps up Arc 2 and then we'll be in the larger and final Arc. Sorry for the lateness again with the chapter. 4 days of migraines aren't fun, but I'm determined to try getting back to regular Wed/Thurs postings.
I hope everyone is doing great and thank you for all the amazing support! It really keeps me motivated on progressing the story! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 20: Modus Vivendi
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
Modus vivendi: way of life; can also describe a practical compromise or arrangement in any context where parties with different views or needs must find common ground.
________________________________________________
This is a stupid plan.
They stepped out from under bright overhead lights with plastic covers, and onto the next level. The vault-like doors slid shut behind them followed by the faint whirl as the elevator descended with its remaining occupants.
Unlike the ground floor, the level they were on currently wasn’t nearly as open and sparse. They were still surrounded by walls of glass, as one expected from an infrastructure trying to grow into a damn skyscraper. Although the larger rooms on the outer edge did have portions of drywall and blinds to mimic privacy. Natural light clashed with the halogens overhead, but surprisingly it wasn’t too harsh for Levi’s eyes. Then again, he religiously kept them bolted on the ground, a few paces ahead of where he was putting his feet. It was the safest spot for them.
In his peripheral, he made out the grey wall dividers in the center of the floor where private cubicles were herded into a neat formation. Name plates with the units and roles were fastened to the wall of each entrance and every few feet, his olfactory senses were assaulted with new odors and ears buzzing with sounds. The click of a stapler. The scent of someone’s chicken salad sandwich. Shuffle of papers. Sliding drawer of a file cabinet. Coffee, sage, someone blowing their nose, cognac cologne, idle chatter, something sweet and something spicy like incandescent wood and red ginger.
There was a certain level of performance when interacting with people, which was something Levi was deeply out of practice with. Fortunately—or unfortunately—he dedicated all his energy to watching the carpet pass by, dipping his chin to inhale from Erwin’s jacket around him, and tried to block out anything that would hint there was a vampire in the vicinity. He knew they were there—knew there were probably a couple on that floor with him now—but he vehemently pretended otherwise.
The hand that took residence on Levi’s shoulder had moved to settle at his nape, but it never scruffed. Simply brushed his thumb over the knots of Levi’s spine for reassurance, assuaging the situation without a word. He could feel the cool silver of the cufflink catch on the jacket when he was directed down a new hall, but it didn’t bother him, even as the pace quickened past specific offices, which Levi pretended not to notice. He made sure to hold his breath in those instances.
As they continued to their destination, Erwin held him steady where they connected at the hinge of his wrist and vertebrae. Levi’s so-called and self-appointed pillar, diligently bore the weight of the metaphorical ceiling from ruin. And really it wasn't far off from the truth. Erwin looked like he’d never collapse under the distress Levi felt, with his Hollywood poise, fixed shoulders, and poster-boy morality shining out of him like a damn beacon. And yet Levi felt as if he would. Like a dying star, he’d breakdown and bring destruction on anyone too close before blipping into nothingness.
Such a stupid, risky plan.
Despite his inner turmoil, Erwin didn’t once relinquish his hold. He maintained a balanced pace, kept Levi moving without appearing rushed. Careful and attentive, almost protective in his method as his gaze continued to flit toward him, monitoring any sign of being set off.
Erwin finally drew them to a stop at a closed office door holding a placard distinctly larger than the previous ones; with prim gold embossed letters announcing whose territory lay beyond. The reaper gave a curt two-rasped knock, which was followed by an unwelcoming, laconic voice permitting entrance from within.
“I’ll do all the talking,” Erwin reminded quietly beside him before opening the door.
Levi didn’t supply him with a response, not planning to speak and risk making things worse. They only had one shot at this.
The door swung open to reveal a finely furnished office that was typical of someone sworn to keep and uphold state secrets. As predicted, in the center of room was a pretentious desk that looked like it weighed as much as a house, and yet the intent of professional elegance was ruined by a hideous avocado green leather chair. In the seat, with the attitude as if sitting on a throne, a darker complexioned man with frown lines creasing around his lips waited for them to fully enter. His attention wavered between probing and defensive as it raked over Levi, all while folding his hands together in front of his mouth in appraisal. Not paying the cold welcome any mind, Erwin shut the door politely behind them before coming to stand in front of the desk, and Levi followed, doing his best not to let his thoughts read out over his face.
He got the impression the man before him was the type with too many words and not enough sense, while holding the power to make them very uncomfortable if push came to shove.
“Smith,” the man greeted, eyeing the reaper with a hint of disdain. “Mind telling me why your witness is here after I received an email of a policy that was written over 75 years ago last night?”
“Shadis, this is Levi,” Erwin introduced, ignoring his question. “Levi, this is Division Director Shadis whom we work under.”
Levi and Shadis met each other’s gaze in which Levi relinquished a tactful nod. The man stared at him for a beat then looked away.
Bald jackass.
“You know that policy can be argued as outdated, right?” Shadis went on to ask, lifting a stapled cluster of papers over the desk as reference. It probably wasn't a good thing the motherfucker felt the need to print it out. He was probably trying to find a clause to deny Erwin’s request. “Just because no one deleted it from the regulations doesn’t mean its active.”
“Until someone does omit the policy, it’s still legally valid,” Erwin countered. “You know as well as I do, we don’t pick and choose which policies are justified to follow.”
“Even so, the fact you’re nominating your, quite literal, pet-project,” he gestured toward Levi, “when I have video evidence of him attacking you and Jean on GSIS grounds is absurd. Why isn’t he in the shelter or training facility? Don’t tell me you were stupid enough to adopt him.”
“That’s precisely what happened," Erwin retorted bluntly, allowing an edge to harden his words.
Shadis stared at Erwin for a long unblinking moment, as if trying to spot where the fellow reaper was lying and pulling his chain. As if everything up to that point was some elaborate prank.
“The answer is no.”
“And for what reason are you denying it?”
“Are you seriously asking that, Smith? If I allowed him to fulfill the policy obligation, and he goes off the rails, that’s career suicide.”
“Ironic phrasing.”
“Don’t fucking disrespect me in my own office, Smith. Not when I’m the one with the final say.”
Erwin held up his hands placatingly. “At least do me the justice of telling you why it would benefit us both before you shoot my request down.” When Shadis looked ready to deny him again, Erwin tacked on, “Our case may even benefit from the arrangement if you hear me out.”
From what Erwin had told Levi; the serial murders had been forefront of media and topic of discussions with the bureaucrats in both Supra and human agencies, well past gaining national attention. Dangling a potential increase in odds to close the case was sure to be an appealing offer to the mulish director.
“You’re not going to drop this unless I hear what you have to say, are you?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he leaned back in the chair with a flinty stare. “Fine, but this is between you and me. I’d like him to step out.”
Involuntarily, Levi stiffened, eyes shooting to the side where Erwin mirrored him. Was he serious?
“Is that a problem?” Shadis asked, an eyebrow arching challengingly.
“I feel,” Erwin began, “that seeing as this concerns Levi, he has a right to listen.”
“He’s not a part of GSIS. He has no privilege that is owed. Now get him out or we’re done with this discussion.”
Levi drew in a subtle breath before nodding, meeting Erwin’s gaze once more. An unspoken line of concern passed between them, both for Levi not having someone step in if a vampire walked by and Erwin for being on the opposite side of the door. But the grim tried to keep those worries tucked inside as he walked to the entryway, reminding himself that so long as he didn’t look and kept his nose in the jacket, he should be fine. And if not... well, Erwin was just inside the room. He would rush out and stop Levi from hurting someone.
As he opened the door, he was startled to see that Erwin had followed him, disguising the gesture as escorting him out. He leaned down to whisper something, probably reassuring, under his breath to Levi but before the words could take shape, Erwin’s head jerked up at the sight of someone down the hallway.
“Eren--do you have a moment?”
“Smith!" Shadis called from behind, "I don’t have all day—”
But Erwin ignored Shadis as the brunet in the corridor looked up from the papers in hand.
“Uh, sure,” Eren answered, walking toward the director’s office while his gaze bounced between Levi and the reaper. “What’s up?”
Behind them, Levi could hear Shadis gripe about Erwin getting on his nerves and preparing to kick them both out.
“This is Levi. Levi, Eren. One of the members of Nanaba’s team,” Erwin introduced casually, though a beat faster than normal. Had Levi not been living with the man, it may have escaped his notice that there was an underlying panic which threaded the words, barely kept from being rushed out. Even the smile felt like it was paper thin. “Do you mind showing him to the conference room while I finish the meeting? Maybe he can catch up with Mike?”
Ah, so that’s what Erwin’s plan was. Push him off to a babysitter. If it was any other situation, he would have been pissed, however given that Mike knew of Levi’s little problem with control, it was the safest alternative if he couldn’t stay with Erwin.
“Uh, sure. Nice to meet you, Levi?” Eren greeted with a lopsided grin.
“Smith!”
“Alright,” Erwin sent another pointed look at Levi. “I’ll meet you after I’m finished.” The door shut, leaving the grim with the towering wolven who continued to stare at him as if Levi was something fascinating, even as they didn't move to leave the corridor.
Was Eren waiting for him to say something? Levi wasn’t sure. He could tell Eren was younger than him with his lengthy mass of locks pulled into a messy bun that implied fingers rather than comb. There was an amused gleam that sat under the curiosity of his gaze, and Levi truly hoped it wasn’t aimed at their apparent height difference. That was one way to get on his bad side quickly.
If Levi had to speculate, the wolven was lycanthrope variety and he could already see four to five points where he would strike him if they were ever in a fight. Not that he intended for that to occur, but it was a habit of his whenever a wolven was in his vicinity to size them up. Just in case.
Perhaps that’s what Eren was doing to him. Sensing he was a fellow shifter and gauging his status. The pack hierarchy process was too complicated for Levi to understand, especially when he never been in a large group of shifters. His uncle and cousin were the closest things to it, and there was a natural order based on their variance in ages. Not based on an instinctive process where strength and cunning were weighed and measured to assign rank of importance.
“So, uh, conference room, right? I’ll take you there,” Eren eventually spoke, then turned as Levi fell into step willingly. “I know we haven’t met officially before now, but I've been hearing a lot about you.”
Levi felt his shoulders draw into a stiff line. “Like what?”
“Well, just updates mostly, but I was there that day when you busted out of the transport van,” he beamed a sheepish smile. “Pretty crazy, but I understand if you don’t remember me. There was a lot going on. You did scare the piss out of Jean though. I can’t wait to see his face when he meets you again.”
“Is Jean a wolven?” Levi asked, not recalling who belonged to that name but best to avoid the possibility of crossing with a vampire. Even as they walked toward the room Eren was about to enter before Erwin called, he maintained a weather eye.
“He wishes he'd be so lucky! Nah, he’s a reaper. But I’ve always assumed he’s got some Seabiscuit blood in him” The kid laughed at some joke that Levi wasn’t privy to, nor was he about to ask.
***
“So, let me make sure I’m getting this straight,” Shadis flicked the corner of the stapled page as he glared at Erwin. “You want your witness to bypass the mandatory rehabilitation endorsement, and instead serve his time under GSIS for the year? You are aware he must do so honorably and without reprimand, correct? I feel like you missed that feature of the regulation, or else you wouldn’t be wasting my time with this.”
“You honestly think he wouldn’t be able to accomplish that?” Erwin challenged; one leg folded over the other with laced fingers in his lap.
“He’s already caused two major scenes on premises during his residence as a prisoner.”
“One of which was a partially sedated state that justifiably caused confusion and panic. The other was not his fault. Those intruders came here looking for him.”
“The point isn’t how these situations came about; it’s the fact he attracts trouble. And you want to have him help on this copy-cat case?”
“We don’t know for sure if it is a copy-cat or another person seduced by Grice. I assumed as I am currently assigned to it, Levi would be as well. However, if you see fit to assign him elsewhere...”
“Oh, no. First, don’t imply that I’ve made my decision to allow this charade of yours, Smith. Second, do not mistake me for an imbecile to split you two up. He’s your responsibility seeing as you were moronic enough to adopt him.” Shadis shook his head. “I’m still inclined to deny the request. I’m certain the policy shouldn’t even be in effect after so long.”
“Why not?” Erwin argued, impatience bleeding through. It didn’t help that he kept his ears trained on noises from outside the office, each second growing more nervous when he didn’t hear anything. It was the suspense that was killing him, not the lack of chaos. Silence was good. Silence meant Levi was safely away from vampires. “The military subscribes to the same policy for non-citizens. So long as they serve honorably for at least a year, they gain naturalization status in the U.S. The regulation was put in place when GSIS was starting out to gain employees quickly with government enticement, knowing wolvens would be the highest demographic in need of jobs.”
“That was almost a century ago, Smith. Reapers have taken up their roles as intended since then. As for the other demographics still work here, they are qualified experts that have degrees and experience for these jobs. We are far from desperate for new blood.”
“I’m not asking you to post it on a public bulletin board or propose it to Congress. I’m asking you to allow Levi to serve his year instead of going through WMC.”
“And why can’t he go through the proper protocols? I fail to see why you don’t just follow the rules for once in your goddamn life and do what is asked with WMC. You adopted the witness! Own up to the responsibility!”
“As you’ve stated, Levi is a witness and a victim. Putting him through strenuous trainings isn’t healthy for him just so he can earn his obedience certificate. You know as well as I do WMC disguises these conditionings under the prettier term ‘rehabilitation’, when history has labeled it as psychological torture in other settings. We have an obligation to his care as a victim of our case.”
“Nice try, but your argument just shot you in your own foot. By him being tied to the case, it just goes to show he’s too close to be allowed on the job. And I refuse to pull you from the job just to assign you both somewhere else.”
“His knowledge would only benefit the team.”
“He would breed bias.”
“He’d offer internal insight that we otherwise wouldn’t get.”
Shadis sighed, pinching his temples as if to ward off a headache. “As I’ve said. He’s a loose cannon. He should be in the WMC programs to be approved for permanent ownership. Not working cases under you.”
“Why? Because he’s wolven? I noticed that it was only as of late that you started handling illegal fighting rings seriously and nailing anyone who was guilty. Is this denial a carry-over from past prejudice?”
“Don’t you dare throw that at me, Smith. You know I have no bias against wolvens.”
“By omitting your protests of the mistreatment of others, it does not absolve you of guilt for being compliant to it... If you won’t let him work off his year under your supervision, then I will require appropriate time throughout the week to ensure he’s getting to his trainings and caseworker appointments. That will be priority over the case.”
Shadis fixed him with a disbelieving stare. “And you think he will require your attention that frequently?”
“Twice a day. Drop-off and pick-up from the training annex and regular appointments with the caseworker assigned to us. Plus, any remedial lessons they may or may not add,” Erwin listed flatly.
Shadis glowered, displeased by every angle Erwin was desperately exploiting. If they couldn’t use Levi’s year under GSIS, he feared there was little other options standing between them and the horrid obedience schools. They desperately needed this to work. If they went through the WMC programs, Levi would forever—or at least for the distant future—hold the status of a reformed stray. A pet.
“Alternatively,” Erwin proposed, drawling the word out, “if he was to serve his year honorably under GSIS, I would—as you said—take responsibility. Meaning I would need to stay on for the entire year as well. Not just for the current case. If Levi does anything out of line, I can take the blame personally as a consultant, but the guise will be I’m working under you.”
“It isn’t a guise. The documents will be real; therefore, you'll be employed by me like old times.”
Erwin shrugged, aware it was practically the same thing, but if it made Shadis feel better to clarify, then so be it.
“There is a condition I have,” Shadi said after a moment. “The bond. I want it implemented as a failsafe if he starts working here.”
Erwin felt his mask crack before he hastily schooled his expression. “The bond isn’t required until the end of a wolven’s rehabilitation. And if Levi is gaining citizenship through naturalization, he won’t have any obligation to get one come the year’s closure.”
“Are you aware of the purpose behind the bonds on wolvens?”
Furrowing his brows Erwin blew out an annoyed huff. “Of course. Aside from creating a sense of control over the wolven, it’s also severely painful for both parties if the bond ever broke. That’s the reason they apply it when the wolven is guaranteed to earn their official rehabilitation certification and no longer under threat of failing or being put down.”
“Indeed. So, if you’re so confident that Levi is a fit for the unit, I expect you to share the risk with me. A bond shouldn’t be an issue if what you say is true. Because, ultimately, if you can’t keep Levi in line, and he does one thing wrong, you’re responsible for the consequences that befall everyone. You will have to grit and bear your way through the pain that comes with the other half of the bond possibly being gleaned.”
He leaned forward onto the desk with his elbows, boring an unwavering glare into Erwin’s own.
“Do you wish to retract the suggestion?”
Erwin didn’t have to look hard to see the condition for what it was. “I wish to discuss it with Levi, but if that’s the conditions, then I'd suggest we start the process until I know for certain to avoid delay. I can let you know after I talk with him.”
Shadis predictably frowned at that. “I know your stance on these issues, Smith. And despite our disagreements in the past over certain wolven disputes, I share your concerns. But you can’t be talking like that in public if you want this arrangement to work. Not everyone in GSIS will share our view of stray wolvens from the system being treated like those who are already citizens.”
“That sounds like their problem, not mine.”
“Gods damn it. I know you’re going to make me regret this.”
Erwin didn’t comment further, sensing anything else he said could tilt the scales too much as Shadis internalized his frustrations. Eventually the elder reaper shook his head.
“Fine. I’ll draft up the contract for both of you. One year. Honorable service and no reprimands. I expect him to take a test in three months of GSIS policies and regulations. Get him acquainted with proper weapon safety and only when he’s passed qualification and another background check will he be allowed a firearm.”
“He’s already acquainted with various weapons. If you don’t have a problem with it, I’d like him to be able to carry a non-firearm until he’s met qualifications.”
“What do you mean he’s acquainted with—you know what? Don’t tell me. I want to claim innocence if anyone asks.” Shadis shoved the paper out of the way and pulled his keyboard closer. “Get me an answer about the bond, Smith. By COB. If you agree, then he can get his ID and such assigned. I’ll email a form to Marco. But the bond needs to be in place within the next two weeks, understood?”
“And you’ll update my contract and send it in as well,” Erwin reminded pointedly. “One year extension, that way there’s no more surprise gleaning assignments.”
“You really need to let that go.”
***
If Levi had entered the conference room with no prior knowledge of Mike before now, he still would’ve clocked him as someone close to Erwin. Those uh... so-called subtle side-eyes weren’t so subtle, bud.
Refusing to wait for Erwin with his back to the door meant Levi had to sit on the same side as the behemoth wolven, however, he chose a few chairs down with a healthy distance between anyone else. Luckily it wasn't a difficult task like those usually laced with veiled friendly offers to sit closer. Rather the team was too busy reviewing their case at the head of the table to dawdle with the aloof stranger.
Mike; Erwin’s best friend and lycanthrope. Eren; loud, confident, also wolven. Jean; reasonable to talk to (until engaged with Eren) and a reaper. Overall, not a bad group to be stuck with.
When the bulk of their summarizing completed, there were a few unexpected questions tossed his way from Eren, which were quickly side-tracked after Jean berated him of being obnoxious. Levi didn’t think he was, but he didn’t argue either. Judging from the kid’s enthusiasm, it wouldn’t be an entire shock to say Eren was building up to being the annoying entity Jean tried to subdue.
Best to nip it in the bud now, he supposed.
As for Mike, he didn’t interact much aside from the idle chatter (just enough to keep in the lines of not being weird) and ‘sneaky’ glances. Levi wasn’t necessarily bothered by them, having overheard his private discussion with Erwin through the door last time they met. It was an understandable concern to be wary of Levi’s mixed signals. Truly, he acknowledged that. But that didn’t mean he was going to modulate his habit of avoiding direct eye contact. The wolven would just have to learn to deal with the feigned submissive appearance. It wasn’t like Levi’s unclear body language was being done out of ill-will. If he were to address Mike’s concerns directly, he’d say it encapsulated both hypothesis: unconscious habit and yet intentional. A defense mechanism intermixed with social unease.
As the others returned to wrapping up their brief, Levi began to relax and listened to the white noise of their case discussion when the door opened to another, somewhat familiar face.
Fuck, what was her name?
He tried to recall what Erwin had said about it during the gleaning job but aside from the fight with the vampires, the rest of that evening was still fuzzy.
The woman entered the conference room with an air of someone very confident in the power they held. Her smile was all charm meant to lure people in with her soft curls draping across her shoulders, and Levi recalled her being a reaper. The only evidence of passing years was the single pronounced wrinkle on the side of her petal lips. As she met Mike’s gaze, her smile moved to press the wrinkle deeper.
“I have the summary of the second lot of evidence that was brought in for your recent vic,” she explained, when the conversation amongst the trio halted. She strode in with the dull clack of heels and handed the papers over to Mike, faltering when her attention drifted toward Levi.
He expected nothing more than a flash of recognition behind her gaze or perhaps a curt greeting for the sake of obligated politeness. However, the smile morphing to something forced that looked like it was cut from a magazine and pasted on was not anticipated.
“You, uh, are here with Erwin?”
He didn’t see why it mattered as no one else had questioned his presence until now. But Levi answered the simple inquiry. He could try to be amiable to Erwin’s friends.
“He’s talking to your boss,” Levi supplied, uncertain how to navigate the conversation when the smile morphed. It was like a child had come up to show her a snail while she attempted to hide her disgust to avoid causing a scene. Well, Levi would argue it was significantly less subtle than Mike’s guarded side-eyes.
“Oh, yeah,” Eren interjected. “Levi’s hanging out with us until their meeting is over. Do you know what he told us? He said that last night was the first time he’d ever seen Jurassic Park. I promised him I’d draft a list of movies he should watch if he hasn’t already.”
Jean shook his head, shooting Levi an apologetic glance that he barely caught during his strange stare-off with the woman reaper. Seriously. Why was she looking at him like that?
“Sorry, Levi. Eren’s always excited to meet new people. I’m working on calming him down, but the mutt is too stubborn. Just be glad he doesn’t pee himself when—Ow, prick!” Jean rubbed the back of his head, sending Eren a vile glare. “Keep your paws to yourself.”
“Shut-up, or I’ll invite Marco to watch our next spar just so he can witness you getting your ass kicked again.”
Mike stood from the chair and held out a hand for the woman, interrupting the two bickering agents. “Thanks, Marie. We’ll look it over and let you know if we have any questions.”
Marie finally broke the stare with Levi, the smile altering again to something subdued and pleasant. “Sure. Um... I do have a request. Nile needs help moving one of the machines to the other side of the room as we’ve finally got that new system in. Is anyone free to help out?”
Mike snorted just as Eren and Jean volunteered. “There you go.”
Without further fanfare, Marie led the way out of the conference room, taking the two younger agents with her. The space fell into a thick silence with them gone, but Mike didn’t seem to mind as he sat down and looked at the papers in hand.
“So,” the wolven asked, “how’re you getting on living with Erwin?”
Levi shrugged, finding the inquiry harmless and simple enough to keep vague responses. “He’s clean. Doesn’t seem to have bad movie tastes.”
“That’s thanks to me, you know. He used to stick with old black and white films until I made him watch some current hits. Sometimes he gets stuck in the past with tunnel vision.”
An employee passed the shut conference door, silhouette departing across the privacy window that drew their attention. Levi couldn’t help but bring up the question which continued to pulse on his tongue.
“What’s her deal?”
He didn’t have to elaborate on who he was referring to as Mike snorted. “Oh, you picked up on that?”
“Hard not to when she flips a switch after seeing me,” Levi replied flatly.
“Yeah. I suspect she’s still processing Erwin having someone living with him.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Mike fixed him with a mischievous grin, reminding Levi of some cheeky cockroach in a pub. “Marie and Erwin were engaged once.”
Levi’s eyes widened, although he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. While marriage wasn’t an immediate goal in life for Supras as it was for humans, he continued to forget that courting and monogamy were still common. His own experience was limited to one-night stands as he traveled solo through Europe, never staying in a place for too long and risk being found. When he met Furlan, his number in partners was put to shame compared to his human companion. The young man had mastered the dashing smiles and operated the social toolchest to make any interaction easy, which usually led to pissed off spouses looking for his head.
Mike chuckled at Levi’s shock, pulling him from his thoughts.
“When Erwin was an active agent, they were courting each other, and Nile was a mutual friend of theirs. The three of them were a team before I joined up. I knew and served with Erwin during the war, but we went our separate ways for a while after that. Years later, I was assigned to his team which was when things started to get dire with public unrest after a few high-profile cases and scandals came to light. It also didn’t help that Shadis was bending over to any bureaucrat trying to hush certain things to keep the peace. That stress began to carry over into Erwin’s personal life and—like I said—if hyperfixation was a disease, Erwin would be diagnosed with it.”
“Kind of hard to believe he’d become distracted by the job. Figured he'd be some multitasking guru or some shit.”
“Oh, make no mistake, Erwin’s a great guy who has a talent for strategizing when it counts, but his brain is too smart for him sometimes. Won’t always shut off or slow down. Long story short, he lost sight of Marie while trying to navigate a way forward with GSIS. Mostly trying to smooth out relations with other officials and arrest those responsible for crimes that were getting a pass because of who they were. Working well above his pay grade, as it were. Meanwhile, in the background, Nile stepped in to be a supporting role in Marie’s life when she was pushed to the side. The rest is history.”
“Nile? Is that the brown-haired guy that’s usually with her? Tall and lanky?”
“Yup.”
“So,” Levi furrowed his brows, not hiding his confusion, “she left Erwin for a guy that grows facial hair like a pubescent human and kind of looks like a rodent?”
Mike barked out a laugh that Levi was sure drew people’s attention from outside the room. “Indeed. That about summarizes it!”
Levi didn’t see the appeal, but then again, he knew very little about love. What he did understand was it tended to be unpredictable, and it wasn’t solely based on attraction. But that Nile guy didn’t strike Levi as the friendliest either. Pry open the man’s chest cavity, and he was sure he wouldn’t find gold.
“I still don’t appreciate the weird looks,” he said after a moment.
“If I had to guess, I’d say she’s a bit jealous. Erwin isn’t quite the same as he was back then and I’ve always held the assumption that she might be regretful over leaving him sometimes. She seems happy with Nile—don’t get me wrong--and they have a beautiful family, but there’s still feelings involved. That much is clear. It was a messy breakup, despite what Erwin will say.”
Levi hummed, wondering if Erwin may feel the same way about her. He didn’t really care for that thought. To think that Erwin would hold onto past feelings for a woman who moved to a different person when things got rough seemed immature. But then again, he didn’t know the entire story, and who was he to pass judgement? It wasn’t any of his business.
If anything, he blamed it on his own discomfort peeking through because if Marie left Erwin when things got bad at work, what did that say about Levi? He felt he was all of 5’ 3” of troublesome baggage; nothing but nightmares, omens, and festering rot inside. How many more people would he meet in his lifetime that would leave him after realizing the problems he carried? Like the incident. Would it only take a repeat before Erwin did the same and gave up?
Something told him that the answer was no, despite the twist in his chest. Logically, he believed Erwin would continue to ensure that their partnership—if that’s what it was—would work out. Or perhaps, Levi was simply caught inside the reaper’s tunnel vision for now, which would only change when something more interesting came up.
He really didn’t know the man well enough to speculate more than that.
Before he could delve further into his ponderings, the door opened again to a cheery brunette dropping more papers off to Mike. She was introduced to Levi as Sasha who he mentally classified as wolven, loud (not near the decibels as Hange), and had a bubbly personality. Her sincere glee to meet Levi had caught him off guard, but given she was close to the team, he figured it wasn’t unexpected that she’d be aware of him.
For a short time, as Mike skimmed the papers, she chatted with Levi with similar enthusiasm as Eren. Mostly, about a local restaurant she had come across that served shawarma, which she gushed over the spices and how badly he needed to try it. He never traveled to the Middle East before aside from crossing into Turkey for a month when he was desperate to lose some hunters. But her eagerness was a fantastic selling point for the restaurant’s business. It was a shame they didn’t pay the wolven a portion in advertisement based on her glowing review.
Levi found he really didn’t mind listening to Sasha. There was little input on his end, but she carried the discussion easily. He could tell she was clever during the few times Mike interrupted to ask about data he was unclear of. It was the sort of intelligence that was underestimated beneath her silly demeanor. Street smart, more than books probably, but just as important in his opinion.
Like the agents before, when Mike had no further questions, she took her leave with a friendly wave, almost bumping into Erwin who was opening the door. After some dancing around each other to pass the threshold, the reaper shut the door behind him before turning around. Despite the automatic smirk in place, something about Erwin’s demeanor seemed forced, even as Levi felt the man’s power fluctuate beneath the façade.
Mike was talking to Erwin, lips moving but no words reaching Levi. He was too distracted by the way the walls of the conference room let out a subtle groan in his ears as they bowed to accommodate the frustrated reaper’s presence. It wasn’t enough to warp the shadows in the room as it had in the past, but Levi found it strange how Mike didn’t seem to notice the impact of Erwin’s arrival. Perhaps, he was simply used to it by now. Or Levi was hallucinating again.
As he tried to tune back to the discussion, the door opened again as Nanaba walked through, forcing Erwin to sidestep out of the way where he lingered. She offered Levi a wave as she took a seat beside Mike, not interrupting until there was a lull in the topic.
“So, did it work?” she asked, looking to Erwin and then Levi.
Erwin opened his mouth to respond, shooting Levi a glance, then chose to sit down across from him as if an afterthought. It wasn’t clear if the reaper was doing so to not tower over the others like he was giving a presentation or if he needed to be sitting to deliver the news.
“Well,” he dragged the word out, “Shadis tried to argue the age of the policy and how its purpose was for different intentions, but after some convincing, he gave in.”
There was a pause, distinct enough for everyone in the room to recognize that there was more left unsaid.
“What else?” Nanaba prodded.
Erwin directed his gaze to Levi as he said the next part, “His condition is that I stay on for the full year and that we need to have a bond in place within the next two weeks.”
Levi felt his brows dip and heart punch a new beat, but it was Nanaba and Mike who protested in his stead.
“What?”
“Why?”
“If Levi goes through the policy, he’d actually earn his citizenship—there’s no need for a bond.”
“You told him that, right? Told him only wolvens that go through the WMC trainings are required to have a bond at the end of their schooling?”
Erwin tore his eyes from Levi to level his friends with a pointed look. “Yes, I brought up an arsenal of facts, but he was unyielding on his position. Claimed that by allowing Levi to serve his year under GSIS, when he has a history of being in a fighting ring and is tied to the case, meant he wanted a failsafe. The bond is there to ensure Shadis has a career by the end of it. He’ll also run another background check, but we already know he won’t find anything, which may cause him to get cold feet and try to back out.”
“He can’t back out if he’s forcing you into a bond with Levi,” Mike grumbled. “That’d stir a whole mess of unwanted attention towards his position. Especially, if organizations like PETA-W got wind.”
“Which is why,” Erwin agreed, “I need Levi to make the decision on whether he wants to continue this route.”
Their eyes locked on one another, even as Nanaba spoke down the table.
“That’s absurd. Not only does that contradict the citizenship rights, but it’s also inhumane to mandate that so early into your relationship.”
The comment pulled Levi’s stare to the woman who held up a placating hand, sensing her slip.
“I meant it as a partnership, sorry. But regardless, Shadis won’t back down from it?”
“No,” Erwin answered. “Those conditions are concrete.”
“Well, fuck me.”
All eyes landed on Levi, though he did well to not show any outward discomfort from the attention. He really wished he had something in his hands to fidget with but took a slow breath instead. “What does a bond entail, exactly?”
Erwin did not seem enthusiastic about enlightening him. “You remember I mentioned it before when we had that phone call with Mike and Hange,” he hesitated to find the words, “It was in passing that WMC mandates a bond when a wolven is about to complete the required training. Usually, they’re applied for the purpose of public safety, in case the wolven... acts out, for lack of a better term.”
“Uh-huh,” Levi trailed, crossing his arms and slouching in the seat to give Erwin room to continue. The lazy display probably did fuck all in a way of looking convincing to everyone in the room.
“It connects the ‘owner or handler’ to the wolven and acts as a sort of... leash.”
“What’s he’s trying to say,” Mike interjected, obviously recognizing Erwin’s kid glove approach was taking forever to get to the point, “is that the bond isn’t a physical thing. Not in an entity sense. Similar to vampires and their mating bites, it would be a symbol on yourself that links you both together. Each would get it. For reapers, it’s rare that a bond is ever forged between individuals. Very rare.”
“Why?” Levi asked.
“Because they seldom partake in adopting wolvens. It’s frowned upon, to put it mildly, and treads too close into abusing their power over another living being. The type of bond that’s needed for a reaper to connect to an individual requires not a physical representation but a spiritual one.”
The deadening quiet that followed had Levi’s hidden hackles rising as his expression pinched. “What? What am I not getting?”
“If you agree to it,” Erwin carefully explained, “that means we’d be connected on a deeper, more concrete level. It’s usually through a process similar to getting a tattoo, except it’s using my spiritual energy within the ink which is absorbed through your skin and connects to, well, your soul.”
Levi could feel his leg start to bounce, lungs steadily working overtime to suck oxygen deeper into the spongy bags. His eyes darted to the door, more than once. It took some mental pep talk to keep him from standing up and pacing, mostly due to him fearing the movement would urge him to take off. Run out of the room and building and into the nearest body of water and just keep going.
“And I’m assuming this is the part where you tell me it’s permanent too,” he asked, words sharpening at the end of the sentence.
“That’d be correct.”
Fuck.
Levi tried to breathe through the rising panic and look at it from a step back. His options were limited. That was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, true. No matter which way he looked at it, the end result was the same, but at least going through WMC would hold off on the bond till the end of the year. At least it wouldn’t be so soon that they’d be tethered inexplicably together. But could he manage to keep his shit together throughout the trainings? Maybe that electro convulsion or whatever desensitization would be the best option.
If it worked... They hadn’t tried it... But if it doesn’t...
What if, despite Erwin reassuring they were only ‘faking it’ to get certified, Levi genuinely was affected by the training? What if it helped him, or—worse case—conditioned him too much and he lost who he was? How much tampering could his brain take from outside forces before it turned into a mound of pliable clay for the next person to impress upon?
Or, Plan C, he could take off. Could tell Erwin he needed a day to think it over and use the cover of night to escape. He was comfortable enough navigating to the city on foot after the few trips with Erwin. It wouldn’t be that difficult to make it here, slip through narrow buildings and carefully search out Tybur. After 30 years, his resourcefulness would be a tad rusty, but it’d come back to him. He’d have to make sure to avoid detection is all. Find someone willing to risk their own safety to point him in the direction of the coven. So long as he wasn’t captured by officials, he’d have a shot.
That was a good plan. He could make that work.
Just as he was about to propose the half-cocked request, Erwin started speaking.
“I promise, Levi, I will never use the bond in anyway that would harm or take away your autonomy. Only in the off chance that it’s for your safety or those around.”
Something sharp rasped against his core, igniting his agitation at the semi-responsible vow. His previous plan had fallen away as he drilled in on the last part of Erwin's statement. “And does that promise extend to everyone’s safety?”
The question was pointed, though he knew Nanaba and Mike wouldn’t be the wiser on the meaning.
With unwavering resolve Erwin answered in equally vague terms, “I don’t think innocents should be harmed for poor proximity, don’t you agree? They didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
“Exceptions to the rules?”
“Understanding accidents happen. But I will do my best to prevent bystanders from injury.”
Was Erwin... was he agreeing to let Levi go after Tybur? There was not a shred of doubt in Levi’s mind that, by Erwin promising such a goal, was either as good as the man’s permission or a blatant lie. Given Erwin’s nasty habit of playing people like pawns, it was a toss-up to know which was true.
But if Erwin was being honest, that would offer the best chances for Levi. He’d have an ally who could not only help, but also have his back. Working with GSIS would give him access to information to find Tybur faster, more resources at his disposal. And the sooner he got to the coven leader, the sooner he could destroy the bastard’s rotting soul.
Exhaling slowly, Levi considered everything and knew, deep down, that while he abhorred the idea of being intrinsically connected to another being, there were also a benefit to it. The perks of Erwin having the ability to stop him from hurting another person. Specifically, if he started his little sleepwalking stunt again. A leash. But a valid one when Levi’s control slipped. And devils knew Levi abhorred the idea of taking any more innocent lives if he didn't have to.
The reminder of that night left a bad feeling on his tongue, and just like that, his plans to run off were fatally squashed. If he couldn't get keep his shit together near a vampire, then staying undetected or out of the law's hands was a foolish dream. Teaming with Erwin was the best shot at reaching his objective.
The crushing realization was enough to get his head nodding as he reluctantly agreed.
“Don’t have much of a choice. You better not make me regret this, Blondie.”
The relief was subtle from the reaper, and it helped Levi to know that the man was very much apprehensive of the bond rather than looking like he won a prize.
“Congratulations,” he tried to sound casual while pulling his phone out to type a message. “You're officially on probation at GSIS. We can start today getting your temp badge and such.”
Nanaba smiled to show her support, but there was a reluctance that weighed the corners down, clearly pissed from the mandate. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Levi. And if Erwin ever gets on your nerves too bad, you can report it to me. I’m technically his boss.” She punctuated it with a wink.
Erwin scoffed beside Levi but didn’t look up from his phone. “You’re a temporary supervisor, Nana. SRC is the closest thing to my boss.”
“Not for the next year,” she chimed, “That title belongs to me alone.”
“Wonderful,” Mike rolled his eyes so hard his head tilted to the back of the chair, so he was staring at the ceiling. “Now I gotta share my wife’s attention with your posh ass.”
“If anyone is going to complain, it should be me. I have to look at your ugly mug regularly.”
“Psh. You should count yourself lucky, mate.” He ran his thumb and index finger from the center to the sides of his groomed mustache. “People say I’m the real Dread Pirate Roberts.”
Nanaba lifted a skeptical brow, “No one calls you that.”
“How would you know? You don’t have super hearing.” Turning to Erwin, Mike changed the subject before Nanaba could retort, “I still can’t believe you managed to convince Shadis in one meeting. I thought it would’ve taken two or three before he gave in.”
Nanaba shook her head. “Erwin can charm anyone with that silver tongue of his. Could freaken sweet talk the tits off a cadaver.”
Mike wrinkled his nose. “Gross, babe.”
Levi couldn’t keep himself from scoffing, sensing a trend with the reaper he just agreed to tie his life to. The things I do for revenge. He didn’t know if he should be proud of his resolve or find pity in his desperation. “Must be nice to maneuver people so easily.”
Despite the dry delivery, Erwin looked up from his phone with a smirk, sensing the grim’s teasing.
“Maybe you’d have success too if your tongue wasn’t forked.”
Levi flipped him off, earning the reaper’s chuckle.
“So,” he asked as Erwin set the phone down, “does this mean we don’t have to go to the caseworker today?”
“That’s right. I just sent an email to Shadis informing him to finalize the papers for DWR and WMC. He should be submitting them to Clint before the scheduled appointment.” Erwin pushed from the chair and Levi mirrored the movement, sensing they were about to leave. “We need to go to the basement and get some of your items, then we have a few extra errands to run before we head back to the house.”
Levi wasn’t sure what Erwin was planning, but so long as he didn’t have to go to any wolven training facilities, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
The ID in his hands stared back with his name, photo, and ouroboros logo. The picture wasn’t ideal, given he was still wearing a sweater rather than the nicer apparel of other employees, but thankfully it was small and didn’t draw the eye. Just the pop of olive green around his shoulders from the hood.
It was strange to have a temporary form of identification. He’d never had one before. Or any physical proof of him existing. It wasn’t necessarily a good feeling, but it wasn’t bad, either. Just was there for consideration.
“What’s the light blue line mean,” he asked as he gestured to the band below his labeled race as ‘Wolven: Loup-garou’. The badge Erwin had contained a rich green line instead as the only distinct difference.
“It means you’re on a probational status. Similar to new hires that come in. Green are the veterans of GSIS.”
They were walking to the armory next, thankfully where no one else seemed to be shuffling around. The basement was much quieter than the upper levels, meaning Levi was free to walk without Erwin’s constant contact with him when passing strangers. He wondered briefly if the bond would work the same.
“Veteran, huh?” he asked thoughtfully. “Just how long have you been working here?”
Erwin pondered on it for a moment, “Close to 70 years or so.”
“What exactly made you choose the path as a consultant instead of staying as an agent?”
“Aside from freelance work paying well and giving me the option to work jobs I want?” Erwin led with amusement in his tone.
Levi shrugged, slipping the temp badge into his hoody pocket with his hands. “Sure. 70 years is a long time. Seems like you were dedicated to the position.”
Reflectively, Erwin hummed. “GSIS was formed and running before I decided to join. At the time, I was doing my own thing after the war, mostly gleaning assignments and traveling. Upon meeting with a close friend, she convinced me to join the agency, and we worked on the same team for a while. Then Nanaba joined along with Mike shortly after. They’d met previously on one of our assignments in the war, but it’d been a couple decades since they crossed paths again.”
“And that was your team until you left?”
“More or less. After a few more decades, I was struggling to sit idly by while leadership continued to look the other way on high profile people making poor decisions. There was more to it, though.”
“Outside factors?”
“Indeed. After Supras had signed the treaty and established themselves, the new additions to governing agencies were stepping on a lot of wrong toes. The U.S. wasn’t the only country in danger of civil war breaking out. It was a worldwide issue in almost all nations. So, between important people doing what they wanted regardless of laws, GSIS leadership was trying not to stir the pot further. It was a rocky 50 years on top of human conflict with new wars that put further strain on the country.”
That was putting it mildly. Levi thought it all sounded like a circus shitshow. Made him a little more eager to return to a nomadic lifestyle if he ever got the chance again.
“Eventually, I was fed up with it. I was working a job with my hands tied, expected to protect the public, maintain balance, while also staying out of the way.” They paused at a steel door with a keypad and Erwin swiped his badge to open it for Levi. “I could’ve applied for a higher position in GSIS where what I had to say held more weight with SRC boards, but I didn’t want to commit to something so permanent and rigid that early in my career. Decided if I wasn’t going to dedicate to my principles enough to tie myself down to a desk, then I needed to make my own changes, so I left. Chose freelance consultations instead.”
“You ever find yourself regretting it? Seems the public unrest and wars aren’t as prevalent now.”
“No, I don’t. Gleanings and consultations allow me to travel and continue case work. I’m contributing to the balance and living for myself.”
Levi had to tamp down on the urge to ask if he regretted not making it work with Marie, but that seemed too insensitive. Plus, Levi wasn’t exactly crafted in interpersonal relationships enough to mold his question into something less offensive. He supposed he’d have to just simmer in his misplaced curiosity about Erwin’s side of the story with the female reaper. Not that he was genuinely concerned or anything. Because he wasn’t.
“Hello, Marco.”
Erwin’s voice tugged Levi from his musings as they approached an iron cage structure tucked in the back. There wasn’t much for visuals of what lay on the racks and shelves the way the aisles were arranged, but it did provide a clear view of anyone if they were perusing the items. Based on the steel bars, crosshatched wire, subtle buzz in the air, and winking red eyes of the cameras, it was a security storage room, extra emphasis on security.
“Good morning, sir.” The man, Marco, stood at the counter with a metal plate drawn open as a window. He looked young, like that of Eren and Jean. From the lack of distinguishable scent, Levi guessed the freckled brunet, with his round chestnut eyes and tanned skin, was a reaper, although he seemed to have lost any true intimidation with his presence. Even Marie and Jean had a bite to their beings that drew one’s attention. This guy reminded Levi of a marshmallow. “What can I do for you? Did you come all this way for a world-class sharpening?”
There was a miniscule flinch from Erwin, as if the request was an insult. “No. I make sure to maintain my own scythe.”
Marco tilted his head back with a boyish laugh, only then striking Levi that it was the kid’s version of a ribbing Erwin. Must be a reaper thing, because Levi didn’t get it.
“Well, I know you don’t need ammunition, so what can I help with?”
“Marco, this is Levi. Levi, Marco. He’s in charge of GSIS weapons storage, amongst many other logistical supplies. You won’t find anyone else who keeps current with the latest weapons on the market.”
Marco appeared to be in his mid-twenties in human years, but the way his face reddened from the praise, it made him look younger.
Marshmallow.
“I appreciate the kind words, but I’m just doing my job, sir.”
Erwin’s smirk revealed he was well aware of the flattery, but it didn’t seem vindictive. More honest than some of his other interactions. “Levi here is working with the team for the next year and is in a probationary status. The DD should’ve sent an email authorizing weapons assignment.”
“Oh, I did get something from Director Shadis about that. Let me just review it so I know parameters.” Marco sat on the stool provided and began clacking on the computer. Once he read through the email he nodded and stood up to address Levi directly as he walked to the door off to the side.
“Nice to meet you, sir. It looks like you’re authorized two weapons of choice, but will need to meet qualifications with the firearm before I can issue it to you. The Director said you’re allowed to take a non-firearm though.”
“Just call me Levi,” he replied as the door was unlocked and swung inward on creaky hinges. He really was not up for being called ‘sir’.
Erwin gestured for him to go through first, which he did, promptly drinking in the industrial shelves and racks bolted to the concrete pad. The backing of the aisles had a modified peg board with labels and serial numbers beneath each item that was locked in place behind a glass barrier. Everything from handguns to daggers, rifles to bows. It looked like a museum of weapon collections from every century and part of the world.
Just what sort of fuckery war was GSIS preparing to enter?
Marco and Erwin were talking about potential needs Levi would require given the case they were currently assigned as well as others if the first was solved prior to the end of contract. But Levi wasn’t truly paying attention, eyes scanning each row and column, never finding two of the same items except for the firearms. Those were limited to three different styles and brands, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He could shoot and qualify with any modern rifle or handgun, so long as it wasn’t a smaller caliber, compact piece made to hide in a lady’s purse. Those he’d avoid at all costs. Izzy had one for a short time and the recoil felt like it’d snap his wrist off. The damn piece of shit worked better if he threw it like a brick at someone’s head rather than trying to shoot anything with its fastidious accuracy.
“See anything that looks like you’d use?”
Levi stared at the wall in front of him, a dangling white light over each section of shelving illuminating the various steel creations. Like some kind of shrine of death. “Why would anyone need archaic weapons like this?”
“Only the active agents use them,” Erwin explained, which frankly didn’t explain anything.
“They’re a little outdated. I don’t recall seeing Mike lugging around a spear.”
Erwin chuckled. “Everyone usually keeps their handgun on them during regular duty hours. It’s only for raids or busts that they utilize melee weapons, such as when close quarters with potentially violent offenders is expected.”
“Uh-huh... Those are words, correct. Just not the right ones,” he starkly replied. How hard was it to answer his question?
With a mocking glare, Erwin muttered under his breath, “Petulant much?” before finally explaining.
“Ammunition does little against hemovore perps, so bladed weapons are the better option if force is required. You’ll notice,” he pointed to the closest knife that looked like a standard Ka-bar, “that the polish on the edge of the blade is actually silver forged within the steel. It’s for that purpose against Supras that makes them so effective.”
“Silver bullets have been a thing for a while though,” Levi countered. “Why the de-evolution to melee weapons instead of modifying modern cartridges for firearms?”
“While silver isn’t a rare metal, it’s still a precious one. At first glance, it seems like the obvious answer, particularly as a silver bullet wouldn’t neglect any species of suspect and even slow a reaper down. However, the amount that would be required to sustain GSIS would be too great. Especially when silver is also used for jewelry, electronics, solar energy, medical devices, and so on. There’s not enough that’s easily accessible in the world to not end up affecting markets or mining operations. It’s easier to use a small, recycled amount in blades that can be preserved and maintained. Plus, many have handled such weapons before and are comfortable with them in close quarters.”
Levi didn’t say anything for a few seconds, absorbing the information and not knowing whether to be grateful for the economic lesson or cry because there was no middle ground with Erwin sometimes. It was either scraps or over-detailed knowledge being vomited at him. Once more, his mind drifted to the bond and how that was basically a guarantee he was stuck with these lengthy lectures.
He turned to look over the weaponry in thought. “And your boss is really allowing me to be issued one?”
“For now, yes.”
“No one else is concerned that maybe it’s not a good idea to give the mysterious ex-pit fighter a blade when he has no background?”
“I don’t see why not. You’re already plenty capable of taking down opponents without a tool. You've even demonstrated unassuming household items could be used in defense.” True. “Besides, I’d feel better if you had a back-up in case you’re unable to shift to protect yourself again.”
Oh.
Levi’s prior hesitancy seemed to pop out of existence, realizing that logically, that made a lot of sense. Personally, he deeply appreciated the thoughtfulness of Erwin’s foresight. If—when—Tybur made another play to interfere with the case or Levi, there was a strong prospect that the culprits would have another dosage of the blocker in hand. The last thing Levi wanted was to be stuck in his bi-pedal form while fighting stronger, faster vampires.
No longer feeling that he was being put to a test, Levi perused the aisles with renewed encouragement, asking Marco to handle a blade here and there. After his sixth or tenth weapon rejection, he finally found a promising piece. It was less than two feet in length total, with the single-edged blade reaching 16 inches. A late 1880’s Slavic short sword reminiscent of a Shashka with clean lines, narrow and lightweight, and above all—compact. With a lengthy coat, the entire piece would hide well at his side.
“It’s a beautiful blade,” Erwin remarked as they returned to the front of the security cage for Marco to fill out the issuance documents.
Levi nodded his head absently as he dragged a hand along the smooth sable sheath. There was a gloss finish to it, which enhanced the many scratches and flaws on the varnish, but Levi found he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Even the less shiny brass ferrule and pommel had aged, nearly appearing a brushed gold that many others would find fault in. The ribbed wooden grip could do with some refinishing if he wanted to restore the shine and enhance the grain, but all cosmetic improvements. The edge itself was wicked sharp, promising easy entry into an opponent.
“It’s been a while since I’ve wielded a blade larger than a knife.”
“Has it? I suppose that means we must set time aside for a spar then.”
That swung Levi’s gaze up to meet Erwin’s. “With your scythe?” The reaper nodded. “Are you trying to glean my soul already?”
Erwin had the gall to look annoyed. “I told you, it’ll only touch your soul if I put energy into it. It’s a regular weapon otherwise.”
“Tch, so you say.”
“Ye of little faith.”
“No, I’m just not a blind idiot.”
“Come on, Levi. I know you must be a little curious about how we’d stack up against one another. I don’t count the mishap in the parking lot as a measurable encounter.”
“Why? Because I was drugged? If it wasn’t for the muzzle—”
“Trust me, I still have the proof of the muzzle. But no. Not because of the sedation. Mostly because it wasn’t a fair setting to really test ourselves against one another. So, what are you thinking? A week? Maybe two before you’re comfortable with your sabre for a spar?”
“No.” Levi shot him down faster than a pigeon in a lightning storm.
Marco was trying to suppress his amusement as he continued filling out forms, which did little for the hits that Levi’s pride was currently taking from Erwin’s belligerent taunting.
“You’re being obtuse, Levi. See reason.”
“That won’t work, Blondie. Joke all you want, but I like my soul in my body.”
“I’m sorry.” The reaper changed tactics as if pivoting on the face of a dime. “Is that your tail tucked between your legs?”
Levi’s brow twitched, but otherwise his features remained placid.
“Well, if you’re really sure you’re not up for a spar, then I guess I’ll be left to daydream of your skills. Woe is me. That only gives me the option to confide in Hange for her speculation of what you’re capable of...”
The man continued with the one-sided discussion despite Levi trying to block him out. But he just wouldn’t shut up.
“I wonder what Mike’s estimation would be. If I had to guess, he’d play it safe and put his bet on me because you’re untested. Have you even fought a reaper before? Probably not.”
Levi’s glare narrowed further as he clenched his jaw, willing to keep his mouth shut so he didn’t give into Erwin’s challenge. But as Marco sent him a raised brow, waiting for Levi to reply with a sly grin creeping on the marshmallow’s face, his will shattered.
“Fine. You want to eat shit so bad; I’ll dish it out, Smith.”
Marco snorted a laugh, and despite the crude response, Erwin looked absolutely tickled.
Great. Levi rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long year.
***
Levi recalled that Erwin had mentioned they were running errands afterwards. At the time, the larger issue of the bond was taking up the space within his skull that didn’t allow much room for anything else. But after driving away from GSIS in Erwin’s old pick-up truck, going further into the urban infrastructure, he regretted being so easily distracted.
“I promised that we’d get you your own clothes. Something better suited for work and such.”
Ah, shopping.
While Levi could admit that having an attire that was closer to professionalism than comfort would be ideal, he wasn’t much for actual shopping. The singular time he owned any type of storage for clothes was in the cottage in Ireland. After that, it was whatever served a function that could fit on his person or in the backpack. And there was no way in hell he’d count anything he was lucky to wear during Tybur’s captivity.
As such, Levi anticipated a hasty trip into a quiet, low-profile boutique where they could dart out quickly if a vampire was present. Some place to purchase a few passable outfits and maybe a nicer pair of shoes than the runners Erwin had ordered for him online. Simple. Quick. Efficient.
That was a big fucking negative.
Erwin had at some point—Levi really lost track of where that point was--made it his mission to supply the hellhound with an entire wardrobe as if he needed an outfit for every decade he’d been alive. Not the fashion (thank the devils), but the quantity as if making up for all Levi had missed out on.
“Get whatever you want.”
“Don’t worry about the price. I want you to pick items that makes you comfortable.”
So, why the fuck did Levi turn away from perusing a rack to find a mountain of fabrics building on Erwin’s arm as if rising out of the sea? And three-quarters of the bulk wasn’t even what Levi picked out. There were three simple shirts and a pair of jeans. Beyond that, the infestation of cotton and polyester was beyond him.
“The fuck is this? I know those aren’t all mine.”
“What do you mean? You need clothes, Levi. These are essentials.”
“A track suit is not essential.”
The reaper shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d say they’re comfortable and versatile. Could lounge in it or work out. Why are you limiting yourself?”
“Because it ain’t—isn’t necessary.” The reaper dared to look at Levi as if he was being the rash one here. “Go put those back.”
“You’re being bossy, Levi. Relax. If it’s the money you’re worried about then don’t—”
“It’s not—it’s...” Levi took a breath. “Look. I don’t need charity, alright? Even though you said not to worry about it, I intend to pay you back once I can. The point is, I don’t need all this crap. Just a few outfits will go a long way.”
Erwin’s left brow floated toward his hairline. “From the short time of watching you shop, it’s clear you’d limit yourself to the bare minimum. There's being thrifty and then there's being neglectful."
"I don't know what thrifty means," Levi deadpanned.
"It's similar to being frugal. Resourceful. Regardless, I can’t allow you neglecting your needs and wants.”
Levi crossed his arms over his chest, sensing one of the employee’s curious eyes drifting toward them. Why did he get the sense he was reprimanding his significant other?
“Just put it back.”
“Not unless you pick out more items.”
“I don’t need that much.”
“It’s not about need. It’s what will make you comfortable. You’re not living the same lifestyle as before.” That was putting it mildly. “So, why restrict yourself on things you might actually enjoy?”
“Yeah? And if I don’t, what are you going to do, Smith? Dress me up?”
Finally, he found a chink in the man’s stubbornness to needle his point in. The man seemed to retreat on his stance, eagerness dimming around the edges.
“Of course not. You’re not obligated to wear any of this, but I’d like for you to have options.” He pulled out a sweater from a nearby rack with his free hand that wasn’t holding the tumor of clothes, which had to be the weight of a small car. “Look. I know you like jumpers. What about this one? You’re free to still wear mine, if you’d prefer, but at least feel it.”
Eyeing the material hanging between them as if it’d turn into a snake any second and strike, Levi relented. The outside was a steel blue crewneck design, but damn if the inside wasn’t a soft enticing fleece.
He retracted his hand to the crook of his elbow and reluctantly grunted, “it’s nice,” as if he was obligated to acknowledge it, and not that he genuinely approved.
However, the smug bastard seemed to see right through it and added the blasted thing to the growing pile.
Digging his fingers into his eyes, Levi tried to reel in his annoyance. He didn’t get the chance to argue as the store entrance chimed, forcing the grim to lift his head and observe the new customer just as Erwin turned as well to inspect them. They were too deep into the store for Levi to catch their scent, but Erwin somehow was able to distinguish a rough idea of what they were by sight alone. It was a question he parceled for later discussions with the reaper.
“Human. We’re fine.”
He released a breath, lungs squeezing out all the air. The mood sobered around them as Erwin adjusted the clothes in his arms, plastic hangers clacking against each other.
“Alright, I hear what you’re saying, Levi. But can we find a compromise here? It’d make me feel better and I promise I won’t get carried away.”
Well, shit. When the man started to look like a kicked puppy, it was already making Levi relent on his stance. But just barely. There was no hiding the fact that shopping was making him feel twitchy like a cornered cat, especially as people moved around them, minding their own business.
Reaching to card his fingers down the sleeve of a shirt, Levi considered, probably for the first time in a while, what he wanted moving forward. Not just with surviving and keeping his head on his shoulders and thoughts contained in his skull while daydreaming of removing Tybur’s—but more than that. Silly things that he thought were so far beyond reasonable, therefore he didn’t allow himself to ponder it. Insignificant. A waste. Not meant for him, but rather for normal people to enjoy.
For the foreseeable future, Levi would be stagnant, in a legitimate house with regular access to food, water, and a place to sleep. Where luxuries like books—as in plural—were available, along with television and walks for the sake of them. Where he had a space with a vacant dresser and his own bathroom, and a washer and dryer that didn’t eat precious coins or smell of river water.
For the first time, he had a chance to make decisions for himself. What clothes he wanted to wear that didn’t only serve a function of keeping rain from soaking his bones, or encapsulating as much warmth as possible through snow drifts, or dark clothes to pass discretely through dim streets where miscreants lurked around corners. Hidden blades, and unveiled greed.
He tried to imagine it. Tried to recall different fashions before and after the three decades of absence and pick out which caught his eye and which made him grimace. Erwin was right. He had no reason to restrict himself to simple shirts and slacks and a jacket. No dire need to limit his choices to what would keep him alive longer or what was lighter to pack.
“Put that stuff back,” he demanded, though it lacked the iron inflection as before.
Erwin allowed a frown to tug free, but Levi gave him a curt response before he could try to argue.
“What I picked is fine for everyday clothes. But if you're serious about it, then you can take me somewhere nicer for this stupid GSIS agreement.”
That seemed to reverse gravity as Erwin’s lips canted upwards.
“You sure it’s a no on the track suit?” he teased, peeling the top layer of fabric from the heap and replacing it on the rack.
“Definitely. No fucking track suit. No fucking sandals.” Levi reached out to pluck the sweater Erwin just returned from the bar and curled it over his forearm. “I’m keeping the jumper though.”
The reaper had the ultimate look of satisfaction on his face as he continued disbanding the undesirables from his arms, each rejection doing nothing to dampen his mood.
Levi didn’t allow himself to ponder how a smile of his own almost broke free as a result.
***
“If I hadn’t been living with you and witnessing it myself, I would’ve bet good money on someone coming by the cabin to dress you.”
That was the third or fourth criticism from Levi since leaving the boutique about Erwin’s taste of clothes for the grim. Honestly, you’d think he pulled out a clown costume complete with a pound of face paint, offering it to Levi on a silver platter. He really didn’t think the choices he picked for Levi were that bad. Just... a variety.
Despite it only being the two of them, Erwin had somehow managed to be outvoted on that opinion. How did that work? It should be a draw at most. Agree to disagree. But the more Levi disapproved over the choices, the more Erwin was inclined to say he had picked some off-the-wall items. Why did he grab the t-shirt with a red painted star and smiley face in the center? He couldn't tell you. But apparently, it was a stain on his permanent record, going down as a criminal offense per the grim.
“As I said before," Erwin tried defending, again, "they were only meant as options. I don’t know what style you like. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve only seen you in borrowed clothes since we’ve met.”
Levi was currently tucked inside the changing room completely unbothered by the assistant waiting patiently for him to emerge and take measurements if needed. Meanwhile, Erwin had plunked himself into one of the lounge chairs beside the empty step in front of the mirrors, one arm draped over the back, ankle over knee.
When Levi mentioned 'nicer', Erwin wasn’t entirely sure what classified as nice to the grim. He didn’t think outlet mall would meet that definition, so as he tried to fish for details, Levi gestured at the reaper with that bratty ‘isn’t it obvious’ look. As if Erwin was the one being thick.
Note to self, they needed to work on Levi’s communication.
Once he finally understood Levi’s intentions, he wasn’t put off from the request, but rather puzzled. He attempted to inform Levi that he wasn’t required to wear a suit as Erwin did. Even explained that the team regularly wore business to business-casual attire. Something comfortable to move in but not underdressed. The sassy reply he got in return was that it had nothing to do with matching, merely something he wanted for himself. Mentioned he did enjoy the few button-ups he’d worn in the past and just wanted to take pride in his appearance.
It was a completely reasonable explanation.
So, Erwin took him to one of the stores he regularly shopped at when he had an itch for a new suit. Not the custom tailor that broke it down to fabric swatches and materials—he was certain that would’ve been too overwhelming for Levi being draped in garbs and handled by a stranger. But a step down from that seemed like a reasonable location. As it happened, Levi had easily picked out a few outfits that appealed to him shortly after arriving and was trying them on. The only downside was, he hadn’t stepped out of the changing room to show Erwin. Not once.
“You’re aware that you can come out and view the clothes in front of these mirrors, right? That’s why they’re here.”
“Why?” Levi’s voice drifted from beyond the door. “I can judge how they fit where I'm at.”
The assistant met Erwin’s gaze, offering a polished but tired smile that reflected a bit of Erwin’s own exasperation. He wondered what was going on in the fellow reaper’s head, whether he was grateful for a client that didn’t demand his services for every centimeter of adjustment or bored out of his mind just standing there with the measuring tape coiled over his shoulders.
Levi’s stubbornness was a force to be respected and handled with caution.
Trying to smother a sigh, he listed his reasons, “Because it provides more visuals for you, allows the tailor to make any adjustments that are needed like hemming your pant legs, and also politely includes the individual who's acting as your personal Uber during the shopping experience.”
“... The fuck is an Uber?”
That's all Levi got out of that?
The assistant covered their laugh with a polite cough behind their hand. Erwin couldn’t keep the next sigh from escaping.
“It’s like a taxi service, but usually people use their own vehicles and work hours that they want.”
“So, like a chauffeur then.”
“Yes. A self-employed chauffeur. That’s a better description for it.”
Everything probably sounded a little strange to the assistant, now that Erwin thought about it. Thank the fates that no one else was currently in the store or he’d be worried that they would mistake Erwin as being Levi’s Sugar Daddy. Buying him expensive clothing, driving him from place to place, not to mention their spoken mannerisms weren’t exactly cut from the same cloth—regardless if they hailed from two nations falling under the United Kingdom.
He would never dare speak a word of that revelation to Hange or Mike. He would sooner try to pet Levi in his Grim form and risk mutilation than speak of that. They'd ring those jokes dry only to revive it and drag it out for two more centuries.
“Fine. But I still don’t see the point.”
The door opened as Levi stepped out and abruptly, all prior embarrassment ceased to exist.
As the grim meandered to the circular stage in front of the sofa, Erwin unintentionally straightened in the seat, swallowing as if his throat was suddenly parched. Levi didn’t seem to notice as he fiddled with the button of his right sleeve, not even looking where he stepped as if he’d done that dance a million times before.
Erwin couldn’t hide the open stare. Knew that Levi could look up any second and see him through the reflection as the assistant was tampering at his side, adjusting the back of the collar and straightening the winkles from the fabric. He tried to take a breath and will his heart to stop its insistent thudding as if knocking on the ribs and trying to get Levi’s attention. But that was the last thing his brain and eyes wanted.
No. The longer Levi watched the assistant fuss with him, the less likely he’d realize just how much Erwin was committing the image to memory.
Without the oversized hoody and joggers, Levi’s lean frame was on full display. While the grim was far from a muscular build, he didn’t lack definition. His wrists were tapered and thin, his arms filled out and curved the higher up Erwin's eyes tracked. Narrow but sinew waist that enclosed trim muscle, thighs pronounced in strength, and—oh. As Levi turned his hips to adjust his belt, Erwin caught the modest curve of his backside.
Slim fitted black slacks with matching vest and a satin black tie tucked beneath. He wore a semi-glossed leather belt that hugged around his waist with a thin buckle in a nickel finish, no jacket to complete the look which kept it less formal and more casual. To bring color to the ensemble, Levi picked a deep maroon shirt with the top button opened, displaying the tantalizing column of his neck.
“... hem these for you, but otherwise a perfect fit,” the assistant discussed, bringing Erwin out of his ogling.
He looked up just in time to capture Levi’s gaze.
“You sure you’re alright spending this? I was serious when I said the other clothes will be fine.”
“Of course,” Erwin replied, voice steady. “Get whatever you’d like.”
Really not helping your case of appearing less like a Sugar Daddy, he mused begrudgingly.
Woefully, the sly side-eye from the assistant was plenty loud without saying a thing; a confirmation that they without a doubt were under that very assumption. With a little luck, Levi wouldn’t know what the term was, though being a 'kept' person was not a new phrase either. It’d take little effort for Levi to make the connection if he wanted to, as if being considered a ‘pet’ wasn’t bad enough for the man’s psyche.
Gods help him if Levi ever realized what the assistant was thinking, or just bury his own scythe in his chest if Hange or Mike ever found the similarities to start the jokes.
After the employee got the measurements for the pants, Levi was ready to leave. A part of Erwin wanted to make a comment about displaying the other clothes for the assistant, just to make sure there weren’t different measurements, but thought better of it. Seeing as Levi was sticking to the same brand but different colors, there wouldn’t be much variance in length and the black turtleneck and long jacket required no alterations. It was safer to not linger in the store longer than necessary.
On the positive side, Levi was easy to shop for. Low maintenance and efficient. As he paid for the items and Levi scooped the bag over the new shoe box, Erwin couldn’t help but feel satisfied over accomplishing his goal to get Levi items of his own. But there was a big problem that prevented Erwin from completely relishing in his victory.
The grim would be wearing these clothes from now on. On jobs. Into town. At the house. There wasn’t going to be an option for Erwin to scrape the delectable memory out from behind his eyes and pretend he was unaffected. The image would continue to be reburned into his mind until it scarred over, making it a permanent fixture. And to make it all worse, Levi seemed utterly naïve to how pretty of an image he portrayed wearing clothes in his newfound style. Complete obliviousness.
Erwin needed to drown those wistful thoughts and keep it professional. He refused to ruin the progress between him and Levi because he had a problem stomping out his unasked-for attraction to his partner. Just no.
Professional.
He could do professional.
Notes:
Spoiler alert: Erwin can’t do professional. XD
Well, nothing is 100% perfect, but things are looking a little better at least! A nice little palette cleanser to wrap up Arc 2.
On another note, apparently half of my Arc 3 outline disappeared. Not sure what happened but realized that when I was reviewing my notes. So, I’ll need to go back and re-write what I remembered of the plot points. I’m hoping it won’t slow me down too much on my weekly postings.
And finally, thank you all so much for reading the story! I honestly didn’t expect it to get this much attention but having you stick with it, binge it, or just checking it out really means the world! I really appreciate you!
Until next time, stay safe out there! 🖤🩶
Chapter 21: Godspeed Reaper
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Book 2
--
Chapter 21
Godspeed Reaper
***
The piano caroled a classical motif that dominated the scraping of furniture being returned to its rightful place; only the easel and damp canvas remained where it sat. Bone keys sang a love song to the death of Willy’s two guests in his latest rendition, Pygmalion and Galatea, with a note here and there misplaced but otherwise satisfactory.
He leaned into the settee, staring wistfully in thought as Ivar ushered the last of the assistants out of the room, bowing to the coven leader before closing the doors behind them. The piano continued uninterrupted even as Lara waited impatiently for him to respond to her complaints.
“You think I’ll be so negligent that I’d lead them to me?” Willy finally replied, not answering her original inquiry. “Please, sister. I’m no amateur.”
“Neither are they. I’m not insisting any longer. I’m telling you: let other people handle it. You shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk, nor tempt any direct link to the coven.”
“Even if there was a chance for them to connect it to the coven, what makes you think it’ll go anywhere. A few little nudges to some good friends and they’ll dismiss it as coincidental. What is it that suddenly has you so spooked? You’re acting like a green filly on her first fox hunt.”
“It’s got nothing to do with fright. Apprehensive, perhaps. You’re taking unnecessary risks and playing with forces that may well challenge you in ways you’re not anticipating. The coven cannot afford you to underestimate your opponents, particularly when you’re playing on a national stage.”
“I am both the director and stage manager of said artistic production. I orchestrate behind the curtains, not beneath the lights. Again, you’re worrying yourself for nothing.”
“And your ego is blinding you. I’m not asking you to cease your mission. I’m merely requesting you do not take part in any more public murders. That is the stage play. If they find anything at the scenes from you directly, the coven will suffer the repercussions no matter what favors you call.”
Willy waved her concerns off, annoyed, bored, and tired of the discussion. “Alright. Very well.” Her face pinched at the dismissal, knowing her brother would do what he wished, though Willy couldn’t help but admire her sense to know when to drop it. “How are your seals coming along? Have you improved upon them?”
“I specialize in alchemy, not... human-tainted manipulation of order.”
A giggle from the piano bench pulled the adults’ attention to the two children. His daughter, Phine, twisted in her seat to pass a teasing smile to her aunt while Bruno continued his piano practice without further totters. “I think you mean witchcraft, Auntie. That’s what the humans call it.”
“It’s an abomination, don’t get your wires crossed,” Lara countered before turning to Willy. “Yes, the containment seal is as accurate as I can make it, so long as I keep to the proper azimuth and formula. If you’re so set on the second part appearing intentional, I’ll need more time to perfect it. I’m pretty sure Grice’s humans never intended on the seals to do anything more than act as a scare tactic.”
“Continue to build upon it, then. If nothing else, it will have the agencies chasing their own wild theories and distract them further. However, as it gains more notice with the public, it’d be nice for the humans to start making their own assumptions and further the narrative.”
“One can only hope,” she said flatly, not hiding her disdain.
The piano fell silent as Bruno leaned on the bench to look at Willy from around his sister. “Are you planning on getting our pet back soon, father?”
Willy leaned his temple onto his knuckles, amused at the question. “Possibly. Why? Not having fun with the others downstairs?”
“No,” Bruno’s round cheeks puffed out as annoyance passed over. “They’re no fun. The newest wolven just mopes in the corner and ignores us. And Phine made him cry. Twice. He’s boring.”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad.”
“He’d let us starve him,” Phine piped up, in agreeance with her brother. “At least, yours would do something about it or react to us.”
“Yes, well, what mine did was probably not appropriate for children. I’m not sure why I even allowed you near him so often. He could’ve hurt you if you got too close.”
“He never did. And we always kept our distance from the bars.”
Willy hummed, knowing that to be true. There was always something in Levi which prevented him from hurting children, even Willy’s own. Despite the little beast’s pure hatred of the man, his children were never in any real danger with him as if Levi was chronically holding onto some last moral thread. No matter what Willy did, he never seemed to cut those remaining few sanctuaries within the wolven, no matter how many pits or sessions he threw the runt into. That's what made him so much fun to play with.
He stood up from the settee, straightening his attire, though he knew he would be changing shortly. “I’m going to check on preparations for the dinner party tonight. Phine, if you need help with your dress, ask Lara, will you? I don’t want to have another malfunction like the last one.”
“Yes, I will,” she answered exasperatedly.
Turning to his sister still seated, he finished with, “You know where to find me if anything comes up,” then took his leave toward the kitchens.
He pondered on cleaning up first and getting ready a little early so as not to feel rushed afterwards, but thought better on it. There was a certain thrill that came from interacting with volunteers and staff none the wiser to his proclivities. Only his select employees, coven, and elite circle were familiar with the inspiration of the paintings. By going downstairs with linseed oil clinging to the woven fabric of his attire, the metallic scent hidden just beneath, was exciting when the others were so oblivious, only finding innocence in Willy’s macabre hobby. Hiding in plain sight, and yet no one ever suspected otherwise of the crimes he committed a mere 30 minutes prior.
Entering the massive kitchen, the staff halted what they were doing to offer him their attention. Many were caterers that he hired who were lenient to his preferences of dishes, which inadvertently limited their roles in the grand scheme of things. Only a handful of companies were willing to alter dishes to accommodate his specific menu requests, so he usually cycled between the same businesses, never keeping them scheduled for his events frequent enough to learn anything they shouldn’t. As long as they adhered to his desires with using blood (voluntarily donated, of course) as substitute for ingredients of certain meals, he was pleased. Majority of his guests were hemovores, and it wasn’t common to indulge in nutritional foods outside of straight feedings. While vampires could eat other species meals, though gain no sustenance, the dishes with blood substitutes were the best of both worlds. It was just tricky to get right when cooking to not overdo it, though.
“As you were,” he waved to the staff, turning his direction toward the adjoining dining room where clinks of places and silverware filtered between the double doors.
As he entered, he was greeted with the giggles and tittering of his volunteers, early and clothed in semi-revealing cocktail attire. Most were women from the ages of 20 to 60’s, a few wolvens intermixed for the unorthodox, and a handful of men for other preferences. He meandered to them while his personal staff worked to complete finishing touches on the dining table, eager to greet them properly before the party.
“Good afternoon,” he plastered a dazzling grin. “I want to thank all of you for volunteering this evening and dedicating your time to make it a memorable event. Despite your roles, you are honorable guests, and I know the other contributors will be very pleased by your presence.”
“Thank you, Lord Tybur,” a few with familiarity toward vampiric courtly gestures demonstrated, with polite bows of their heads.
Charmed by the humans’ attempt at flattery, he continued. “Please keep the bell on you at all times. If you feel like you are about to pass out, or would like your companion to stop, chime it and it will be done. We have recovery rooms with hors d'oeuvres and drinks if that occurs. This is a safe event and if any guests make you feel uncomfortable or do not respect your boundaries, please do not hesitate to come to me directly.”
He received acknowledging murmurs and smiles, and a few bold promises that they understood along with shy thank you's. Some of the volunteers he recognized from prior parties and even wore badges of scars from past partners. Feedings were an intoxicating experience, especially for humans. It started as a biochemical tool for vampires to use for survival had enticed their prey after the treaty was formed. Now, rather than using it to hold prey still to feed or lull them into false comfort as the anti-coagulant venom kept their veins open, it was a sensation sought after. There were no shortage of wicked men or women wishing to experience vampiric life, even if it was merely as a meal or sexual entertainment. They got just as much out of it as the vampires. Especially to voluntarily return.
Willy encouraged such mutual desires during his dinner parties. All species would leave satisfied so long as they were safe, followed house rules, and were courteous to the humans. Anything nonconsensual or anyone participating in over-feeding would not be tolerated. There was no need for other’s lack of self-control to bring a bad light onto his own house and coven, particularly during a public event. Not in these times. Not with these particularly aristocratical and politically invited guests. His more private circle was a different story.
A catering member pushed through the doors with a platter of cupcakes heading to the main room. As they passed, Willy turned to them, causing the person to halt as he plucked a cake free and nodded at them to continue. He already recognized that it was a one of the substituted dishes based on the slight sourness beneath the usual sweet baked scent.
Peeling the wrapper back, be held it to the closest human woman with a contained sense of glee as her eyes widened. Oh yes. She was a regular, then. Already familiar with some of the so-called tainted dishes.
While these sets of humans were treated respectfully, it was not the same for the source of the ingredients. But he never feared others learning of it. Not with the ease of donations for vampires in a public sense. Merely saying he received the blood from a blood bank was simple enough for the skeptics to believe. Meanwhile, any whisper of the truth that it was victims who were the source of the dishes was treated as a silly rumor. Ghost stories meant to scare the new staff or volunteers. Something said under breath in the corners of rooms to make an individual pause, mull on it, then laugh it off because Lord Tybur would never. He was so respectful and demanded everyone treat others with honor and consent. No matter what species, he wanted all guests to leave his home satiated.
“Care to have a taste, dear?” It was an honest question. If she refused, he’d think nothing of it. Wouldn't even blame her for not wishing to eat something made from a fellow human, as he wouldn't do the same if it was a vampire.
Instead, she hesitantly nodded and leaned forward, blood rushing to her redden cheeks as the other volunteers watched with fascination. Her teeth closed around the moist cake, pulling a piece away as the pink frosting kissed the tip of her nose. The wicked thing retreated from Willy’s hand, never looking away from his eyes as her dainty finger came up to hastily wipe the icing from her face. Although she tried to be graceful and elegant in her tasting, it was clear she was struggling to choke the bite down.
It only made him more amused.
“How is it?”
“It’s good, my Lord,” she managed after finally swallowing it. A lie.
“It is.”
Just to prove he knew it like he knew the grass was green, he turned the cupcake to his own mouth, taking a bite over her own and reveling in the way her eyes dilated. Someone would be having fun with her tonight, that was for sure.
As he bid the hushed and staring group a good-bye until that evening, he walked to his room while finishing the cake. His main guests would be arriving soon, and he needed to get ready.
***
The ice clinked against the crystal tumbler of Reid’s scotch as he reclined in the leather armchair. Willy sat across from him with a wineglass eyeing Zeke who circled the back of the sofa, puffing on a dense cigar while eyeing the wall decor. The smoke almost glowed from the elaborate brass light fixture overhead, swirling and dancing toward the high ceiling. Normally, Willy wouldn’t allow his guests to smoke indoors, let alone in his pristine lounge where fumes could stick to the pages of his books. But Zeke’s sense of smell was keener than his, therefore he took care to pick specific cigars to not offend himself or others.
“What sort is that one today, Yeager?”
Zeke shifted his weight and looked at the cigar between his fingers as if examining it for the first time. “A moderate Cohiba Connecticut base with an herbal flavor profile over the top. Special order.”
“It's rather pleasant,” Reid commented. “My co-workers are under the impression that the earthier and stronger the smell, the bigger their balls. Silly, really. Their wives won’t touch them until they’ve showered and brushed their teeth. Goes to show who really runs things.”
“I wouldn’t know much about that,” Zeke stated smugly, abandoning his perusal to join them.
The door to the office opened a crack as a petite woman slipped in. She kept her head bowed and eyes to the floor as she shuffled to Willy’s side, offering a smile to their feet when the vampire greeted her.
“Iris, dear. Lovely for you to drop by.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Her voice, despite the submissive and blushing virgin demeanor, was sultry and low. “Can I tempt you with anything, sir?”
A coy smile slipped free, the tip of a fang peeking over the bottom lip. Willy glided a hand to her wrist, tugging her to perch prettily on the arm of his chair, unbothered with the other men’s eyes tracking the exchange. “I’m quite content right now, doll.”
Iris nodded but obediently stayed where she was positioned, welcoming the arm that slipped around her lower back, ending on her hip.
“Now,” Willy, picked up the glass and sipped it before directing his gaze to Reid and Zeke, “you were here to update me.”
Outside of the office lounge, the muffled music and chatter of guests tried to penetrate the hushed room. Someone screeched, which immediately tapered into giggles and laughter, possibly a volunteer being bitten somewhere they were ticklish.
“Yes,” Zeke stood at the back of the sofa, leaning his free hand on the spine of it while the other hovered the cigar above the ashtray. “I’ve reached out to one of my contacts and it seems that your wolven is in the process of becoming a part of GSIS. An official member, that is.”
“Official,” Willy huffed a breathy laugh. “Absurd. How are they expecting that to happen?"
“An old policy was exploited. Unburied would be a better term. It was established at the beginning of GSIS and someone stumbled upon it for your wolven. In a year’s time, so long as he stays out of trouble, he’ll be a citizen. I don’t know what the actual policy states or what can be exploited to counter it, but I have someone looking into it further.” Zeke took another puff of his cigar then blew it out as he spoke, “All I know is that he’s under the watchful eye of Erwin Smith.”
“Watchful eye? Elaborate,” Willy ordered, cordial tone hardening like ice.
“The reaper has gained legal custody,” Reid explained soberly, turning his tumbler between his fingers. “It’s temporary, but still very real. There was an oversight on a shelter employee’s part that somehow authorized the adoption of your wolven to Smith. I’ve already discussed it with the shelter and WMC, therefore the man responsible has been reprimanded.”
“He should be fired for his negligence,” Willy stated, words cutting with contained anger.
“He would’ve been had he not explained to us what happened. I think you’ll find it quite interesting and even something we can work to our advantage.”
“And that is?”
“Some video footage. I'll have it sent over to you as soon as I return home.”
Willy exhaled slowly and forced himself to lessen his hold on the woman’s hip. He could feel her relax beneath his palm after his nails retracted from the bunched fabric of her dress.
“Please do. I’m curious what it contains.”
“You’ll be entertained, that’s for sure.”
“Very well,” he set the wine glass down and folded a leg over the other. “I had hoped waiting him out would suffice, but it appears Smith is determined to stay a nuisance. A problem that simply won’t go away with time. Apparently, we need to start counter measures... What do we know about him?”
Zeke was the next to speak. “The man doesn’t have much respect for authority. Has an ego the size of Everest and seems to find a game out of skirting around the laws. He volunteered for WWII and served honorably, even got a few shiny new medals for his efforts. But—more interesting—he’s the reaper who hunted and gleaned Benito Mussolini and his mistress in 1945, when they attempted to flee to Switzerland.”
It took a beat for Willy to recall the name. It rang with familiarity, but not in the way of long-time companions not seen in decades. Rather it was similar to hearing a line of lyrics from a forgotten song but not knowing the rest or the artist.
“Is that the Italian fascist leader who allied with Hitler?”
“The same,” Zeke nodded. “Mussolini managed to get away from so many before until one of the Generals put Smith on his trail. Rumor is that no one’s been able to escape him once marked as a target for gleaning.”
Willy gave a facial shrug, trying to feign indifference despite the boiling ire beneath his skin. “He’ll need to be dealt with. If he gets Levi to talk, it’ll give him further leverage to sway officials who are not in our pocket. In the meantime, I’ll work on something to slow the reaper down, give him a proper distraction.”
“There is something else,” Zeke hedged, eyes dropping to the couch cushions from behind his round spectacles. It wasn’t a full submission of the lycanthrope, his neck remained protected, but it was enough for the vampire to recognize the intent. Not that he expected the Alpha of the Fritz Pack to turn belly-up in his presence. That would be a death sentence from his own clan if it ever got out that he submitted to a vampire.
“What is it?”
There was a split second of hesitation before Zeke pushed out, “Smith and your wolven are due to have a Soul Bond put in place for him to precede with his probation. It was--mandated and... and I believe Smith intends to follow through.”
The air in the lounge grew thick and stale, as if oxygen itself turned into a lukewarm soup. Willy felt his chest rise and fall from the deeper breaths he was taking trying to contain his swelling fury.
“A Soul Bond...,” he echoed quietly.
Neither Zeke nor Reid confirmed but sat very still. Even Iris had solidified into a statue against his arm. He needed to move before he hurt the fragile thing with guests outside the door. He couldn’t do anything to take his anger out on her in the presence of others.
Standing up, he paced in front of the dormant mantle, heels of his shoes clipped sharply against the hardwood.
A bond, huh?
A bond to that sycophant, vain, pig-headed reaper, of all people? Smith was a fucking child. A dilettante who thought he could go toe-to-toe with him. Thought himself clever enough to take what was Lord Tybur’s property and claim it for himself. The man’s ego clearly ran his confidence if he believed that he could amount to anything more than an irritating cricket against Willy.
His fists clenched until his stalagmite sharp nails dug into his palms, aching for a tender neck to fill the space so he could snap it, memorizing the feel of vertebrae breaking apart like a glowstick.
“How soon?” he demanded, unable to keep the rumble from his chest as the words were spat out.
Zeke’s eyes dipped low again. “Within the next week and a half.”
Willy’s feet ground to a halt on the corner of the rug. Iris remained where she was positioned but her heart was racing like a rabbit, pumping blood through her veins in a delicious cycle that would sour with the cortisol flooding. Not that he cared for flavor profiles when he was this worked up—no. No, no. He didn’t need to do anything to her right now. He was simply aching and furious, so there was no reason to lose his control and kill her. Maybe later. After the guests left.
But damn it he wished his sister could splice into Erwin Fucking Smith. Turn him into a hideous genetic malformation that would live on the steel table for her to experiment on for the rest of eternity. Just so Willy could go down on occasions and gloat in his fucking face. See how smug the reaper was after he'd been disfigured!
How dare he not only take his pet, but then plan to apply a bond. The only reason Willy never did it himself was because it would ruin the game that he and Levi started so long ago. He wanted to break Levi down on his own—let there never be a doubt that it wasn’t against the cur’s choice, because forcing compliance with a bond instead of earning it by the wolven giving up was not his goal. He wanted Levi to give in and forever carry that shame and humiliation, knowing he was no match for Willy. It’d put the mutt in his place, right at Willy’s heel where he belonged. Obedient to whatever he wanted.
And Smith--he was going to take that from him!
Just the mere thought of Levi under another’s control, after all the decades of work had him--had Willy... laughing.
He laughed.
From his throat was a chuckle, breathy and almost whimsy at first. Then it sunk deeper into his chest, echoing against the vacant cavity turning brassier until it was bouncing from his stomach walls. Louder still as he tipped his head back like he was told a hilarious joke, and long ashen locks fell between his shoulder blades while his lashes grew damp. He laughed jovially and madly, alone in the lounge as his guests watched with growing horror until Willy tilted forward—hand seizing the back of his chair—and his laugh mutated into an unhinged scream of rage that ruptured against the walls. Immediately, the voices outside the room fell deathly silent.
As he let his lungs empty out, the only other sound that existed was the shredding of leather beneath his claws and the fleeing footfalls of the terrified woman as she ran out the room, leaving Zeke and Reid waiting for Willy to recover from his fit of insanity.
Gods help that reaper.
***
Clack!
The impact of wood against wood popped off a brash echo into the forests as the vibration ran down Levi’s arms. It was powerful enough that he was sure the city over could feel the shake through the earth.
Ignoring the ache in his back and rattle in his teeth, he twisted his hip, dropped his shoulder, and like butter, the Kali stick skimmed down the length of the reaper’s Jo staff, breaking their lock until they dispersed. The separation was short lived, however, as Erwin swiftly followed Levi’s retreating steps, bringing the larger wood up for a swing. But Levi dug in his heels, dipped to the right and swept the Kali horizontally. It didn’t connect as the reaper sucked his torso inwards and lurched out of reach, forced to abandon the swing in favor of not being slammed in the ribcage. Luckily, Erwin’s self-preservation was enough to give Levi room to recover his stance.
Their spar had started off with apprehension and care, the same way one would tentatively tread into unknown waters when the bottom wasn’t visible. Footwork was neatly applied. Strikes were pulled. Personal space existed. A give and take learning process just as much as finding familiarity in handling the weight of the Kali.
Given that Levi was still uncomfortable with the scythe—he wasn’t fucking scared—Erwin had brought sparring tools from GSIS. His argument was that as they were inexperienced with each other’s skills, using their weapons was irresponsible for practice so the wooden alternatives would suffice. Levi wasn’t going to argue the logic, particularly after realizing he’d never sparred against someone aside from his uncle. Everything since then was pure violence for the sake of ending the fight quickly.
As it happened, however, the tentative approach between them had hastily dissolved into full swings and a few dirty attacks. Contusions were already swelling in reddened welts, collecting blood to the surface of their skin, but that didn’t slow either down. If anything, it urged them to find a new opening in the opponent to add another.
They had originally agreed that the measurement of their practice was best out of three.
That was four rounds ago: A win each, plus two draws.
Sweat ran down the cleft of Levi’s spine and dampened Erwin’s disheveled hair, plastering it against his forehead. Occasionally, he’d risk removing a hand from the staff to rake it out of his face where it would remain slicked back for two moves and fall into its original disarray. Levi couldn’t help but find amusement in the futility of the efforts to tame it back. It was too bad that Erwin had come to the same conclusion after the third attempt. Now, he didn’t waste time correcting the wayward hair, focusing on earning another win against Levi instead.
He lunged once more, aiming to keep Levi’s feet moving and not recover. That was how he won the last round, by crowding and bullying the hellhound into solely defensive gestures and dodges.
Overall, the match was tricky to predict. Despite Levi spending his life fighting for his survival, Erwin had lived longer and, as a result, had fought plenty. Their physical differences were another variable that made it challenging to gain an upper hand. Whereas Erwin was built like a brick shithouse and full of brute force, he was also light on his feet and didn’t overextend his strikes with the larger weapon. Everything was neat and close, energy expended only where he saw fit. Levi, on the other hand, was agile and quick, striking like a snake and dancing in and out of reach.
Their skills were respectfully well honed. While Levi had never fought a reaper before, there were some obvious traits he’d picked up during the tiresome rounds. The first was that Reapers were durable, as one would expect from a Supra. Their stamina felt infinite, despite the heavy pants and buckets of sweat in the near winter conditions. Erwin never slowed down. The second detail he learned was that they wielded impressive strength in their unassuming figures. Far stronger than Grims, which made sense having to swing a massive scythe around all the time. And the third thing Levi discovered—much to his shock and frustration—was that they could manipulate their soul energy into an outward burst of power. Like a miniature shockwave that would shove Levi right off his feet.
It was a fucking nuisance that he wanted to call out as cheating. But when fighting for your life, there were no rules for sportsmanship, so Levi chose to return the favor in kind with some dirty moves of his own.
He could see how dangerous it’d be if Erwin was ever in a real fight with a charged blade looking to dismantle a soul. Could see that Erwin had a power within him that was currently leashed, just as Levi had his own secret tricks only pulled out for extreme circumstances. It was unsettling to say the least, that even though they were learning where they stood in a combat compacity, they still wouldn’t know who would walk out alive if ever in a real battle.
Erwin lunged again, no sooner than Levi was able to root his feet under him. The swing of the staff was easy to dodge, but that was due to it being a bluff. The reaper whirled and struck out with his foot, forcing Levi to slip out of reach, then step closer to bring the mock sword into Erwin’s ribs. The clack from the barricaded strike sent another rattle up Levi’s already jarred arms, making him wonder if his bones would snap before the wood.
As Levi sidestepped, taking the risk to stay in Erwin’s space, he twisted the mock sabre to a single hand, elbowed the reaper’s wrist to throw his staff off course, and swept the wood into Erwin’s lower back. It connected into that tender place over his kidneys, earning a grunt and a follow-up retaliating hook of the staff at the back of his knee, sending Levi stumbling on his heels with his feet dancing to keep him upright. But it wasn’t enough.
Instead of fighting gravity, Levi allowed himself to fall on his back, though he kept the momentum until he was rolling onto his feet again. He nearly lost hold of his weapon, barely managing to thrust it above his head to block the next strike. Erwin was grinning, but neither gloated as they broke the stalemate and traded a combination of attacks.
There wasn’t any taunting in the fifth round as there was in the first three. Grunts of exertion, scrapes of their feet in the damp grass, the thuds and cracks of weapons connecting faster and stronger. It was all concentration and calculation.
Levi swung diagonally for the bend of Erwin’s neck just as the staff swept sideways like a windshield wiper, dislodging the attack before it could land. The grim had anticipated that and was removing his right hand to send a fist into the same spot at the reaper’s kidney when the lower end of the staff dropped downwards with force. It slammed into the top of his sneaker causing him to bark out a curse and forget his attack in favor of lurching away.
“You fucker!”
Erwin snickered, barely ducking from a retaliating swing that was halfhearted despite Levi’s ire. At least, it was initially, until the speedy withdraw from the hellhound plucked that deeply ingrained prey-drive, triggering Levi into pursuit.
The bold attack abruptly cut off Erwin’s laugh, who was now forced to block a slice toward his hip, a straight jab to his chest, upper cut toward his chin, and swipe to the inside of his knee. Levi’s gaze lit up with a new fervor when the reaper failed to hide how close the marks were from connecting and with a last-minute downward jab of his elbow, Erwin’s leg buckled as his thigh spasmed.
The grim took advantage of his vulnerability, bringing the Kali to a position to end the match, but Erwin wasn’t done yet. He sent a modulated pulse through his palm, feeling the icy trickle purge forth from his veins as the energy shoved Levi, sending him skidding ten feet backwards. The grim glared viciously as he charged forward, but it was too late. Erwin had recovered and held his staff at a slanted angle behind him with a single grip.
The following bouts of upsets, jolts, and swings were countered and returned, more snaps and reports concessioned as they traded offenses, lunging and twirling, using their weapons as extensions of themselves in any capacity to gain an edge. Levi was lightning accurate, but Erwin knew how to use the larger weapon, each end just as deadly as if separate pieces and he was by no means slow when maneuvering it.
With a wide double grip, Erwin attempted a brutish combination of push and jab with one end at Levi’s face. As a response, the grim didn’t go for a safe block, choosing to reverse grip his wood sabre with his right hand while the other halted the staff in mid thrust. The free arm snuck under the Jo, hooked the sabre over the top and outside of Erwin’s left bicep and twisted his body while sweeping his foot at Erwin’s ankle. Like a big ass tree falling, they both rotated out of balance onto the forest floor, defensive efforts only causing them to lose further control of the collapse. As a result, they both lost hold of their wood instruments as they hastily clambered to their feet, panting and rubbing damp soil and grass from their faces.
From across the meager feet in the clearing, their eyes met. Darted to the staff and sabre on the ground. Back again.
They didn’t speak a word, seemingly in mutual agreement that weapon or no, it didn’t change a thing. The round had no clear winner yet and a spar was a spar.
The corded muscles of Erwin’s naked forearms flexed as he brought his fists up with a cocky smirk. Levi raised a brow at the reaper who shook his hands out before clenching them again.
Alright.
Levi would play.
Erwin eliminated the distance between them, swinging a right hook with full rotation of his body to really make it stick. In response, Levi curved his spine backwards, feeling the air waft over him as the fist sailed past. He shoved the arm further in hopes of dislodging the larger opponent’s balance, but Erwin’s feet were planted into the earth firmly.
The grim swerved from another swing, returning a right haymaker to the reaper who ducked, then blocked Levi’s backhand with his forearm. Levi bent his elbow, maintaining contact and stepped in and connected a strike on Erwin’s chin. The sweaty straw hair snapped to the sky as Levi hit again at his ribs, twice with alternating fists. Adrenaline wasn’t boosting only Levi, however, as Erwin recovered from the attacks enough to send another energy burst at him, shoving him well across the middle of the clearing.
I’m getting fed up with those magical pulses, he grumbled to himself, dropping the center of gravity to his knees when the alternative was falling on his ass.
Erwin was on him before he could get up, sending a kick right to his face. But Levi leaned out of the line of fire, hooked his arm across the inner knee, and coiled under it just to slide toward the reaper’s ankle while he flailed on one leg. With the new advantage, Levi kept hold of the ankle, seized Erwin around his windmilling arm and jerked forwards in a roll. The spin sent them to the ground in a brutal mess of limbs, but it happened so fast that neither paid attention to the precious oxygen squeezing from their lungs nor the pain of what was sure to be rashes from the ground.
The grim rapidly resumed the upper control as he dug his feet beneath him in a crouch and sprang an elbow towards Erwin’s collarbone. A mere 8 inches before it connected to the clavicle, Erwin’s hand caught Levi, seizing the attack into a grinding halt. With a breathless smile at the grim, he huffed a laugh that sounded relieved from catching it, as if it was a hail Mary or he thought he’d be too slow. The grim responded with a smirk of his own, relishing in the heavy breaths, galloping heart, and ache in his muscles.
Devils, he missed this. He thought he’d hate the spar, find that the fighting pits left him sour on the exertion a good hand-to-hand engagement would bring him. Maybe cause some of those horrid flashbacks to resurface or debilitate him. But that never happened. For the first time in months—years—he felt truly alive.
Unfortunately, the fight wasn’t called yet as Erwin’s free hand seized the back of his head, bucked his hips, and twisted his body over. Levi found himself rolling across the forest floor, rotating his position to catch Erwin’s bulk before he could post up, then continued to use the inertia to keep going. When they halted, Levi had positioned himself so that his legs had thrown a triangle choke around the reaper’s neck and right shoulder, which he proceeded to ratchet his thighs tight enough to hold his opponent in place. The man may have had the advantage of Levi being on his back, but that lack of blood to his brain was about to be a real problem.
Erwin cursed under his breath, eyes jerking up to meet Levi’s when he failed to bulldog free. Not giving up while having some precious moments of consciousness, Erwin adjusted their position, testing Levi’s hold as he rocked his hips forward, forcing the grim’s spine to curl. Yet Levi maintained his hold like a tick, burrowed deep and stubborn. Now, with their faces merely a foot apart, Levi could see a bright flush spread across Erwin’s damp face as his eyes widened and he swallowed. The man's Adam's apple rubbed against the sensitive skin of Levi’s inner thigh, sending his skin prickling involuntarily. Assuming the reaper was simply getting lightheaded, despite the hold not being fully tightened, Levi tugged Erwin’s pinned arm and looked pointedly at the free hand. A clear indication to tap out.
But Erwin wasn’t moving. Instead, he stared with a laser focus on Levi, as if confused about what was happening. It was a bit discomforting the way Erwin didn’t flinch or fight to break free. If Levi’s thighs were tighter, he’d consider that the reaper was already unconscious with his eyes opened, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Well, not yet at least. Was the man just losing access to his braincells?
“Oi, what are you waiting for? Tap out, Blondie. Or pass out. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
That seemed to finally snap the reaper out of whatever had made him stuck, causing him to hastily tap his hand on Levi’s thigh. Immediately, Levi released a breath as every muscle fell slack on the forest floor in relief--which meant Erwin’s weight had nowhere to go but down.
Pain exploded between his legs, brutal and sharp, erasing all other thoughts as his eyes blew open and oxygen to escape his lungs in a gasp.
“Oo-Fuck!”
“S-sorry! Oh, damn--fuck—I’m sorry, Levi!”
The grim rolled over with eyes clenched, hands held protectively over his crotch as Erwin jerked upright on his knees. The reaper hovered unhelpfully above Levi who cracked his eyes open to glare poison at him.
“What’s wrong with you?” he wheezed.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“That was your fucking elbow!”
“I’m sorry!”
Somehow, despite all odds, the reaper was turning as red as a tomato, grimacing as he battled with himself on trying to help or back away. Truthfully, Levi hated that description, but with the burning, attention-snagging pain in his nether regions, it was hard to find a matching color in nature. The pathetic panic was such a foreign look on the usually poised reaper, that Levi had a hard time wrapping his head around it before he huffed. Even as the pain continued to radiate from his groin, he snorted out a half-laugh and shook his head, grimacing.
“I still won, you prick.”
But Erwin wasn't listening. “I think we have ice in the freezer. Or something. Maybe peas--Look, I really didn’t mea—”
“I’m not putting ice on my balls! Damn it... just relax. It’s fine.” Levi closed his eyes as the ache started to blessedly recede, but he didn’t get up yet or turn over. “It was an accident. I’m not pissed.”
Erwin didn’t look convinced, but at least he shut up. Not that the change was any better, as the quiet felt disturbed with a creeping awkwardness that Levi couldn’t put a finger on. What was the reaper’s deal? He was acting strange... er. Stranger than usual.
“You good, Blondie?” he asked to the kneeling man beside him when white splotches were no longer hindering his vision.
“Are you?” he threw back, oddly bitter.
“Peachy. Told you I won.”
Erwin shook his head as he rocked off his heels, so he was sitting on his ass. With his knees bent, he rested his elbows on top and glanced towards the abandoned wooden dowels near the trees. “Seems I’ve gotten rusty with my hand-to-hand. You finished that unbelievably quick. I’m sort of embarrassed.”
“Sorry to break your perfect record.”
“You don’t sound very sorry.”
Levi shrugged, eyes closed as he favored the chilly breeze against his flushed skin once he was sprawled comfortably on his back. He wasn’t quite up for standing if he could put it off a little longer. Boney fucking reaper. He wouldn’t have guessed that by the thick muscled forearms and defined pecs under the sweat ladened shirt--which Levi did not spend an unhealthy number of glances at.
“No. Not really. Guess that means more practice for you. Get familiar with the ground, Smith. You’ll be seeing it often.”
“I wish you’d stop using my surname all the time. It doesn’t put separation between us, Levi. It’s just rude.”
“So is elbowing your partner in the balls.”
“... You’re such a brat.”
The grim smirked as the dappled sunlight from the branches teased over his eyelids. “Big crybaby.”
***
The week passed faster than Levi anticipated. A routine had settled into place, no longer forcing him to idly sit in his belligerent thoughts and boredom. Not that studying dry ass GSIS regulations was an improvement, per say, but it did make the morning go by quicker. It also helped that he had his own motivation to pass the exams which Shadis was preparing; some supposed makeshift test to ensure he had a basic understanding of what was protocol and legal. Levi wasn’t expected to do any legitimate agency work, seeing as he was severely underqualified. More internship errands and chores than anything, which was fine by him. So long as he didn’t have to go through the obedience enrollment, he would scrub toilets and take out trash if that’s what Shadis demanded.
Despite the agreement to allow Levi to serve his year with the agency, that didn’t mean he was entirely excluded from WMC’s follow-ups. Due to his red-flagged status, they were still mandated to attend quarterly meetings with the caseworker to ensure no additional rehabilitation was required. From the sounds of it, it came across as genuine therapy rather than rehabilitation training which did ease their concerns when they received WMC’s authorization. Clint promised them that while he never worked with clients going through the process Erwin had chosen, he was still excited to learn the procedure and help wherever he could. He seemed genuine in his assistance, so Erwin was keen to ramp up his charm during the phone call. Any ally in WMC was an asset to keep in their pocket.
As a result, that left a pattern of studying in the morning while Erwin hogged half the kitchen island with his miscellaneous work for the active murder case. Levi wasn’t entirely sure what Erwin was able to accomplish at the cabin with his laptop and various files compared to field investigation. The internet wasn’t anything like it had been in the 90’s and even then, Levi wasn’t that familiar with it. Today, technology had advanced to quickly that he felt like a man out of time. Another reminder that the world seamlessly moved on without him.
Erwin gave Levi a tablet to study on or even play games during whatever breaks he needed, but aside from experimenting with it, the grim quickly lost interest. Books were familiar and comfortable, so he regularly chose that instead. Granted he knew he was only hurting his progress with technology the more he pushed it off, so he reluctantly tried to mess with the phone or tablet for thirty minutes here and there before growing bored.
There had been three days that Erwin was required to go in for work. Each time, Levi was luckily not required to attend, although that would change once he passed the exam and qualifications for the firearm. Shadis had made a point to lay out some stringent parameters regarding Levi carrying weapons in public, saying that he was only allowed to do it under extreme circumstances and not daily like other agents. It was asinine really. How would Levi know beforehand if he was entering the so-called ‘extreme circumstance’ if he wasn’t even participating in legitimate casework? It wasn’t like he was part of the tactical unit called for severe situations. If shit hit the fan while they were in the field, it was too late to go back to GSIS and arm up. But whatever made the decrepit reaper happy and kept him out of Levi’s hair then fine.
During the days Erwin was in the city, Levi treated himself to some outdoor recreation, shifting to his grim form and taking to the forest. It was not only a pastime he tried to indulge in but helped when the house was too quiet and his thoughts too loud. Just because he was building the foundations of a routine didn’t imply he was distracted enough to avoid his personal demons. Hallucinations were always on the edge of wakefulness, teasing in his peripheral and poking at his brain.
At one point, when grabbing fruit from the bowl, he saw in his peripheral four coal-black and decayed fingers reaching through the digital screen of the stove toward him. He lurched away and snapped his head to counter the anomaly, yet when he blinked it was gone. Nothing but the innocent, plastic face of the oven stared at him. Levi thought seeing weird shit like that often wouldn’t cause him to react so dramatically, though it never went away. He could tell himself until he was blue in the face that it was only his imagination, but then he’d recall the gaunt skin stretched and leathery over the knuckles, and his feeble reassurances did little to convince his frayed mind.
Hallucinations weren’t the only thing haunting him in his waking hours. One day, Erwin had been reviewing various news sites, following Tybur through the slimy, yet diligent work of paparazzi or local events. Levi hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, didn’t even know Erwin was doing it, if he was being honest. Up to that point, whatever Erwin was working on was his business and the reaper usually informed Levi if it was something that involved the grim. That was why, when he was fixing a cup of tea, hearing that oil-slick accent floating through the kitchen had startled Levi into dropping the kettle on the mug and shattered the ceramic.
He was instantly pissed off, especially from being startled with his heart finding a new home in his throat. When Erwin jumped from the stool and rushed to make sure Levi was alright, the grim had aggressively patted the counter dry, shoved the mug into the trash, and snapped at the reaper. A series of ‘I’m fine’ and ‘what the fuck are you even doing, watching that fucker?’. It was irrational and inappropriate. Erwin hadn’t known it would cause that explosive outcome, particularly when it was an accident. But Levi was blinded by his sentiments, stomping into his room where he stayed until he eventually calmed.
When dinner rolled around, the grim sullenly crept out with an edge of frustration still holding on for dear life, but essentially his ire was beaten down by embarrassment and shame. He only made it halfway through the pitiful apology to Erwin for his behavior when the reaper cut him off, asking if he ever had lava cake before.
It was a peace offering. A ‘water under the bridge, let’s move on from it.’ approach. There weren’t any words Levi could bring forth in that moment to show how much he appreciated it.
Since then, Erwin made a point to wear earbuds to avoid Levi from hearing the voice of his tormentor, especially in the house that was the safest place he’d come to know. Erwin admitted afterwards how terrible of an oversight it was of him. No shit.
As for the routines after lunch, the schedule was a bit looser. They sparred twice more, although Erwin had not taken Levi up on hand-to-hand practice whenever brought up. A rosy tint would creep to Erwin’s ears, and he would change the subject to a different fighting style he wanted to test Levi on instead. He’d even go so far as to make it sound like it was part of the agenda the entire time. If Erwin was still embarrassed for landing on his crotch, he wasn’t sure what else to do to get him passed it. He already told the reaper he wasn’t mad, but maybe it was something else. Perhaps Erwin just didn’t want to get his ass handed to him again for the sake of his pride.
When they weren’t sparring, Erwin had set up the space in the living room for Levi to start EMDR, making it quiet and comfortable. They went over what to expect, how communication was key if something started to overwhelm Levi or he needed a break, and some techniques to try. Even though Levi was going to keep the recollection to himself by playing the memory in his head, there was a chance for negatives emotions to saturate his control. To prevent it, Erwin suggested recalling a positive place in his mind to counteract it. But Levi was hesitant to taint a good memory by linking it so suddenly to something drenched in tar, and he said as much to Erwin, which prompted another search online. When he unfurled from the screen, Erwin instructed Levi to visualize containing the negative spillage into a box or a mason jar like captured fireflies.
“They have fireflies in Ireland, right? You’re familiar with the concept?”
“Yeah, Blondie. Don’t know about today, but they used to have plenty glittery fucks. I get the reference.”
So, with the safety warnings covered and a rule in place to start on a memory that wasn’t so extreme, Erwin used the laptop to put a video on with a light bouncing back and forth rhythmically on the screen.
Unfortunately, EMDR was not as straightforward as they had hoped, no matter what research Erwin conducted beforehand. Or maybe it wasn’t the process itself that was tricky, but Levi’s own wrongness popping its ugly head up again.
He did as he was instructed, choosing a negative memory that upset him but wasn’t severe like his collection that was buried deeper. It was something he thought he’d come to terms with a long, long time ago. Aged with tattered and curled edges from moisture, sepia toned and musty. But as he recalled the details and what led to the result, tracking the light became a chore rather than a tool. The memory began to suck him in, and his eyes gradually stopped pursuing the screen, choosing to stare off blankly into the distance. Thankfully, Erwin managed to bring him out of it easily enough but getting lost in his recollection and dissociating was going to be an issue.
They tried a different approach.
Instead of a visual cue, Erwin gave Levi a set of headphones so he could listen to a sound alternate from the left speaker to the right. An unoffensive beep that allowed Levi to close his eyes and recall what he needed. Once again, they hit a roadblock. Noise was used as a tool in Levi’s torture. It didn’t matter if it was total deprivation, leaving him in cloying silence for days, or sensory overload with overstimulating and incessantly loud commotion. Something as simple as a steady back and forth, noise and absence, seemed to strum an inner string that connected to those separate methods of suffering.
He lasted less than 25 seconds before he was ripping the headset off and tossing it on the coffee table. Levi had stopped the session right at the edge of an anxiety attack that had his instincts urging him to run out of the house. Miraculously, Erwin managed to keep him seated and to calm down enough to explain why it wouldn’t work:
The white room had no sound. The oubliette had too much. The inconsistency of the headset fried his nerves like touching his tongue to an outlet.
It was the first time he verbally acknowledged actual forms of torture from Tybur and to say Erwin was speechless was an understatement. There was a genuine effort for the reaper to respond and much to Levi’s relief, it wasn’t pity or a slew of questions dripping all over him. Instead, Erwin tied everything up with a therapeutic bow and promised to keep looking for another method that would help Levi. He wasn’t giving up yet.
The next genius technique was, of all things, two crayons. Erwin rolled out a poster paper, gave Levi a random color for each hand and told him to alternate marking the page. It didn’t matter if he watched what he was doing or did it with his eyes closed, so long as he moved one side of his body at a time. The procedure managed to give Levi a chance to work through a memory in its entirety, but he wasn’t entirely thrilled with the process. Between switching to his non-dominant hand, he had to concentrate or readjust his grip which annoyed him when in the middle of an already uncomfortable recollection.
They decided to stick it out for a couple days, just to see if he’d overcome the inconvenience. Some sessions worked much like the first, while others, Levi would become stuck in mid transition, retreating too far into the recesses of his mind. That forced Erwin to implement a couple grounding exercises to prevent a spiral, which consisted of Levi naming three countries he’d been to, two fruits he ate that week, where he was currently, and naming something he could smell at that moment.
He felt horrible for experimenting with Levi rather than just finding what was efficient and moving on with it. A few times, he toyed with the idea of finding a professional to assist. Even if it was a licensed therapist who watched through a virtual appointment, surely that would be better than Erwin stumbling through it. The only thing that stopped him from making the phone call was that Levi wouldn’t get anything from it. Even if they were on the laptop, the grim no doubt remain hesitant under a stranger’s attention.
In the end, it wasn’t a complete loss in effort, as the next attempt he made for Levi was holding a stress ball in each hand and squeezing them in turns. So far, that had a better response, particularly with the tougher memories that allowed him to clench his fist when it became too much. Not to mention, it acted as a good visual cue for Erwin to know when Levi needed a break.
Everything was far from perfect. No metaphorical walls crumbling or tearful moments of vulnerability where he sought comfort from Erwin. No promising signs of healing; however, the seeds were planted. Regardless of his worry that things may get worse, until their dedicated efforts had a chance to flourish into something with shape, they would hope for the best.
For now, they at least seemed to be heading in the right direction.
***
“I get it, Levi. Trust me, I do,” Hange repeated, from the distant armchair. “But are you saying that even in the Netherworld, they don’t have documentation of birth or identity?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now?” Levi scowled from the stool at the island while Erwin bustled in the kitchen. The reaper kept his back turned to avoid either of them dragging him into the discussion. “They barely have currency there. Why would they ever need documentation?”
“I mean, Grims are living creatures, as are demons or whatever other species inhabit the Netherworld, right?”
Levi didn’t respond, but she seemed to interpret his deadpanned glare as an answer.
“Well, I’ll assume that’s a yes. So, why wouldn’t they have some basic form of existence? Something with their home of address or age or... whatever.”
“Because it’s part of the afterlife. I’m not sure what you’re not getting, Four-eyes. It’s not a nation in bum-fuck Antarctica with a fucking mail system. It’s the in-between space of the living and Gods. Like purgatory. I don’t know what more you’re expecting.”
“Details of course! I want to know all about the Netherworld!”
“Sorry to say this,” Levi didn’t sound apologetic at all, “but I’ve already spoken too much about it. You wanna find out more, then gotta wait until you die.”
“Booo. You're murdering my joy, Levi.”
Erwin glanced over his shoulder to see Hange visibly slump in the chair, looking like her bones melted out of her. Had Levi been more comfortable with her presence, he was sure she would have already closed the distance and be shaking the man until the answers fell out of him, though he was sure instead of information, she’d only get salt. In a similar scenario, Levi would hold her off on his own with a carefully applied lethal glare, even if Erwin lacked evidence to back up the deadliness. It was just one of those things you didn’t actually test unless you had something to prove. Like the laws of gravity or how battery acid wasn’t edible more than once.
Then again, it was Hange Zoe he was referencing.
“Did you pick a movie?” Erwin asked before she could gather up a scheme for a new line of questions.
Levi was doing much better the last few meetings with the vampire; he didn’t want to take steps backwards now just because she got too excited. Erwin may go to her for advice and outside perspective, but she was not infallible from her own guidance to be kept in line.
Hange sat up and clicked a button on the remote, dismissing the screensaver on the television. “Sure, how’s a RomCom sound like?”
“Never seen it,” Levi shrugged, meeting Erwin’s gaze as he set a bowl of buttered popcorn down by his elbow. The grim twisted in the stool enough to help himself to a handful, though never fully turned his body away from the vampire or allowed her to leave his peripheral. “Is it any good, Blondie?”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “It’s not the title of a movie but rather a genre. I’m not entirely sure if you’d like it or not, to be honest.”
“What genre?”
Hange shouted from the living room, “Romantic Comedy! It’s usually about people meeting and everything going completely wrong and it’s hilarious. Most of the time, anyway. There are some movies that seem to try too hard and are more comedy than anything. Where does your humor land on the spectrum? Do you like stupid, slapstick humor or dry and witty?”
“I don’t know what half those terms are.”
“Dry and witty. Probably steer away from RomCom’s for now then, although I did notice you have a bit of toilet humor to you. Maybe it’s worth you and Erwin watching together on your free time.”
At that comment, Erwin sent a squinted gaze to the boisterous vampire occupying his reading chair.
“Why would we do that, Hange?” he asked pointedly, sensing her ulterior motive.
“No particular reason. Why? Did you think I meant something by it, Ervy?” she asked, cocking a brow over the rim of her glasses.
Bold, Hange. I see your scheming.
Choosing to ignore her, he turned to grab the plate of pretzels and Nutella for the nosy guest, gesturing for Levi to follow with his bowl of popcorn. Rounding the couch, he set the pretzels and spread beside Hange, so she didn’t have to reach for it and unsettle Levi with movement, then took a seat on the sofa. The leather groaned as it accepted his weight, finally being broken in after many nights of sleeping on it. Of course, Levi was leaning on the farthest armrest, watching Hange warily and moving like a shadow as usual. Erwin tried not to feel self-conscious when the couch didn’t complain under Levi’s weight.
“Just to be clear,” Hange started once they were settled. “I wasn’t trying to be obnoxious or rude if my questions felt like they were prying. While I’m dying to know more about the Netherworld and your species, I was only asking if there was some last-minute way we could skirt around the soul bond is all. Any sort of papers may be enough to argue a case.”
Erwin watched her bite into a pretzel as he apprehended the remote from beside the plate. “Even if that was a possibility, I highly doubt documents would translate well through realms, not to mention we’re avoiding anything that would reveal Levi is a Hellhound.”
Hange visibly deflated. “Yeah, I get it. Plus, there’d still be several hoops to jump through, I’m sure, especially given the whole fighting ring situation. Still, papers may have helped us with a chance for him to apply for citizenship the usual way. Then he could have an opportunity to be protected by the 14th Amendment, so you two wouldn’t need the bond.”
“The Amendment only applies to individuals already citizens or naturalized. If we went that route, we wouldn’t need to use GSIS to begin with. If he had papers from Ireland, we could make that work, but we’ve established that’s not the case.”
“But you’re a citizen,” she countered. “It’s an infringement on your rights.”
“I’m also the one who volunteered ownership—sorry, Levi—of him, so legally I agreed to follow protocol for stray wolvens. I’ve already looked into that argument.”
“I know, I know. And it's not like we have time on our side to mess around with courts... But,” she dragged the word out, a toothy grin sliding up her face, “getting your citizenship through marriage would’ve been easer!”
Levi, even though not one to make a lot of movement in normal circumstances, seemed to freeze over in mid chew. He sent a side-eye to Erwin who shook his head, looking for an apology for the wayward vampire but finding none that he hadn’t already issued. Instead, he focused his efforts on the woman herself.
“And who were you expecting Levi to marry exactly in this hypothetical scenario of yours?”
“You, of course.” Hange shrugged. “Or Jean. Eren told me he was stealing little glances at Levi during a team briefing.”
A series of reactions cycled through Erwin’s chest. The first caused his blood to heat at her blatant admission of the not-so-sly plot she was playing, confirming the reaper’s earlier suspicions. The second was a stomach-lurching drop after she threw out Jean’s name. He wasn’t in the bullpen when Levi was sitting with the team until after the younger agents left, so he had no basis to go on aside from hearsay from the vampire. While she was unabashedly honest, Hange had also been known to spin the truth in a way to get a reaction.
Erwin wasn’t the only manipulator in the room.
“Jean’s dating Marco.”
Hange repeated the shrug, pretending to adjust her sleeve. “So? You know as well as I do that courting isn’t synonymous to a binding commitment. All I’m saying is Jean’s apparently given our boy here some appreciative once overs.”
The fact Levi was being oddly quiet didn’t help Erwin’s defense. He knew he was attracted to the grim. Found his snarky backtalk enjoyable and his company pleasant. Even knew there was a slight age difference between them—though that was rather common for Supras. But was Levi quiet because he was flattered by Jean’s attention? Was Jean even interested or was Eren and Hange mistaken? Honestly, he wasn’t going to trust much of what Eren had to deduce when it came to reading people, least of all his rival Jean, so there was some doubt in the legitimacy of Hange’s recap. But still...
“And you do know marriage is binding,” he tossed back. “So, I think we can agree it’s wrong to thrust that on someone as an easy fix.”
The attempt to inflict guilt on the vampire missed its mark. Missed, was apprehended, and fired back at him.
“You act like you haven’t been engaged twice already. I figured you’d love a third chance.”
“Twice?” Levi asked incredulously at Erwin, scrutinizing him with furrowed brows. “I thought it was only once?”
.... What?
“Who told you I was engaged before?” Erwin asked, now mirroring the confusion.
Unhelpfully, Hange jumped right into the discussion, vibrating with excitement for gossip. “Oh yeah, Levi! There was a bombshell of a blonde lady-friend before in England. Together, they were the peak of Hollywood glam if I’ve ever seen it. Granted that was way before ‘Hollywood glam’ was a thing, but you get my point. Red carpet ready wherever they went. ”
Erwin turned his glare onto Hange. “That was ages ago. Remember our agreement? If it happened over 150 years, we drop it.”
Predictably, she cackled as if that rule didn’t apply to her, despite it being agreed upon with the entire friend group.
Beside him, Levi grabbed popcorn from the bowl between them, but before eating it, he muttered, “Sounds like I’m not exactly Smith’s type, Four-eyes. You should know better than that.”
Hange’s laughter cut off abruptly while Erwin fixed him with a strange look, which Levi turned away from.
“Don’t let him fool you, munchkin,” Hange explained as if the reaper wasn’t sitting right between them, “He makes poor decisions with blondes, but he’s always looking at dark-haired people. Men and women alike, aren’t you?”
What is happening?
“Are we going to pick a movie?” Erwin asked exasperatedly.
“Not until you answer me first,” Hange bullied. “I’m correct, aren’t I?”
Erwin knew how to pick his battles and Hange was on a warpath. Feigning aloofness, he gave a half shrug, “I like who I like.”
And damn him for sending a hasty glance to see Levi’s reaction, where their gazes connected for a hard second that seemed longer than the previous. Then Erwin promptly turned to the television when he felt his ears grow warm and lifted the remote to banish the screensaver again.
“So, movie...”
Hange scoffed and picked up a pretzel, pointing it at them from her chair. One would think she was under the impression she sat atop a throne and wielded a scepter. “I don’t know why you two are getting defensive over marriage. You’re about to be soul bonded soon. What’s the big deal about entertaining what-ifs?”
Erwin knew the danger of what-ifs. Knew very well the power they held and how they could needle into one’s grey matter and spread more hope-induing thoughts like rhizomatous roots.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit curious what was currently being nurtured within Levi’s mind.
Notes:
Oh, Hange. Such a good wingman, even if you give Erwin a couple grey hairs in the process. Too bad Tybur is on his own warpath now. Things are getting very personal.
Man, I was afraid I was going to miss the update this week, but managed to get it all typed out. I'm hoping to catch back up this weekend with the next chapter, so we'll see. Next time: the bond!
Thank you for reading, whether you're new or one of the vets since the beginning!! I appreciate everyone and hope all is well in this crazy world!
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 22: Bound
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The day started off with a bad feeling that lodged inside Levi’s brain like a malady. The grim felt tainted since he woke up, along with being followed by the creeping anticipation. They had held off on the bond for as long as possible, but as the saying went: time and tide stops for no man—and all that shit.
The two weeks were up. Levi’s meager liberty would now be splintered further for the sake of survival. A choice he hoped he wouldn't come to regret.
As it happened, the ever-growing distress of the impending bond was taking a toll on his already abused psyche. Levi had considered, rather proudly, that he was managing his anxiety well. He fooled himself into thinking that if he was to tie himself to anyone, Erwin had proven to be a somewhat trustworthy candidate. He had gone above and beyond trying to keep Levi safe and out of WMC’s control, which was insane to think his opinion of the reaper had already changed so drastically. It wasn’t that long ago that he had wished the muzzle was off so he could sink his teeth into the man when shoved against the side of the van. And yet, here he was, agreeing to a bond that would keep him as the reaper’s shadow—trusting Erwin wouldn’t abuse the power he would hold over Levi for his own end goals. A lot to ask in the sparse few weeks of knowing someone.
So, all that to say he was in a foul mood. Something dark had hooked its fangs into Levi’s nightmare and joined him in the waking world, leaving him quiet as they drove to their appointment.
The sleet glazed road disappeared beneath the hood of the old truck, splashing puddles near curbs of intersections. Levi fiddled with the stress ball he’d brought with him in his lap, though his attention was otherwise directed to the passing world outside. There were a few glimpses between buildings and trees of the lonely Sound, washed out by the dreary grey of the cold, wet morning.
Along either side of the street were matching complexes with many windows that lacked the ability to see beyond privacy films. Sleek in a way that was meant to be neutral in its efforts to impress while not hinting toward what the purpose was for the structure. The only indication were the various Suite numbers and brick and mortar signs stating what high-and-mighty doctor was assigned to each building. Some were clearly written with an overarching title such as 'Family Physician' while others had individual names preceding MD’s and DDS’s acronyms.
It wasn’t exactly what Levi had in mind when they set out for the day, given the rather questionable description Erwin and Hange divulged with the bond. Not that either were experts aside from combined research and forums online. Erwin and Levi had agreed to not watch videos of it being done or the aftereffects, seeing as it would only make the dread worse. Despite Erwin’s undying curiosity to know what it entailed; he respected Levi far too much to ignore the request. It also helped that Erwin was sickened by the dehumanization of the act which kept his usual thirst for knowledge tightly subdued. When he explained to Levi that the bond would be applied via a tattoo gun, he was expecting just that. Some sort of tattoo shop or facility along those lines.
Medical complexes with sharp needles and people in scrubs were not on his list of possibilities.
“I’ve called again this morning to ensure we wouldn’t cross any hemovore employees once inside. Also, the office promised that we’ll be in a private room for the application, so relatively undisturbed,” Erwin said from the driver’s seat, speaking over the soft tunes of the radio. “And I know I’ve said it before, but I do not intend to abuse my power over you. As we agreed, it'll only be used in dire circumstances if I cannot stop you by other means.”
It went without saying that the only situations they were concerned about was if he lost his shit around a vampire. Regardless, Levi’s hand clenched tighter around the stress ball.
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“Well,” Erwin hedged slowly, “I can’t make you interpret my words any particular way...”
Levi tried not to get frustrated with the reaper, telling himself he wasn’t the only one not wanting to go through with it. Erwin was far from enthusiastic since the night prior and barely spoken at all throughout the drive. But as far as mutual sympathy went, that was the limit. Levi couldn’t entirely direct his anger at Erwin, nor could he extinguish it completely. While it helped to know Erwin was against the bond, he wasn’t the one that would lose more of his autonomy.
No leash for the Reaper, but for the Hellhound? Absolutely.
Put the collar on the cur and keep him heeled.
“But you want to,” Levi retorted bitterly. “Make me interpret them as comfort, that is.”
Erwin’s chest rose a few centimeters higher as he swallowed a sigh before answering. “I think it’s fair to say everyone wants to avoid misunderstanding when talking to someone. Miscommunication or confusion is not what I want, but it’s not up to me to decide with how you perceive things.”
“How very philosophical.”
“Well, I do aim to impress you, Levi.”
The grim flicked his eyes toward Erwin, catching a ghost of a teasing smile, yet it never fully took shape. It was a weak attempt to lighten the mood, though Levi couldn’t say he hated Erwin’s effort. It helped, in its own way.
In that final week before the appointment, they were busy preparing for the inevitable. The day prior, Erwin took him to GSIS where he was given his exam by the director and planted in the conference room until he was finished. Then, while one of Shadis’ fellow supervisors graded Levi’s policy knowledge, the grim was shuffled to the basement for 9 mm qualifications, which was a breeze compared to the written test. He passed effortlessly, although it seemed to have Shadis even more wary than reassured. Erwin promised Levi that there were few things in the world that pleased the old man and not to take it personally.
The rhythmic clicking of the blinker pulled Levi’s focus to the car park, seeing the building that the Satnav referenced as their destination. From there, everything happened in a blur. Erwin led the way inside the lobby that smelled of vanilla plug-ins, informed the clerk of their arrival and within minutes, they were whisked away into a private space that was much like a typical medical room.
A rectangular cushioned table that had hydraulics was bent into a makeshift chair and off center on the floor. Jar of cotton swabs, tongue depressors, locked monitor screen and various drawers filled two corners of the room. Erwin allowed Levi to choose the furthest seat from the single entry and exit, and sat beside him to give the illusion of an extra barrier from anyone perceived as a threat.
As they waited for the person to come in, Levi’s knee bounced while compressing the ball until it was hidden entirely in his palm. He could feel Erwin watching him twitch but he kept his eyes on the opposite side of the room, straining his ears to hear anyone coming in the corridor.
“How’s your weather, Levi?”
The knee slowed but didn’t stop. “Stormy.”
“Hurricane level or thunderstorm?”
Levi considered it a moment, comparing the rapid thrumming of his heart, the sensation of being trapped, and need to dart out of the door. “Er... windstorm. Hail.”
Erwin nodded, tapping his finger against the back of his hand in thought. “What can I do to make this easier?”
“Aside from getting me out of here?” he scoffed, knee picking up its pace. “Nothing. Just want to get it over with.”
They sat there quietly, pondering what they were about to commit to and how they were on the cusps of severe change. While Levi solidified his decision by repeating it was worth it to kill Tybur--Devils, I’ve already done unspeakably worse things—he had half-expected Erwin to back out. The grudge Erwin maintained against the vampire was serious, sure, but nowhere near the level Levi’s hatred ran. He didn’t have to bind himself to Levi to find something on Tybur. There were a number of options for Erwin to get what he wanted without sponsoring the grim, yet he was dedicated to helping Levi. And to do so, this was the most logical solution.
He didn't get a chance to ponder it further when Erwin, out of the blue, placed a hand on Levi’s knee. It was not in a motion to stop, rather just for gentle contact. His gaze darted to the unexpected appendage; however, he didn’t say anything of it, coming to terms with its presence almost as soon as it settled. There was a slight buzz of energy that seemed to transfer from the reaper’s palm into Levi’s femur and up his spine, creating a different sort of energy within. One that didn't need to be expelled but rather bottled up and collected. It was... nice. Almost to the point that he considered for a fraction of a second to lean into it.
“If you’d like,” Erwin inched, “I’ll go first, that way you can watch the entire process and know what'll happen.”
Levi flicked his eyes to the reaper, and after a beat, nodded. “Yeah. Alright.” Then as an afterthought, he forced himself to add haltingly, “And would you—would you mind. Staying. During mine? Not that I need you here. I just thought. That given the circumstances--”
“Of course,” Erwin nodded with sincerity before Levi could stumble further on his false bravado. “I was hoping you’d let me stay. I’d feel better, supervising that is.”
Levi gave another jerky nod, pleased that it was shared distress rather than just him being a bratty child. Fuck, why couldn’t he keep his shit together? This was embarrassing.
There was a knock on the door that had Levi stiffening even as Erwin retracted his hand. The spot of his knee felt cold from the absence as the door opened to reveal a woman with chestnut microbraids pulled into a high ponytail.
“Good morning. I’m Anita and I’ll be your technician today. Congratulations on the bond. I’m sure you’re excited for this new step in your life,” she smiled pleasantly, pulling out the chair from the desk as she set a clipboard down. “How are you two doing? Feeling nervous?”
“You could say that,” Erwin replied with a fake smile that could fool anyone into thinking it was real. Levi refused to speak, allowing Erwin to take the lead.
The following ten minutes was a whirl of questions and details of what to expect from the appointment, leading to key details of how they were planning to transfer the link between them. Seeing as Erwin was the so-called "owner” of Levi—which even he could see the reaper struggling to swallow the title down—he needed to supply the “ingredient” into the ink before they could get started.
And fuck if that term didn’t have Levi nearly retching right there. Why did they have to use that word to describe Erwin’s biological donation? It brought far too many memories to the surface that had his mouth filling with saliva and his throat constricting.
Fortunately, Erwin was already aware of the sample he had to supply, so seeing as neither were aware of what Levi’s blood type was, nor were they willing to allow a stranger to have access to his DNA, Erwin permitted the technician to extract some of his soul energy.
“I always enjoy getting reapers in for bonds. The ink goes on so smoothly and it even has a glittery sheen to it with soul residue imbedded inside,” Anita commented while preparing gloves, alcohol swabs, a syringe, tube, and a large, intimidating cylinder on a rolling tray.
Levi continued to eye the equipment guardedly, though nearly flinched when he spotted how massive the needle was for the extraction. Erwin didn’t seem surprised as he took off his blazer and folded it over the back of the chair. He had dressed down in a simple T-shirt underneath rather than the button-up and vest, despite them having to go to GSIS after the appointment.
“Do you work with reapers often?”
“No,” she shook her head as he took a seat by the table. “Reapers dealing with adoptions are rare. But we get enough in through the year that we don’t have to worry about getting rusty with the process.”
They chatted a little more while Erwin continued to send reassuring glances at Levi who watched the process with a predatory level of intensity. If the technician noticed his creepy gaze, she never mentioned it as Erwin took his shirt off so she could prepare the extraction site: the center of his chest.
It was the first time of seeing Erwin shirtless, and Levi was struggling between drinking in the firm pecs, feeling guilty for leering at the man’s bare chest, and then forgetting it all as the needle was guided toward his torso. The technician’s latex gloves prodded at Erwin's sternum, finding the connection of the ribs.
“There’s your manubrium,” she said conversationally, as her fingers worked over Erwin’s muscles. “Now I’m just searching the space between your first and second rib... Ah, there. Ok. This will be a strong pinch. Are you ready?”
Erwin nodded, shocking Levi with how relaxed he was when faced with a needle that was easily 16 gauge prepared to penetrate his chest cavity. He supposed there was a benefit for not being the ‘handler’ of the pair as Levi was going to be spared from needing anything extracted from his body. There was no way he’d be as tolerant as the reaper.
With a quick countdown, she inserted the needle, hitting what he assumed was bone, then angling it purposefully upward. Beads of blood dripped from the wound which she hastily wiped away, before giving Erwin a paper towel over his lap, just in case any blood started to leak too far towards his clothes. Levi could feel himself bristling defensively, forcing himself to stay in the chair and not drag the woman by her neck away from Erwin.
The needle remained in place as the syringe was removed and an attachment was screwed into the backing, which was linked to a clear tube and a plastic butterfly wing at the end. The massive cylinder was grabbed next, with a lithium battery that had a label on the side stating ‘electromagnetic’. The butterfly wings screwed into a male adapter at the top while a wire and prod was unwound from the container and pressed near the source of the needle.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Smith?”
Levi could tell by the dewy dampness of Erwin’s hairline that he was rather uncomfortable, but otherwise he didn’t hint at the pain.
“I’m doing fine right now.”
“Alright. Good. I’ll need you to flex your energy until the device beeps. Try to do it steadily and not surge too much at once. As if you’re summoning your scythe slowly.”
Without a word, Erwin followed her directions.
A tiny light blinked at the top of the cylinder just as a glowing substance began to fill the plastic tubing. It was thick and slow moving like raw honey, but the color reminded Levi of an ocean or lake reflecting sunlight. A glimmering cornflower blue that created its own light source. It filled the cylinder at a steady pace, creeping along the measuring lines printed on the side until it was three-quarters full.
The technician gave him the ok to stop and expertly reversed the process of removing the invasive tools from Erwin’s chest.
“How are you feeling?” she asked again after cleaning the site and placing a gauze pad to stop the bleeding.
“I’m doing fine,” he replied curtly, slipping the shirt over his head, down his generous shoulders and brawny upper arms. Levi had the faint reminder of their spar sessions and what sort of strength was packed in those muscles. The guy was packing, no denying that. Too bad he couldn't allow himself to appreciate it more.
“Glad to hear it.” She worked methodically, rolling the chair and tray to the work desk. She peeled the gloves off, washed her hands in the sink, and toweled them off as she continued. “Do you have a preference for what binding symbol you’d like me to apply? Viking runes, sigils, glyphs, Greek?”
Levi bit the inside of his cheek when she directed the question only to Erwin. He knew his opinion didn’t matter to her, but it was still salt in the wound. At least, they already discussed this beforehand, and they’d come to their own agreement. Seeing as they were familiar with runes and sigils, Erwin gave Levi full decision on what binding symbol to get for them, trusting the hellhound to find one that would work for both their beings.
“We have a personalized one,” Erwin explained, pulling a folded paper from his pocket and handing it over. “You can review it, but I assure you it is within the protocol for bindings.”
Anita took the page with a deepening frown, examining it before spinning wordlessly to her the computer to log in. Erwin and Levi exchanged tense glances but waited until Anita pulled up a black screened database where after 8 grueling minutes, she confirmed the runes to be for Athenaeum symbolism.
“Alright, good news. These are certainly older sigils, but we can approve it,” she concluded, frown banished from her face and replaced with the plasticky smile.
With the symbols thankfully passing whatever rules dictated the proper structure of the bonds, Anita began preparing the design on the tablet: two crescent shapes, one inside the other with two diagonal lines through it. The longest of the lines had two hasty dashes across the lower section resembling the guard on a sword handle.
While Supras relationships with religions were rather loose, seeing as so many deities overlapped, the decision on binding ruins and sigils varied greatly. Given that Levi was, at his core, considered an unholy creature himself, he was keen to pick something that he knew wouldn’t have any nasty side effects with his own soul. There was a level of experimentation and risk they were taking with the bond, therefore a Hellhound (Ackerman or not) tying itself to an individual from the living realm was otherwise untested.
Erwin and Levi had toyed with the idea of making a fake sigil that would counter the strength of the bond, but many forums had warned against it. Not only did the technicians run it through a database to ensure the symbols met parameters, but hefty fines and even months in jail were possibilities if it was reported. Fraud was not a charge Erwin or Levi were interested in tacking onto their list of problems.
The rest of the appointment passed by quickly. The 5-inch stencils were made and applied, then ink was mixed with the soul energy sample, and finally she tattooed the design within 15 minutes. Erwin was exempt from needing the ink mixture for himself but when the needle punched into the pallid skin of Levi’s inner arm, he was taken aback by the color. Anita had been correct; the black ink truly did have a metallic shine to it, almost reminding him of the constellations that flickered across Erwin’s cloak. It was pretty, as much as he hated to admit it. There was a moment he questioned his own sanity seeing as the mark was practically a brand of ownership, but it didn't feel like that. Well, not entirely. Honestly, he was still struggling to come to terms with it all, internal pep-talks aside.
After the technician wrapped their arms with plastic film and cleaned her workstation, she gave each of them a bottle of water and checked their temperature and blood pressure. Pleased that everything seemed in order, aside from a comment of Levi running a little warm, she made sure they weren’t feeling any concerning dizziness, pain, or nausea. Neither had anything out of the ordinary, and Levi was feeling relieved that the process was finally done.
Minimal pain, no pointless headache over his sigil design, no unnecessary loss of control or injury to the employee. Yeah. He’d say it was successful. They could get the hell out of there and go to GSIS to convene with the team before returning to the cabin.
Or that was the plan, until the technician said she needed a demonstration of the bond’s functionality.
Levi twisted to look at Erwin, searching for confirmation that he heard right. But the man was already scowling at Anita.
“Is that necessary? You’ve confirmed the sigils are valid through your system and you’ve extracted my sample yourself. There’s no reason for it to not have worked.”
At the reminder of the biological connection now absorbing in the layers of his skin, Levi’s gaze dropped to the remaining unused glow of energy in the cylinder on the tray. The heat he felt in his arm was likely from the trauma of the tattoo gun, but the design itself was almost icy. Like dipping fingers into a near frozen lake and feeling the sting that makes one mistake that it’s almost hot. He wondered if it would abate after it healed or if he’d always feel coolness to his skin.
At the desk, the technician fidgeted in the stool and twisted a pen between her fingers. “It’s only protocol to confirm everything is functioning. We must ensure that the safety net is active before we can sign off on it and send the forms to WMC.”
Well, that was fucking fantastic. So much for that promise of not using it outside of emergencies.
But this wasn’t Erwin’s fault.
“And do you make everyone demonstrate their control after a new bond?” Erwin demanded, not even hiding the accusation in his tone.
The woman seemed bemused from the pushback, as if it was an uncommon occurrence. Given the wackos that adopted werewolves, Levi could just imagine the eagerness of clients wanting to see their new dominance in action. However, by Erwin questioning the protocol, there was a mounting fear that was poking through her resolve. He could smell the sourness from the sweat that only came from the activation of her apocrine glands. If Levi had to guess, it was the fact that she was arguing with a Reaper and was afraid of the consequences for her soul.
Sighing, Levi elbowed Erwin, unable to keep his lips from pressing in a thin line. He barely resisted pulling the stress ball out of his pocket and chucking it at the woman’s head.
“Let’s just get it over with,” he muttered, meeting the technician’s gaze. “I want to get out of here.”
The technician's fear twisted into a crystalized scowl, made entirely of disapproval. Apparently, she didn’t like the way Levi was making decisions for them when he should be playing up the ‘quiet unless spoken to’ pet. Well, tough shit, lady.
Erwin wasn’t even trying to hide his annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose and heaving a sigh. The way his jaw ticked, he was aching to say something more, but refrained for the sake of not escalating the situation.
Despite Levi’s impatience to power through the demonstration, it didn’t mean he wasn’t scared shitless. He hadn’t realized just how much he trusted the reaper to keep his word until now, and it was a miracle he wasn’t trembling in uncertainty. His will had always been his own. It was the one untouchable thing that Tybur could herd toward certain reactions but never orchestrate in its entirety. Which was probably why Levi’s sins weighed so heavily on him. There was always a certain amount that was his decision at the end of the day no matter what cruel acts he performed. Always a splinter of him that gave in to whatever Tybur wanted on his own volition.
As far as he was concerned, encouraging Erwin to order him with whatever command he wanted was just another version of that. Voluntarily allow some control to someone else.
“It’ll need to be from this list,” Anita handed over a page from beneath the keyboard, sending a sharp glimpse at Levi. “To make sure it’s not feigned.”
Levi didn’t care much for the sound of it. Judging by Erwin’s appalled then livid reaction, he suspected he was right. It wasn’t good.
“I’m not using these—”
“I-in the event that the public’s safety is at risk, you’ll need to be prepared to do so. You’re liable if he injuries anyone when you have the means to stop it.”
“I understand that, but this is degrading.”
“I-I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Smith. But it’s part of the p-process.”
Hell and damnation, Levi was getting tired of listening to processes.
“Erwin.”
The reaper snapped his eyes to Levi who tried to put everything he could behind his gaze. He hoped by using the man's name it would get the point across. As much as he appreciated Erwin for standing up for their principles, hovering like some integrity poltergeist, the only thing it was succeeding in was dragging out the inevitable.
“It’s alright.” I can handle it.
Erwin shut his eyes and took a deep breath, but before opening them, he asked the technician. “How many do I need to say?”
There was another judgmental look aimed at Levi. “... A minimum of three. You can choose whichever on the list.”
Opening his eyes, he stared at the paper, eyes bouncing down the lines. Levi wasn’t sure what the words were on the page, part of him didn’t want to know, particularly when the next second that their gazes met, Erwin’s was full of reluctance and regret.
“Down.”
Immediately, there was a weakened tingling sensation seeping through his legs as if they wanted to buckle. The feeling was off-putting, like thousands of ants marching over each other in the tunnels of his veins. It was a strange feeling, not dissimilar to his calves falling asleep, but there was no other demand for control that fought his will. Nothing that indicated he had no choice. With a delayed realization that there wouldn’t be any more force behind it, Levi let his knees fall on their own accord to the floor, if only to make it appear as if it was by Erwin’s command.
Did something not work? Was the bond malfunctioning? He wanted to find joy in it, but the nagging voice in the back of his head warned this could actually be bad.
“Try more force behind the words,” Anita advised, not taking her eyes off Levi. “It should’ve responded faster.”
Alright, fucking cow. Calm down.
Erwin’s frustrations were clearly written across his face, but he didn’t respond to her. Where the sigil was branded on Levi’s inner left arm, he felt the flaming sensation increase in temperature, itching like there were worms under his skin. He tried to ignore it as the paper in Erwin’s fist began to wrinkle while he prepared for the next word.
“Heel.”
The ants multiplied in his appendages, prickling and gnawing but any further compulsion lacked force. Swallowing bile at the demeaning situation, Levi forced himself to his hands and—with his infuriated gaze on the floor—crawled to place himself beside Erwin’s left leg.
Devils, this was fucking humiliating. It was like he was back at Tybur’s awful dinner parties again, being paraded around like his exotic beast, drugged, muzzled, and leashed.
Be a good mongrel and heel, you stubborn cur.
“More force,” Anita reminded.
Levi’s breathing began to labor, from fear or shame or frustrations—he didn’t know. But his heart was racing, and he just wanted to leave and get the insects out of him. Was that part of the bond? Would it go away, or would he be driven mad until he was clawing his skin off to rid himself of the foreign sensation?
Snarl at me again and I’ll filet your ribs, sew the skin back, and poor maggots in your wound. See how you like being eaten alive by tiny mouths.
Shut up! No-fuck! Were these bad side effects? Did he pick the wrong binding sigil?
His growing panic was whitewashed by Erwin snapping at the technician, hand slapping the paper by his side.
“He’s following the commands, is he not?”
“Yes, but it’s too slow. If it was attacking someone and you needed to command him, then its response must be immediate. If you aren’t firm, there’ll be a delay like we see now.”
“Obviously, the bond is working—he’s listening. I have no desire to continue with these pointless exercises!”
Anita stood up, hands placating as she battled with controlling the situation and not angering the reaper further for her own self-preservation. Levi couldn’t hear much else of what was happening as his lungs heaved and his throat felt like a raw nerve. He was starting to spiral completely now; vision turning splotchy, --on your knees, sweet boy-- the revolting muscle memory of stress positions, the ache in his gums urging him to shift, to bite into any nearby threat...
“Please, Mr. Smith. You need to do one more before I can sign off on the forms, or WMC will call you in for a hearing. You’ll be reprimanded.”
“One more? Really. You’re going hold that over our heads because I won’t order him one more time? Fine.” The paper crumbled into a ball. “Levi, get up. We’re leaving... Levi? Levi!”
He was vaguely aware of Erwin calling his name. Of hands bracing against his cheeks and pushing him up to his knees.
“Levi—you’re having a panic attack. I need you to take deep breaths.”
He could see Erwin. Could hear him. But it was as if a veil was blocking the real world from penetrating his mind. Images of Tybur grinning down at him. Forcing him to lick his only source of water in days off the ground by his shoes while dinner guests mocked him. He could hear their laughter chasing Erwin’s voice.
“Slow breaths. I need you to slow your mind down. Stay with me. I need you to relax. Try to relax, Levi. Slow down.”
The ants began to die. The worms shriveled. The sigil continued to feel like an icepick pressing against his arm, but that was far from the strangest sensation taking over. While Levi’s inhales were gasped and quick, the exhales became slower and deeper. With heavy eyelids, his limbs suddenly weighed far too much to be organic, and there must have been a hole in his skull somewhere because the thoughts were leaking out, leaving his mind empty. Maybe it was the worms. Maybe they worked at the calcium and the ants carried off the pieces of his skull so his memories could tumble out. He couldn’t lift his arms to keep them in. Didn’t know if he wanted to.
Levi felt like he was sinking. Aside from fingers carding through his hair, everything was slowing down around him as if he was floating on an abandoned lake far from civilization, surrounded by dense fog that blocked out the sky and shore. Faintly, he realized his forehead was planted against Erwin’s clavicle, where the faint smell of antiseptic and blood permeated from his shirt.
“Oh my god... That's amazing. This is really good news,” a female voice spoke somewhere in the room. Or Levi knew it was in a room. He didn’t know how he was certain exactly. It felt like he was straddling two realities. If he closed his eyes, the voice could very well be floating from the shoreline.
“What are you talking about?” Erwin snapped, arms wrapping around Levi to keep him pressed against him, tucking him closer to his neck. “It’s good news that he just had a panic attack?”
“No-no, sorry! That was insensitive. I mean... Y-you put him in a subspace.”
“A what?”
“Subspace... um. It’s like a dissociative episode but more trance-like and relaxing. I’ve heard that reapers and vampires are able to trigger it through the bond, but it usually takes a lot of practice.”
“Dissociative? I don’t want—That’s not--...”
The man sounded alarmed, almost panicked even. It nudged at Levi's mind, trying to get something protective to stir and react, but any chance of moving on his own was impossible. He just wanted to tell Erwin it was alright. Levi could feel himself being lifted into Erwin’s arms, then he was being adjusted so his head was supported against the reaper’s shoulder. It was strange feeling so limp. Devils, he hoped the ants didn’t eat his skeleton.
“We’re leaving. I expect those forms to be submitted to WMC without delay.”
“Uh—certainly. But are you sure you don’t want further assistance? If you end up having any issues with the bond or anythi—”
“We're done.”
Erwin sounded so pissed, now. But not at him. He didn’t do anything, right? The warmth was nice. Being carried wasn’t so bad... Why was Erwin upset? Where were they going?
Time passed strangely until Levi felt himself resurfacing at an agonizing pace. The thumps of the ancient windshield wipers and pattering of rain on the metal roof were the first things that he was able to latch onto; like a fisherman pulling up a net, he tried to use it to resurface. The second realization was that he was lying down, with a strap digging across his hip uncomfortably while his head rested on a bundle of fabric. Blinking helped clear away the cotton as he took a deep breath through his nose and his vision gradually sharpened into focus.
“Hey,” Erwin said gently, voice low when he realized Levi was awake. “Are you coming back to me?”
The grim was curled across the bench seat of the pick-up with Erwin’s jacket blanketed over him. The comforting caresses at his scalp could only be from Erwin’s hand and Levi was not willing to risk too much movement and have it stop.
“The fuck happened?” His words bumped into one another before he swallowed nothing but sand. Damp strands of hair from the rain tickled his nose and temples, and he could see that Erwin’s blazer was properly soaked. The idiot must have given his coat to Levi when they left the clinic.
“Uh...” Erwin’s hand sadly retracted from Levi so he could turn off the street toward a local mom and pop deli store. Parking the truck, he left it running as he shifted in his seat to help Levi sit up. “You had a panic attack at the clinic,” he explained with no small amount of guilt. “I tried to calm you down like I’ve done before, but it seems the bond had stronger... side effects than anticipated.”
Levi tried not to miss Erwin’s hand; tried not to think about how calming the simple touch was. The shame that accompanied Levi after his anxiety attacks was already hooked within his gut, molded to the familiar setting. The only thing that didn’t have his mood plummeting with anxiety and embarrassment was because his brain felt too slow to recognize what happened.
“What sort of side effects?”
“I... it put you into a sort of subspace. A mental dream-state where you shut down.”
Oh.
Furrowing his brows, he tried to recall what had happened up to losing his awareness, but he couldn’t understand why the bond decided to work for that of all things.
“The other commands,” Levi started slowly, really wishing for a damn drink, “they didn’t work. I mean, I felt weird sensations like it wanted to make my limbs do what you said, but it never came down to me even resisting.”
Erwin appeared confused by that. “At all? It didn’t compel you?”
Levi shook his head, feeling the last of the fog dissipate. “If anything, it was like a strong suggestion, but I thought something was wrong with the sigil at first.”
“Interesting. When I was getting you to relax, I hadn’t demanded it like I did with the other terms. Anita said that she’s only seen reapers and vampires manage subspace with their wolvens. I’ve already reached out to Hange who said she’ll look into it and tell us what she finds when we get to the office.” He paused and held Levi’s gaze. “Are you still up for that? Going to GSIS or do I need to call Shadis?”
“No,” Levi scoffed though even he could tell it lacked conviction. “I’m fine. Just, I guess, confused is all.” That was a bit of an understatement. He felt unmoored. But he couldn’t tell Erwin that. They had too much to do and frankly, he was not in the headspace to examine what just occurred. He needed a distraction. “We can still go. I’d rather get him off our backs about it already.”
Erwin nodded, mulling over some deep internal thought that had him troubled before he blurted out, “I’m sorry about the demonstration. I hadn’t known they’d require testing it before finalizing the appointment--and I really should’ve considered it. That was an inexcusable oversight on my part.”
Yeah. Not only Erwin’s oversight.
Levi suppressed a chill with how easily his memories had resurfaced.
“Just... don’t make it a habit, would you? We couldn’t get around it today, but I’ll be pissed if you try it any other time. Might take your arm off, if you want my honest opinion.”
Despite the tense circumstances, Erwin chuckled dryly. “If I do that again, I’ll hold my arm in place for you to take off.”
“I’ll keep you to it.”
“Hmm.” Erwin faced the front of the vehicle to look at the building. “Feel up for some lunch before we sit in on the case briefing?”
Levi considered it, but couldn’t shake the residue that clung to his stomach walls. Truthfully, he lost his appetite after his involuntary trip down nightmare lane. “Not that hungry.”
Erwin deflated slightly but didn’t push. “Well, I can run in and get us something and that way you have it for when you do get hungry.”
That was a sound compromise. He already knew Erwin was firmly against Levi skipping any meals since the incident in the woods. While he appreciated the caution to mitigate a repeat, Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that the focus was misplaced.
***
Despite being honest that he wasn’t hungry, even after the aroma of food ballooned in the cab, Levi was at least willing to accept the strawberry milkshake from Erwin. While the reaper ate in the parked truck, they decided to void their earlier boundary and pulled up various demonstration videos of wolvens with fresh bonds. Some were from the handler’s perspective while others were vlogs from the wolven themselves speaking on their involvement.
It seemed that what Levi experienced with the invasive tingling was not a normal reaction. Resisting demands varied from no pain with the body obeying instantly to deep hot pain until the person obeyed. As for the subspace, they found many forums asking how to reach that with their wolvens, but otherwise there weren’t any immediate information. It was something Erwin was going to research further when they had the time.
With nothing else to occupy them, and a team waiting for their arrival, Erwin drove them to GSIS where they hurried to the Director’s office to report the bond. When they were granted entry, they found they interrupted a meeting between Shadis and Pixis, though they didn’t stop their discussion when Erwin and Levi squeezed inside. Instead, Shadis motioned them to wait while they finished up, ignoring the way Levi stiffened and smothered Erwin’s jacket sleeve that the grim was still wearing over his nose.
The scent of Pixis’ vampire wife clung to him beneath his cologne. It didn’t matter that the old man was human. Too many times, Levi was presented with harmless mortals that reeked of the floral and iron smell from hemovores, enticing him to attack them. The scent was the scent; didn't matter who it was on.
“... and seeing as there’s no clear link between the missing persons and your investigation, I figured I’d let you know,” Pixis explained to Shadis. “That’s six different reports in the last two months. While none may show up as a victim for your cases, it’ll be worth keeping an ear to the ground in the event there’s a connection.”
Troubled by the discussion, Shadis asked, “And you’ve not had any of the missing persons turn up recently?”
“Aside from a runaway or drunken weekend out, not even body parts. Three of the reported missing people have ended up as victims of the Cascade Butcher. These new names we’ve received may be separate, but it doesn’t hurt to anticipate another murder scene soon.”
“Have you discovered any information about the individual you mentioned a few weeks ago? I know you were strongly suspecting she could’ve turned up in our C.B. investigation.”
Pixis shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s been too long since she’s been missing to have much hope for her. With the number of these missing reports, I feel we may have another serial killer, but until we get some evidence of disposal, we’re stuck in place. For all we know, it’s a terrible series of coincidences or, heaven forbid, human trafficking.”
“Are you suspecting trafficking because she was believed to have been abducted from a dating site?”
“Makes sense, don’t you agree? Bold for someone to use it as their hunting grounds, but smart if it is trafficking. Practically a catalogue.” Pixis asked, then draped an elbow over the back of his chair, fixing Erwin and Levi with an upward turn of his wiry mustache. “Good to see you, Smith. Is this your wolven you’ve been giving Shadis grief over?”
Erwin stepped deeper into the room, shaking the seated human’s hand and ignoring the Director’s scowl. “This is Levi. He’s going to be working on the case with the team for the time being.”
Pixis leaned around Erwin to peer at Levi, offering a lazy salute. “Pleasure to meet you, son. You’re in good hands with Smith here. Just don’t pick up his habits to tick off the Director and you’ll have an easy time with the agency.”
Shadis cut into the conversation with little finesse. “Did you get the bond completed?”
Erwin shrugged out of his blazer to reveal the wrapped sigil on his arm. With a tilted chin toward Levi, he repeated the motion and showed his matching design, though he remained near the door. He didn’t trust himself to get any closer to Pixis, and thankfully the human didn’t find the distance rude. Erwin had mentioned the Police Chief was open-minded with Supras and more understanding than most.
“Very well. I’ll finalize the paperwork,” Shadis nodded. “Is there anything else you have to report?”
“No,” Erwin answered, equally ready to get out of the other’s presence while sliding into his suit jacket. “If there’s no other concerns you have, we’ll meet with the team and get caught up on the investigation.”
“Yes, please do. And make sure,” Shadis pointed the end of his pen at Levi though kept his gaze on Erwin, “that he keeps to tasks within his position’s parameters. I don’t want him involved in anything that violates his current security clearance.”
“Understood.”
***
How’re you holding up?
Levi read the message beneath the table and glanced across the bullpen to see Hange’s gaze waiting. He was situated at the far end of the room while the team caught them up on the investigation, but truthfully, he wasn’t paying attention. There was little involvement allowed on his part and if Erwin wanted his opinion outside of what was authorized, he usually discussed it at the cabin.
Typing out a response, he sent it to Hange who didn’t bother hiding the fact she was texting while Nanaba spoke to the group. As he waited for her to reply, he brought Erwin’s coat sleeve his nose again, trying to get the lingering vampire scent from his nose. It was a waste of effort when Hange was in the room, but Erwin’s subtle cologne and laundry detergent soothed his raw nerves after his earlier anxiety attack. He didn’t even care if Mike and Eren noticed him doing it. If they had any snide remark to say, they could fuck right off.
“So, we’re officially treating it as the Cascade Butcher victim.” Erwin was sat beside him, angled to face the head of the table. “How’s PR handling it?”
“Not my hooker, not my brothel,” Nanaba waved off. “I’m leaving all of that to Shadis’ capable hands.”
Mike scoffed. “A dog’s breakfast, if I’ve ever heard one.”
Erwin started to say something more, but Levi turned his attention to the vibration of his phone.
Four-eyes >
I didn’t find much on why the bond isn’t working correctly. There’s been some instances where the method was incompatible with the species it was applied between. In those cases, they had to go back and try another method for it to take.
Do you think it’s because of your HH status?
Levi had already considered him being a Grim to be a cause for potential problems, which was the entire point of the personalized sigil rather than choosing from the generic runes the clinic usually applied. A shrivel of hope refused to die with the thought that maybe this was all good news. That by the bond not taking meant they could play the game, while he didn’t have to lose more of his precious autonomy.
Sadly, nothing in life was ever that simple, though. Bad luck came too easy for him. And the fact that Erwin was easily able to put him into that trance-like state was... concerning.
Just thinking about it again made his skin itch and blood run a little louder in his ears, creating a rotgut cocktail kicking his insides around. Being in such a vulnerable state was only ever achieved when he was heavily drugged, but Erwin did it with a few harmless words. If Erwin was a lesser man...
Levi pushed those thoughts away.
“If we’re officially labelling this as the reopened C.B. case, I think it’s worth following up on your suspicions, Erwin,” Nanaba announced as she took a seat with the team. “Is there anything we can subtly look into regarding Tybur that won’t bite us in the ass?”
“Legally speaking,” Jean added unnecessarily.
Erwin sent him a strange look that didn’t escape Levi’s knowledge, but the older reaper didn’t address him directly.
“Unlike the previous victims, Hannes was killed at the scene. The others were killed at an abandoned gas station and then delivered to a chosen setting.”
Eren was scowling darkly at the table, rocking the chair on its back legs to expel his restless energy.
Nanaba hummed. “With Eric and his college associates already guilty for their hand in it, we can safely assume there’s more people involved. For all we know, Grice may not be the only coven member enlisting proxies to these murders. They could’ve branched out with multiple groups of people.”
“Can we assume the coven would stick with enlisting humans?” Mike asked.
Erwin turned to Levi; a clear indication it was time for his involvement.
“... I don’t know all the details of your case, so take what I say with a grain of salt,” Levi preceded, “But, if Tybur is gathering humans to participate in the killings, it’s only because he views them as expendable. He’d never follow through with promises of turning them.”
“But Grice was human before,” Eren countered. “He was turned and accepted in the coven.”
“I don’t know who he is,” Levi shrugged. “But if that’s the case he was special enough to be an exception. Or a favor for another coven member. All I’m saying is Tybur views humans, and most wolvens, below that of vampires and reapers. Any humans that are enlisted are chosen to meet his goal and that’s it. He doesn’t have a criterion for them to meet, so narrowing it down to potential students would be a waste of your time.”
Erwin was the next to speak, “While there is a chance for a network of underground human associates, I don’t subscribe to the idea just yet. If they had a larger group, they would’ve been involved with Eric and the others since the beginning. But instead, it was the three students who happened to attend the same club for various reasons. I suspect the coven is working to find replacements if they haven’t done so already. For all we know, they could be conducting the murders themselves. We already suspect a wolven to be involved this time.”
The chair slammed onto all four legs as Eren leaned on the table and directed his question to the grim. “Hey, does Tybur have wolvens that're part of his coven? Like actually a part of it?”
Levi didn’t have to think very long. “Not members. Not in rank or anything of the sort. He had staff and others that were like me. Prisoners. Pets. Some were subservient enough to follow any order he gave, so I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them is involved in your murder case.”
“Do you have their names?”
“First names only. But those are the ones that were usually kept with me in the cells. It won’t be much help seeing as I’m certain none are documented citizens either. At least, not here. I know one was from Denmark.”
Jean pulled out a notebook and slid it to Levi. “Any names you remember would help.”
Despite feeling it was a wasted effort, Levi accepted the pad and pen to write them down. Meanwhile, Erwin asked him another question.
“What about Tybur’s common haunts or properties? Do you have any knowledge of those?”
The pen froze on the third name, and Levi had to bite his tongue to not immediately call Erwin an idiot. If he knew where Tybur would be, he would’ve already run off to kill him instead of playing this pet charade with WMC. But before he could reform his ire into a more acceptable delivery, he realized that it wasn’t an invalid question after all.
Pen and notebook forgotten on the table, Levi sat up and allowed his gaze to circle the faces in the room while he gathered his thoughts.
“I know he has an office in one of the local cities. Don’t ask me where, I’ve only heard him, or others talk about it. Usually, he’d hold his meetings there with people who had silver spoons up their asses, but weren't in his close circle.”
Nanaba nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been to his office when we tried to interview him originally. I’m sure it’s the same one.”
Erwin followed up with another inquiry, “What was Tybur’s trade with Sannes? The one they had to resort to a proxy fight to settle.”
Levi shrugged. “I think it was something with his maritime properties. He’s been working to expand his company.”
“Tiburon Logistics,” Erwin supplied. “I believe I read that his shipping company has started to set roots in the Seattle/Tacoma ports.”
Levi really hadn’t wanted to revisit his memories of the humiliating dinner parties—especially twice in one day. He swallowed to gather his nerve, feeling as if shards of ice were grating down his throat as he did his best to compartmentalize the facts from emotions. If those EMDR treatments were going to help, now was a good time to test it.
“I remember he moved us somewhere new to establish his foothold in another port. I want to say we transferred to different locations a few times, but I can’t really say where. Southern Louisiana was the last place I know for sure.”
He recalled being roughly hauled from the transport van after a fight, half-drugged out of his mind. The injuries he sustained were enough for his handlers to get complacent, which had given him a window to break free and escape. He could still recall the shrill chittering of cicadas in the trees, the sticky muck from the nearby swamp he treaded through, the soupy humid air weighing on his lungs, and the hiss of allegators in the waters. The rewarded freedom lasted 12 hours. Well into the night where he was able to heal enough to shift, but that had given the coven time to rally a formidable search party for the wayward grim.
Tybur made sure Levi wouldn’t get any further ideas for escaping after that. He could still feel the ghostly ache in his kneecaps; remembered what they looked like spliced from his body and hanging against his shins--
“I only knew we were somewhere else between the short trips to the vehicles," he choked out quickly. "The environment felt hot but not humid. Almost dry air. Always sunny.”
“Hmm,” Hange unlocked her phone and typed something in before addressing everyone. “Tiburon company has business in the Ports of Houston and Los Angeles. He’s capitalizing in all areas of the States with major trades around the world.”
Erwin scowled in thought, “So, he’s ensuring the growth continues to match the revenue and outsourcing at the biggest marinas of the country. But if he’s so successful and expanding, then why risk it all for the murders?”
“Also, what does a mogul like Willy Tybur ship?” Jean asked.
Levi forced his mind to circle back to the dinner conversations with Tybur’s closest circle. “Iron ore, petroleum, wood pulp. For his special clients, he’ll send a ship out with artifacts, expensive art, or rare cars.”
“Legally?”
“Can’t say for sure. What I’ve overheard didn’t always sound like it. Particularly the favors like artifacts and such. They were fussy over the Bill of Lading.”
“Wait,” Eren held up a hand suddenly, halting the conversation. “Is Tybur some sort of art thief?”
Levi couldn’t help but snort. “No. That asshole would never exert himself like that, I know that much. But he did employ shady people and... I have reason to believe he benefitted from a certain group of Europeans hoarding stolen pieces throughout history.”
“Don’t tell me the guy has claws in Nazi treasure.”
Levi shrugged while Hange let out a barked laugh.
“Seriously? This guy is just checking off all sorts of super villain boxes.”
Mike shook his head, “Doesn’t do us any good unless we can prove any of this.”
An unsettling pause wavered in the room, each one realizing just how tied their hands were if their suspicions were correct. It was a powerless feeling no one liked, especially as an Agent meant to stop such acts. Eventually, Erwin spoke up, breaking the lull.
“Tybur is over 1200 years old, and his family has been around longer. One of the oldest covens in existence still around today. The man was born only 200 years after Rome fell, so I’d say his proclivities dabble in the questionable or corrupt. He isn’t one to embrace new ideas and shed old habits. And he wouldn’t have lasted this long with his extracurriculars if he was sloppy.”
“Which is the problem,” Mike concurred. “None of this is enough for a warrant on the guy. We don’t even have enough evidence for probable cause.”
When Erwin directed his attention to Levi, he twisted in his seat as if he was addressing only the grim. Technically, that was true as it was a specific question, but the intensity was like a magnetic pull, keeping Levi’s gaze anchored. It was times like these that Levi felt Erwin operated on a different level than the others in the room. Zeroed in and focused like the approaching storm on the horizon.
“Are there any illegal affairs he was in that you know for certain?... Perhaps, narcotics? Weapon smuggling? Trafficking?”
Aside from murdering people for his art and dinner parties? Sending rival captives to their deaths via his cage? Feeding him humans to further deteriorate Levi’s tattered humanity?
Sure.
Levi could probably list all of that and more right here and now. Spill it onto the table for the team to analyze and dissect and then send him back to the basement until his euthanasia date. His past would consume their pretty crime scene photos like an oil spill, choking out their chances of getting further in the case because Levi would be outing his own involvement.
Sounded freaken perfect, right?
As much as he wanted to believe Erwin had his back and would try to prevent him from being arrested, they’d already experienced various levels of the agency and government working against them to follow regulations. They wouldn’t suddenly bow out Erwin’s way if he resisted handing Levi over. And that was still a big IF scenario. Erwin was already panicked that Levi could harm an innocent person because of his trauma. Who's to say the man wouldn’t step aside and let them take Levi away without uttering a word?
But considering the team was trying to give a serious look into Tybur, Levi couldn’t exactly pass up on the opportunity for allies. Even if his goal wasn’t to arrest the vampire, it was bound to cause the coven headache while Levi prepared to make his move. Not only that, but Erwin’s inquiry seemed closer to the mark than Levi initially thought.
Carefully, he chose his words, being mindful to not outwardly indict himself, “I know he’s killed plenty, but I wouldn’t be able to give you names. He... goes after people that won’t be missed.” Levi didn’t shy from Erwin’s gaze, but stared back, memorizing the collagen fibers of his iris. Like cirrus clouds after the sky breaks at dusk. “Runaways. Poor. Streetworkers. I know he’s given some of them to his close friends, but as for the scale of trafficking, I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t even tell you if he ships them overseas.”
There wasn’t any judgement reflecting from the Reaper’s attention. He listened. Attentive. Almost too much as if he was processing what Levi was saying but also harbored unspoken intentions for something else. Perhaps building for another question or connecting dots between hypotheses.
His straw blond hair got darker when it was wet.
Strange thing to take note of, but he noticed it the last few times the rain did a number on it. It’d fall thickly over Erwin’s temple and out of its neat hold, having to be swept to the side or back by fingers rather than a comb.
“So,” Hange’s voice abruptly reminded Levi that there were others in the room, and he was staring too hard at Erwin. Thankfully, he suppressed a flinch. “Tybur seems to be keeping some traditions alive. I shouldn’t be shocked but I am.”
“What traditions?” Eren asked.
“The sort of sharing spoils that they’d taken. Usually, for events, business transactions, or other important milestones, the host would capture a vessel and gift it to the other as a sign of good faith. Used to happen all the time before the Treaty, which was supposed to put an end to that still occuring.”
Excruciating guilt and aged anger yawned in his stomach, stirring and waking from the memory of Izzy in that exact situation. He tried to hide his darkening thoughts and subpress the snarl trying to curl. Glaring at the table was the best shield he had to avoid his obvious anger, fearing that if anyone looked too closely at his body language, more questions would follow on the topic.
Of course, nothing got by the reaper at his side, who sensed his mood shift. With subtle, but clear intentions, the man pressed his leg against Levi, shoe to shoe. Knee-to-knee. The contact allowed for an exchange of heat through the fabric and Levi hadn’t realized his leg was jittery until he was up against the steady muscle of Erwin.
“If he’s keeping true to tradition,” Erwin directed the conversation to the group, giving Levi a break, “perhaps, he’s not sending the victims overseas, but rather to another port.”
The room waited for him to continue, which he did without fault.
“I’ve been tracking Tybur through the news and he’s currently meeting with an Alaskan District Representative. Worth mentioning the Rep is a hemovore, and as we already know, human populations are low in Alaska. It’s common for the local vampire populace to rely on imported blood bags rather than the real sources. Given what Levi’s told us, I’m wondering if the conditions are right for Tybur to generously offer reprieve from the diet. He may even send some well wishes home...”
Levi crossed his arms and dug his fingernails into his biceps while the team let that sink in. Nanaba was the first to speak, full of gritty determination that Levi couldn’t help but respect.
“How long will he be here?”
“Until Tuesday.”
“That gives us time to investigate any forecasted shipments leaving under Tiburon within the week.”
“We can work on that today,” Mike volunteered, tossing a thumb at Jean. “If we’re lucky, may have something that’ll give us enough reason for probable cause search.”
“That’s a start. A good start.” She turned to Levi and offered a candied smile. “Thanks, Levi. We’ll see what we can find from here.”
***
There was no grace in Erwin’s battle with the slippery dumpling. The chopsticks would repeatedly embrace the edges, get centimeters above the liquid, and then slip back into the broth. Erwin would try again, never one to give up; even going so far as to lean closer as if the distance was the problem and not technique. It was fascinating to watch. A bit concerning, but nonetheless fascinating.
Levi picked at his spicy Cheung fun, having selfishly claimed the entire serving for himself. Not that there was a fight over the steamed rice rolls when Erwin couldn’t handle the mildest heat, and was too busy exhibiting that tunnel vision with the dumpling.
“Your palette is weak if it can’t handle a rice noodle,” Levi taunted for the sake of it.
“It’s not the—” the dumpling slipped free once again. “It’s not the noodle. It’s whatever that sauce is.”
“There’s nothing spicy about it.”
The deadpanned gaze aimed at Levi clearly said otherwise. “I literally watched you sprinkle red chili flakes on it.”
“Exactly. Wasn’t hot enough.”
Erwin shook his head, going back to his epic montage with the chicken dumpling. “Must be a hellhound thing. Mike and Eren can’t handle spice either. Makes their eyes water and nose runny.”
“I don’t want to hear about their wolfish snot while I’m eating.”
The man chuckled, then they fell back into a comfortable silence that predictably didn’t last with the reapers mumbled curses. After Erwin managed to get the piece into his mouth, Levi decided to broach a subject that had been on his mind all day.
“There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Perking up before he could select another opponent, Erwin fixed him a look of unhindered intrigue, cheeks puffed out from the dumpling. It wasn’t common for Levi to initiate conversations, so he hastily swallowed it and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Oh? What’s on your mind?”
“It’s about earlier. The clinic and bond.”
Frown trying to form, Erwin sat up to give Levi his full attention, clearly unsettled by the events. “If this is about what I did, I intend to make it up to you—”
“No, stop that. It isn’t about what you had to do.”
“I appreciate your willingness to wave it off, but I do feel terrible about—”
“Will you drop it? I told you it’s fine. Hell, I even told you to do what she said. Seriously, I’m not holding it against you.”
Erwin’s frown deepened into a pout, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “You’re belligerent even with an apology.”
Levi chose to ignore it. “We’ve already established I’m a person from the Netherworld, thus the sigil and all that,” Levi reeled in, trying to keep the reaper on subject. “But I haven’t been entirely upfront about everything either. Hange was right when she figured out that Hellhounds are known to have some reptilian traits, but my... abilities are a bit different than the average Grim. I think that might be the reason why the bond isn’t working like it should.”
Sensing the severity of the situation, plus the couple of weeks taming his curiosity, Erwin knew to wait for Levi to continue when he was ready. It was nice to not be bullied into answers.
“The heating trick isn’t normal for Grims.”
“The one with the muzzle?”
“Yeah.”
“... And. Did that have something to do with the wolven you were fighting against in the ring? The burn marks with the bite?”
“Yeah. It’s... It’s hard to explain. I don’t have many answers for it, though my uncle had his suspicions that it was linked to my father.”
It was the first time Levi had actively spoken about his family to Erwin aside for tiny tidbits sprinkled here and there. He was sure the questions were banging around between Erwin's molars, trying to escape.
“My mum was a hellhound, my father a half-demon. As you can imagine, it’s not a common relationship.”
“Demon? Wait, so that--I... Does that mean...” The man stumbled over his words before sighing in resignation. “I have a lot of questions.”
Levi rolled his eyes with a scoff.
“Really? Couldn’t tell." He took a sip of his tea, letting a few seconds pass before relenting. "What are they, Blondie? I'll try to answer them.”
“Did they meet in the Netherworld?” he fired off immediately.
“No. Here. Well, in Ireland.”
“I’m familiar with conjuration for demons into our world through rituals, but I’ve never come across one. Do they inhabit this realm or are they immediately sent back?”
“That depends. Grims are used because we aren’t affected by travelling to and from the Netherworld. We still require proper rituals to create the doorway, but it doesn’t take away from our energy. Demons, on the other hand, are severely weakened when passing through. Despite what people here think, they don’t like crossing realms to collect souls. It’s less risk on them if people reach through the portal and make an offering to a demon through the evocation rather than a full summon.”
“But if they are here, how does that work?”
“The summoner could send them back if they created the portal as a two-way. Most don’t do that, thinking it’s automatically a normal door they can close after the conjuration. What they find out is that the demon is stuck here and can run free if the seal didn’t have proper containment runes. As you can imagine, the process is messy and prone to a lot of error. Some demons can find a human to send them back, but they run the risk of returning in a weakened state—meaning they’re susceptible to attacks from stronger entities in the Netherworld.”
“Ah... I’m seeing the drawback now.”
“Staying in the living realm isn’t exactly an option either. They aren’t meant to survive here. If they’re lucky, they can come across humans that will sell their souls to them, but they can’t eat them until the transaction has been met. A lot of humans want things that'll take years to accomplish, in which the demon deteriorates further in lifeforce and power. They end up dying more times than not. The demon that had my father died a year after his birth.”
“So, half-demons can live here then. Do they still have trouble with existing or is the human half enough to sustain them?”
“As far as I know, he lived a normal life. He could see ghosts and omens, but was still able to go to church. Mum said he was Catholic,” he huffed a breathy laugh, “Fucking crazy. But he lived a normal life until he was killed.”
“And you’re able to exert fire into bites?”
Levi’s sliver of amusement fell away. Dropping his gaze to the plate, he considered his explanation, wondering if he was about to be hostage to some moral lecture for right and wrong. In the end, he decided to just come out with it.
“When I bite like that, it tends to burn away the soul. Out of existence. Completely.”
“... Are you saying—”
“No afterlife.”
A few beats passed, followed by another handful of seconds. Everything seemed to be measured by breaths as Erwin pondered the admission, coming to terms with the transparent truth of it all.
“So, if it wasn’t for the muzzle that day, and you bit me...”
Levi shrugged, but it wasn’t out of a laxed, nonchalant way. “I would think so? But I’ve never used a bite on a Reaper before. For all I know, it could backfire. Your souls are more powerful than other Supras.”
“Well, if it's all the same to you, I’d rather not find out. But as for the bond, it's unfortunately too late to do anything about it now, and I'm afraid we wouldn't have been able to prevent this even if we considered your heritage further. We took all the precautions we could with personalizing a seal to prevent complications."
"Seems like it was useless in the end," Levi lamented dryly.
"I don't think so. The bond isn't forcing you to obey me like we anticipated," Erwin argued, not at all bothered by the lack of control he was due to have over Levi. The grim didn't even think Erwin realized it, which made Levi's respect for him grow a little more.
Erwin prattled on, unawares to Levi's appreciative gaze as he fished the dumpling to the surface of the bowl. "I think if we feel it out and learn the extent of what’s active in the bond, we can avoid a repeat of accidental commands. Although, that does lead me to wonder what I can do to help you out of a potential panic attack,” Erwin said the last part quieter and more to himself, as if that was the biggest topic in the moment. He hummed in thought, then glanced at Levi, which gave him pause. “... Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re not... I don’t know. Pissed?”
“Why would I be? Are you talking about what you’re able to do?”
Levi lifted a brow as if the reaper was being stupid.
It was Erwin’s turn to scoff. “I’m not upset that I can't force you to do something. Have mercy with your opinion of me, please."
"I didn't say anything."
"No, but implying that I actually wanted control hurts my feelings. I thought I proved my stance enough by now on that," he moped teasingly.
Levi rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have agreed to it with you if I thought you'd abuse it. But I was also referring to the other thing."
Erwin took a moment to consider the unspoken subject before turning serious. "I'm not going to hold it against you because you have a unique ability that you inherited. Honestly, I find it rather impressive. It’s never come to my knowledge that souls could be obliterated like that.”
Sensing the truth, Levi stared at him thoughtfully, willing to push him a bit to see how strong he stood by that statement. “When my uncle went to the Netherworld to try learning about it, those that had heard of such acts said its unholy and taboo. Souls are everlasting entities and even Gods won’t tolerate potential followers being erased so permanently. To them, it’s robbing precious coins.”
“My moral compass must be off, because I still find it fascinating.”
“Yeah? What moral compass,” Levi snarked, earning a green onion being flicked at him.
Before they could finish the discussion, Erwin’s phone rang which he put on speaker after seeing the caller.
“Hey, boys. Sorry it’s late,” Nanaba’s voice greeted. "Hope I'm not interrupting your infamous movie nights."
Figures Hange would be the source of gossip amongst the team.
“We’re just eating dinner. What’s going on,” Erwin replied.
“I figured I’d call to update you on what Mike and Jean found today. There's a shipment from Tiburon leaving on Tuesday--interesting, right? But the cargo manifestation is saying it’s an antique instrument. I think they said grand piano or something, which will be stored in a climate-controlled shipping container. And—get this—set to leave on a ship to Alaska.”
Levi felt his heart jolt into a gallop, even though he knew this didn’t mean anything yet. Still, what were the odds?
“It’s not uncommon for antiques to need climate control. However, it is winter. They wouldn’t have to worry about heat or humidity affecting delicate wood. The cold isn’t as dangerous.”
“But for humans, it would be,” Nanaba concluded. “It’s not enough for a warrant is the only problem. That, and it’s not on Tybur’s own ship. The container is assigned to a separate company and it’s the only Conex being moved.”
“We may be able to talk to a dock inspector. Use them to our advantage as a middleman if GSIS can’t do anything.”
“They won’t open anything up unless they have their own probable cause, though.”
“They will if an anonymous tip comes in via the Olympia Police Chief. Perhaps something about rumored illegal substances in the container. The dock inspector will have to investigate and won’t risk rubber stamping it, or else they could be liable as well if something was amiss.”
Nanaba's voice picked up in tempo as she followed his line of thought. “And if there is something other than the piano in the cargo manifestation, they’d have to call us.”
“Exactly." Erwin's grin turned feral as he met Levi's gaze and suddenly the grim felt like his insides were heating up from an entirely separate thing than the chili flakes. "And while it won’t likely link anything to the Cascade Butcher case, it may force Tybur to slip up. Or reveal some things to solidify him as a legitimate suspect.”
“We just need to find any way to tie him to a motive. Fingers crossed, boys. We’ll start making calls tomorrow.”
Notes:
The plot is plotting. Levi and Erwin are starting to fall into a rhythm with each other and now they may be a bit closer than they expected. 😏
Thank you everyone for the wonderful and amazing support! This isn't my favorite chapter, but hopefully it wasn't too choppy. More Erwin and Levi soon, but have to get a bit of plot development out of the way first. Hope everyone has a great weekend!
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 23: Emergence
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
A bird was singing a fluctuating tune in a tree nearby, pitched enough to create a faint echo.
“No, that isn’t correct at all. It’s not a requirement to check the bond. The only time I’ve heard of it happening is if there’s reasonable suspicion that something wasn’t applied correctly,” Clint confirmed from the other end of the call.
He sounded generally heated and exasperated by Erwin’s recap, which was a welcome reprieve from the handful of WMC personnel they’ve dealt with thus far. Each one usually held a smugness about them that came from buying into the policies they’ve been exposed to, further enforcing the belief that shifters were just as much animal, if not more, than human. While Hugh at the shelter wasn’t as belligerent as some of the other staff affiliated with WMC, he was still blind enough to believe he was doing what was right, eating up the social imbalance in the name of order and safety.
Clint, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air.
“I wish I had known sooner, or I would’ve held firm on my refusal,” Erwin replied, sending a glance at Levi across the clearing. The grim was sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, twirling the wooden Kali stick as he waited for the call to end. While Levi wasn’t actively watching Erwin, there was no doubt that he was listening.
“What’s the technician’s name? I’ll make a note and follow up to start an investigation on them.”
“Anita. I’m not sure her last name, but I can send the address of the clinic we went to.”
“Please do. I’ll reach out as soon as I get it after this call.”
“Don’t mistake me for wanting to dissuade you, but what do you mean by investigation?”
“Oh, er... well, I’m not at liberty to say much on the matters but given what you two have been exposed with so far, I don’t see much of an issue.” His tone dropped lower, likely trying not to be overheard by any co-workers. “There’s been an influx of prejudice minded employees using their positions to enforce their personal beliefs. They’re just bullies, but you can imagine that behaviors like that can escalate. Even though we try to weed those individuals out during interviews, it doesn’t always work and in cases such as what you experienced, an investigation into the employee is conducted. We’ll reach out to others and see if this is a one-off occurrence that needs reprimand or habitual that will likely end in severe charges and being let go.”
“That’s a relief to hear,” Erwin said, genuinely impressed. “I haven’t seen much of that initiative since starting the process and was under the impression WMC chose to sweep it under the rug.”
“I’m sure some do, but there’s many of us who don’t share those opinions. My supervisor fortunately has no tolerance for that.” Clint tone returned to normal as he rounded the discussion off. “You can email me the address, and I’ll get on right on it. Your case has also been updated to reflect the bond being applied and we won’t need to see you for your quarterly meeting until February. Aside from that, do you have any other questions for me?”
“No. I think from here we’re set.”
“Perfect. Well, I apologize again for the mistreatment you and Levi were exposed to. Please give him my sympathies and know we’ll be looking into the technician. If you have any questions between now and our meeting, please don’t hesitate to reach out. Hope you have a good rest of your day.”
“Thank you, Clint. You, too.”
He ended the call and set it down on the folded jacket at the base of the tree, trading it for his flask of water.
“What happened?” Levi asked. “We don’t have to show him it works, do we?”
“Thankfully no,” Erwin put the bottle down, surprised that a residue of frustration continued to linger after the considerable good news. “Apparently, Ms. Anita wasn’t in her right to ask us to demonstrate the bond to begin with.”
“Tch.” Levi planted the end of the sparring stick in the grass and folded his hands over the top. Resting his chin against his knuckles, he commented, “Should’ve guessed. She had an attitude for a part of it and then got cold feet when you started to push back. Probably realized she fucked up but didn’t want to admit she was in the wrong.”
“I’m sure she was merely trying to make a point. Luckily, we don’t have to worry about it now. Just focus on what we’ve been doing and helping you get passed your conditioning.”
“Mhm, don’t remind me.” Levi rocked to his feet with liquid flexibility which Erwin knew he had no hope of replicating. “Ready to get back to sparring?”
Grabbing the staff leaning against the tree, he quirked a brow. “Are you? Looked awfully comfortable on the ground.”
“We’ve already established that’s where you’re best positioned, Blondie.” He twirled the sabre expertly at his side. “Should I remind you of that?”
Erwin huffed, stepping closer to the center of the clearing. “We’ve been going at it for 20 minutes before the interruption, and I’ve not once been put on the ground by you.”
“Long overdue then.”
“You’re awfully arrogant when you’re sparring, Levi.”
The man shrugged. “That’s what happens when you’re good. People mistake confidence for ego.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Yup,” he answered with another twirl.
Erwing couldn’t deny it was like watching someone do card tricks that defied the laws of physics. Levi’s fingers effortlessly controlled the speed and direction of the stick like it was a marionette, tied to his will. Practically hypnotizing.
“You know,” Levi drawled, that Irish accent setting on his tongue as he eyed Erwin with a hint of mischief. “I was thinking about your apology and how you said you still felt bad over what happened at the clinic.”
“Is that so?” Erwin had a strong feeling that whatever Levi was building up to was nothing short of blackmail.
“Wanna know what’ll cheer me up?”
“Well, seeing as you’ve repeatedly told me you were fine, I assume nothing should be bothering you to need cheering up.”
“Uh huh. Because you always take what I say at face value,” he snarked.
“That’s a little hurtful.”
“Not untrue.”
Erwin sighed, resigning to the fact there wasn’t a way around it. “Fine, enlighten me. What would cheer you up, sunshine?”
Levi scoffed at the nickname. “Some overdue hand-to-hand... Oi, don’t look at me like that.”
“We agreed we’d focus on footwork today.”
“My feet are fine.”
“So are your hands.”
“Shut up. Come one, Blondie. You that scared I’ll beat you again?”
“I don’t think I’m a good match for sparring in hand-to-hand. You would probably benefit more from someone who does it regularly and who’d offer a real challenge.”
“Yeah?” Levi deliberately ran a cursory glance around the clearing. “Anyone you recommend because I only see you here.”
“Ok, smartass. I’m talking about GSIS. Mike isn’t too bad, but I know Eren and Jean practice regularly.”
Levi crossed his arms, careful to keep the stick over his shoulder as he canted a hip. When Erwin opened his home to the hellhound, he never expected he’d be letting in a nearly 200-year-old brat. “So, you’d rather I spar with someone like Jean?”
“No.” Erwin answered much quicker than he had a right to. He suppressed a grimace after realizing his oversight. “It was just an example.”
“A suggestion.”
“Example. Besides, I think Eren would be the better choice if that was something you were interested in. From what I hear, he beats Jean more times than not.” Never mind the fact his lungs twisted at the idea of Jean and Levi practicing mixed martial arts. Specifically, Jui Jitsu. On the mats, grappling with each other and sweaty—nope. Don’t like that.
“You wanna know my opinion?” Levi asked, in which Erwin braced himself to learn exactly what the witty shifter had to say. “I think, if you’re not good in something, the only way to improve is practice.” He tossed the mock sabre near the tree with their things. “Come on, humor me here. You’ve been dragging me through shit with WMC, so let me burn some of that frustration off.”
This wasn’t looking good for Erwin. The last time they fought, he barely managed to walk away with his dignity intact.
“You’re not really selling it to me, Levi. If we’re already unevenly matched, why would I agree to be your punching bag.”
“Quit whining. You’re not that bad.”
“Oh, gee. I suddenly feel adequately prepared to fight you now. Thanks.”
“Devils be damned, are all reapers fussy like you?”
“Worse I’d imagine,” Erwin quipped though he reluctantly set the staff against the tree, picking up the discarded sabre to put alongside their things.
It was one of the few, rare moments where Erwin’s snippy attitude made an appearance for the sake of deflecting. While inevitable that he couldn’t hold off on sparring with Levi forever, he had hoped to last a few more weeks before giving in. But who was he to deny Levi’s request. He certainly earned the chance to burn through energy in a way he found sufficient. Erwin would just have to keep his mind out of the gutter and his face intact. In that order. He could admire Levi’s form and skill, but he had to draw the line at appreciating the feel of him and metaphorically drooling. None of that.
Wow, that made him sound like some perverted creep. Great. Already starting this off with a bang. Erwin sighed at his dire predicament which Levi mistook as reluctance.
“I won’t hit you too hard. I didn’t last time.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” he called out, not having left the tree. Erwin opted to take another drink of water while he mentally got his priorities sorted.
This was a fight. He’d been in countless by now and many had consisted of hand-to-hand. He wasn’t terrible at it. His technique was off form and muscle memory was out of practice, but he still tried to downplay his skills to avoid fighting Levi. Maybe, if he was lucky, he did it well enough that he could use that as an advantage, allowing Levi to underestimate him. It was worth considering and feeling out.
Once he was sure he was in the right headspace to avoid distractions, Erwin met Levi in the center of the clearing, eyeing the rejuvenated energy that was evident in the grim’s posture. His back-up plan, in case Levi did not underestimate him, was to use what he had as a natural advantage. Strength, size, experience. He wasn’t inflexible or slow despite his build, but Levi did hold the edge over him in those categories.
“Promise to go easy on me?” Erwin teased with a candy sweet smile, getting into his ready position.
They had not reached the level of pure concentration as they had the first day of sparring. Which, if Erwin was being honest, he was starting to find was a pleasurable pastime.
“Tch. If you don’t wanna get hit, then you’d better move.”
Erwin found himself stumbling backwards as Levi plunged directly into the fight, a fist sailing right at him. He blocked the strike with his arms lifting to barricade his face, though he realized his mistake in keeping his posture upright instead of curled when a brutal kick connected to his ribs. Erwin didn’t have a chance to drop his elbow and grab Levi’s leg before it was retreating and aiming into his upper thigh. Dancing to the side, he blocked another punch, but missed the front sweep of Levi’s leg to his shin while in mid step, causing the reaper to tilt forward as he lost his balance. Fortunately, he was able to scrimmage his legs back under him before he fully fell to the ground and spun with arms up to face Levi.
“See? Still getting some footwork in,” Levi unhelpfully allayed.
“You’re hilarious. I can see why you’d have the advantage given your much lower center of gravity.”
The grim’s eyes narrowed and he gave Erwin no time to prepare for the next shot forward. In a last-minute attempt to keep some distance, Erwin aimed a frontward kick at Levi who caught him by the ankle and sent a punch dead center of his chest. The force and surprise were enough for Erwin to topple backwards, landing on his backside with a spine jarring thud. Armed with a glare of his own, the reaper let out a curse towards Levi who had a filthy little smirk pulled across his lips.
“Short jokes come with a price, Blondie. Remember that.”
Regardless of Erwin’s hesitancy to enter another close combat spar with Levi, he couldn’t deny there was a layer of intensity that had adrenaline flooding like white rapids. It was dizzying and simplifying at the same time. And seeing Levi’s personality coming through the walls he built, finding that internal door to show himself to Erwin, was exhilarating. It felt like they were truly on the same page, falling in sync with each other.
It made him bold. He wanted to prove himself to Levi. To take him down and encourage more of the grim to rise to the challenge. See what boundaries could be pushed between them.
The fight returned to trading blows and feeling the other out, but Erwin knew he was going to be sporting some bruises before they reached the cabin. It was expected during any of their spars and would heal up in a day or two, thankfully. He didn’t mind going into GSIS with a few visual reminders of his oversights, though that didn’t mean he wanted to listen to Mike’s mocking.
Finding an opening, he sent an unexpected kick to Levi’s knee, returning the favor of being thrown off balance, and Erwin advanced on him. It was a similar technique he knew Levi struggled with when crowded, so the reaper used his entire body as a weapon, not allowing Levi to do anything more than rely on defensive maneuvers.
It took Levi two moves to realize Erwin’s change of strategy as he scrambled for distance which was repeatedly denied. What came next had Erwin’s stomach leaping into his throat as his feet were swept from under him, while both he and Levi tumbling to the ground. He felt his head bounce off the forest floor, tendons of his neck straining from the whiplash. Levi was kind enough to provide him with a distraction by sending an elbow toward his cheek which he ducked to the side before it connected. The grim looked much too satisfied with himself, no doubt that Erwin was again on the ground.
“Looking good, Blondie.”
He could practically feel every contour of the body upon him, not helping his earlier goal of keeping his mind clear. The weight wasn’t smothering nor was it too light that would make him hesitate in retaliating. Levi had a certain heaviness to him, unassuming muscle mass, that was heartening. “I think you’d look better on the bottom, if you want my opinion.”
Ah. Did he say that out loud? Was that too much?
Levi scoffed, good humor evident which had Erwin relaxing as soon as he tensed. “This dog doesn’t roll over so easily for anyone, Smith. Gotta work for it.”
And oh. Ok. Was Levi willing to play that game after all?
Erwin couldn’t help but swallow as he felt blood run hotter, but he was oddly focused despite that. As if it was enough to home in on the challenge Levi so eagerly threw down.
With a quick maneuver, he managed to get Levi off him for a brief second, legs straining with effort to dislodge the sticky hellhound. But once he did, he sent a hit to Levi’s flank though the grim was still able to keep them on the ground. They rolled on the floor, grappling at each other with Erwin aiming to smother Levi with his larger figure, while the feline-like opponent searched for a debilitating hold. The tumble was a blur to Erwin, all limbs coiling without a clear direction, driven by instinct, control, and need to dominate the other.
Levi managed to get to where he was in an awkward position, half squatting and half on his knees with the balls of his shoes digging in the earth. He had a guillotine hold around Erwin’s neck as he tried to overpower the shifter onto his back, but they had pushed themselves against a tree that prevented any room for steering. It worked in both their favors as Erwin had to redirect his plan before he could slip further into the hold, choosing to loop his hands at the back of Levi’s thighs. Sensing the disadvantage if Erwin managed to latch on and pick him up, Levi hastily straightened his legs out to brace against the trunk of the tree. Then, using his core and upper body against Erwin’s shoulders, he took retreating steps up the bark to get out of reach and push off, causing both to tumble to the floor again. Levi wasted no time twisting his body around before Erwin could recover, posting up on the reaper for the advantage.
Once more, Erwin found himself pinned with an elbow to his throat instead of his shoulders. His thighs were trapped beneath Levi’s knees where they dug hard enough to leave more bruises, and another pound of pressure would send the muscles into a cramp. Somehow in the flip, Erwin’s right arm got stuck under his hip while Levi held his left arm down, fingers interlaced like jaguar claws into prey. It seemed more fitting of a description rather than holding hands—easier to ignore the fluttering in his chest and endorphins swirling in his brain.
He felt almost foolish. As if he got cocky enough to think he could fight back a storm like Levi, all hurricane gusts and force of an avalanche. Any time he thought he had an upper hand, he would instantly become overwhelmed. Levi was equivalent to smoke, hovering and adapting to the softest breeze. Erwin could send hits that would stun a normal opponent, overpower anyone he knew with his scythe, but in a hands-on fight with Levi, he was hopelessly outmatched.
And he really didn’t mind it.
Instead of his pride taking a hit, he found that there was an addictive rush to it. Even more with the friendly banter and he felt a growing sense of longing for them to fall even closer. Erwin vaguely realized that Levi was waiting for him to tap out, but he fell into a rather predictable beartrap of a cliché: getting distracted by the shifter’s eyes.
So close, he drank in the details. The way they reminded him of old ashen coal with embers still breathing in the cracks; a contrast where slate met amber. The grim’s power would flex, and the fiery color expanded around his pupils, a literal window into Levi’s internal workings. What made it harder to focus was that he stared right back at Erwin, unflinching and searching for the smallest sign of surrender. And Erwin wanted to surrender. In ways that probably would be inappropriate, but that didn’t make the urge any less potent. To lean his head up and close the distance, rock his hips against the lithe frame that was already flushed so nicely against him.
“You gonna do something, Blondie?”
“... Thinking about it,” he murmured, feeling the way Levi’s arm moved with his throat as he spoke.
“Yeah? Strategizing? How’s that working for you?”
Erwin attempted a shrug in the awkward position. “Can’t complain to be honest, sunshine.”
Almost instantly, a peach tint bridged across Levi’s nose, but otherwise he kept control of his expression. The flattering color made Erwin’s devious mind think of four other nicknames to call the man if it would earn him more of those reactions.
They existed in a little cloud of hot energy and heavy breaths creating plumes in the cold day. The humidity of sweat between them. So close. So intimate. Ready to fight each other further in a moment’s notice or go in a completely other direction. A fork in the path, and God, how had they gotten to that point so suddenly?
Neither shied from the eye contact and Levi didn’t pull away. They held their position, a strange proximity that had grown between them from shared pain and stress over the past few weeks, carving into their bones.
“You gonna do something?” Levi asked again, taunting subdued to a lower roguish tenor.
The little voice in the back of Erwin’s head warned he needed to dislodge Levi now. Get distance away from him. Tap out and surrender the match before he did something he would regret, but his body wouldn’t budge.
He wasn’t ready to separate from Levi, not when he was molded against him, flimsy clothes being the only barrier now. Even Levi’s wall seemed to be missing, somewhere tucked behind the grim rather than in front, and as those two-toned eyes flickered to Erwin’s lips, he realized maybe he really wasn’t simmering alone in wishful thinking after all. Maybe he really could capture Levi’s mouth with his and walk out the other side unscathed. Get his hand loose and cup the grim’s knee, dragging fingers up around the back of Levi’s thigh and squeeze it. From there, a subtle shift of his weight, get the man’s other leg to slip onto the ground against his hip so he was straddling Erwin, opening up beautifully and bringing their bodies even closer.
The moment was shattered by the abrupt chime of his cellphone ringing.
Levi’s core tightened against Erwin as he broke eye contact to gaze at the tree across the clearing, then adjusted himself to push off Erwin, who hoped to whatever deity out there Levi didn’t notice the hardness between his legs.
Fuck, not again.
“Probably something important,” Levi said conversationally as he stood to give Erwin space to follow.
Had it been any other day, Erwin would’ve ignored it. Opened his mouth to have Levi wait and make some excuse to continue, or even be bold enough to grab the man and keep him in place. But Levi was right. With it being Monday afternoon, it very well could be something serious.
Unable to bring himself to say anything, overwhelmed by the practical cold water of reality bringing him back from his seconds away move, Erwin got up and headed to the tree, ignoring the discomfort between his legs. Thankfully, he chose dark pants for the day to hide his problem from Levi, but at the same time, he wasn’t entirely convinced the man hadn’t felt it.
A problem for another time, he quickly decided, when he saw it was Nanaba calling him.
“How’s it going? Did you find something?”
“Erwin... You were right.”
***
Levi couldn’t pinpoint the exact point in history where humans, and specifically Supras, shot themselves in the foot when solving problems.
For the rather plain task of checking a Conex to confirm it matched the Bill of Lading, there was an awful lot of bureaucracy and red tape involved. Overlapping agencies who had variable rights and boundaries, codes they adhered by, rules and regulations, chain of command, extra steps and forms. It muddied the waters and slowed progress down to a grinding halt at times. He could see why so many people chose to simply conform and bend to what the administration insisted on because the web of unnecessary headache felt too problematic to try to absolve.
Maybe that was the government’s way of keeping society leashed and docile. Create a complex regulation system that promised order, economy, and justice while reassuring that each rule had an important purpose. To say it was frustrating was an understatement, and Levi wasn’t even involved. He was merely listening to what was happening around him as the team worked to establish jurisdiction over the Conex and its contents.
U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Maritime Administration (MARAD), Dept of Homeland Security, Seattle Police Department, Olympia’s Police Chief Pixis, and—finally, at the bottom of the barrel—GSIS.
The containership’s crew and master, otherwise known as the captain, were arrested and questioned as being standard procedure. Then after hours of Customs and Border Protection going through their usual inquiries, they cleared them.
Tybur had, for the most part, covered his ass by outsourcing the ship rather than putting the Conex on his own. Given that it was only one container being moved, it made sense to place it on a freighter already heading in that direction, so there really wasn’t much to expect there. But finding that, along with a grand piano and harp, there were two human women inside did tend to raise a few eyebrows. Hence, the disputing and dick measuring between agencies that followed.
After more posturing and phone calls, it was determined that the women were citizens with state residency which prevented a clusterfuck of more red tape had it been an international incident. With that sorted, they were taken to the hospital for medical evaluation and treatment, and finally transferred to GSIS.
What Levi came to learn was that for victims and people not necessarily under arrest, they were given kinder treatment than those in the cells. When he made a comment about preferring the private, but sparse room rather than the cage he was in last time, Mike shrugged and said Levi shouldn’t have been so melodramatic in the parking lot. In which case Levi flipped him off and told him he was going to drug the wolf and see how he liked being muzzled and manhandled next time.
“Who’s going to do that? You? I doubt there's a stepstool around here big enough for you to even reach my face, not to mention all I need to do is lean on you, and you’ll crumble, mate.”
Erwin cocked a brow at Mike and interjected before Levi could retort, “As your best friend, I’m going to warn you not to underestimate him and leave it at that. Do with that morsal of information as you will.”
“Well, that’s not weird and ominous,” Jean laughed, sending a glance in Levi’s direction. “Now I want to see this happen. We should set up a match between you two.”
Levi seemed almost bored with the conversation. “Mike wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he fought me.”
“Beat your scrawny ass,” the wolven retorted without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious answer.
“You’d trip on your big nose before you could close the distance.”
The lycanthrope choked on an inhale before shooting a venomous glare at Levi. He was only kept from snapping back an insult by Nanaba coming into the bullpen.
It was the following day that the two women were brought into separate rooms for questioning. Mike spoke to one with Eren and Jean observing while Nanaba interviewed the second. Despite having an active role in the investigation, which meant Erwin was obligated to be present, there was no way he would miss out on what was occurring. Levi, on the other hand, had no real reason to be there aside from his own. When Erwin asked him occasional questions about the women, he repeated he never seen them before and they were likely nothing more than pawns for Tybur.
The women weren’t keen on indulging in chatter either. Never mind that the agency knew their names, the non-profit women’s shelter they were staying at previously, the schools they went to before dropping out. Anything outside of official records was unknown, and it was unclear whether they were refusing to speak from shock, fear, or misplaced loyalty. Regardless of the lack of communication, it wasn’t all bad. They still had enough to legally bring Tybur in for questioning.
Que, by midafternoon, Levi being escorted to Hange’s den of depravity for a rather absurd practice of a trust exercise. Why Erwin thought it was a good idea for Hange to babysit Levi with only her human companion as a buffer was beyond him. Sure, their movie nights had been inching more into the territory of civility, but Levi still had the knee-jerk urge to attack her at times. It was circumstances like these that he genuinely worried Erwin wasn’t in the right state of mind, despite everyone telling him it was for the best.
“You can’t be seen by Tybur.”
“The further away, the better.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust you, but it’s a risk we can’t take.”
“Don’t worry. Focusing on Hange will keep you distracted and make the time go by before you know it.”
Each excuse did absolutely nothing to ease his agitation, and any argument made with wanting to stay in the observation room was shut down repeatedly. He really was forced to wait in the morgue while Tybur sat a mere two floors above him. Alive, cocky, and remain as such at the end of the day.
It rankled Levi and decayed his mood until he was reduced to a brooding shadow in the corner of the room, growling at nothing when his thoughts became too real. Moblit and Hange got the message loud and clear to let him be, choosing to busy themselves with work on the opposite side of the lab—though never took their gaze off him for too long.
“I hope Erwin knows what he’s doing,” Moblit whispered to Hange who was logging their findings from a separate case on their program.
Looking over the screen of her laptop at Levi’s withdrawn figure, she nodded in agreement, “Let’s pray he keeps his emotions out of it. I don't think we can afford Tybur from escalating things if he is involved.”
***
Erwin didn’t go into this looking for absolutes. He knew they were still far from proving anything with Tybur, C.B. case related or not. Yet, that didn’t stop him from watching the man with every intention to adjust where he saw fit.
This time, Lord Willy Tybur was not surrounded by his socialite circle, nor were they on neutral territory. He was in Erwin’s domain. Never mind that the reaper was no longer an agent with the usual sway; he didn’t need much to be effective. Nanaba, despite her hesitancy, relented some control so he could take the lead if an opportunity presented itself. Maintain the status quo unless stated otherwise.
And then play along.
Improvise.
It was a risk. But all endeavors usually carried some degree of wagering if one wished for a fruitful harvest. Sow the key points of an interaction, reap the end results. But a plan was never so straightforward no matter how confident he was. Variables had a nasty way of throwing strategies off their tracks, and countering those unfortunate instances required constant vigilance.
Lord Tybur entered the building alone. A bold move that even Erwin didn’t see coming. Many would bring their spouse or assistant or even lawyer to wait in a designated room. But not Tybur. Not this time.
He strolled in like it was a meeting he arranged and had every intention of attending. Brash. Self-assured. Charming. From the receptionist subtly fawning over his beguiling greeting, to sitting on the plastic chair in the interrogation room like it was a throne embellished in ivory and velvet textiles. Everything about the coven leader was edges measured with a ruler with groomed shoulder length hair to soft bow lips hiding fangs down to the lines of his bespoke trousers.
Another move on the chess board and now it was time to wait and observe.
Mike and Nanaba were all business as they questioned Tybur of his Conex and the not so antique instruments inside. Meanwhile, Erwin stood at the one-way glass, hands in pockets to hide his fidgeting. His thumbnail dug into his phone case, both helping to expel energy and alert him if Hange had an emergency with Levi. Outwardly, he was the epitome of attentive, listening and watching every word and micromovement of the coven leader. Somewhere in the dark room behind him, Jean and Eren took notes of the interaction, silent as the grave with the team’s entire focus locked in.
The two agents inside oscillated off each other expertly while falling into their favored roles, saved specifically for a tricky subject. Not the traditional good cop and bad, though it had been proven to work many times before. Instead, one was cordial and professional, the cookie-cutter image of a federal agent straight from a 90’s action movie. The other asked direct questions in a laxed way that gave the impression they were inquiring because they had to and nothing more. Trying to bully and intimidate someone as old as Tybur would get them nowhere, but lulling the man into a sense of ease may loosen him into slipping up. Highly doubtful. However, on the other end of that, was Tybur’s bloated confidence getting the best of him and thinking Nanaba and Mike were in over their heads. Unfit to extract information from him with such a docile approach.
It frustrated Erwin to no end knowing that despite getting to this point, corralling Tybur in the interrogation room, there was no way for the trap to snap close around the vampire. The door to the right was two-way. There was likely a car waiting for him outside at that very moment to take him home. One phone call away from SRC barging in with demands to know why their precious piggy bank was being interrogated. None of this really mattered. In the next hour, he’d be walking out of the building. The only way to pin Lord Tybur to the case was to find undeniable evidence and arrest him.
Or to get a warrant only for the lord to resist detention, in which case lethal force is used.
Levi would prefer that outcome, and truthfully, so would Erwin.
As predicted, Tybur fielded the questions without hesitation or faltering. He did not know those girls they spoke of. Never dealt in any sort of trafficking in the last 200 years. And he was simply sending the instruments to his long-time friend, Grigoriy Volkov. The Alaskan District Representative.
“It’s so difficult to find quality harps in Alaska,” he tittered away with a flourished wave of his hand.
The questions shifted toward other topics they’ve managed to dig up on Tybur’s past, along with known acquaintances who did have tainted history, or criminal records coupled their high-class standings. Tybur would acknowledge that he knew of their prior transgressions but never allowed any illegal activities to cross into his own agreements. No Supra that had lived prior to the Treaty had a spotless record, and most crimes committed prior were pardoned for the sake of progression, so Tybur’s explanation wasn’t unfounded. It also didn’t do anything in way of linking him to the suspected crime either.
However, Erwin wasn’t ready to let him walk free just yet.
“Eren. Jean.” He paused to look at his watch and measured it against the tempo of questions slowing down.
“Sir?”
“Go bring the girls in for another round of questioning. They may have something to say this afternoon after having lunch and time to reflect. Be quick.”
He could feel the younger agents exchange doubtful glances but shuffled from the room regardless. The cheshire grin and crossed legged pose from Tybur was the unspoken sign that everything was going just as the hemovore expected. Just as Erwin regretfully anticipated as well.
Turning his gaze away, he glanced at his phone to see no new messages from Hange. That was good. Levi was managing well in the coroner’s office it seemed, although Erwin wasn’t foolish enough to think it would last. The longer it took, the more he tempted Levi’s control to slip. Erwin already knew he would be the target for an arsenal of questions, and pacifying the sour dispositioned hellhound with a strawberry milkshake would be impossible. He already had a sneaking suspicion that if he asked how the Levi’s weather was, the response would be a fully wound fist to the face. Certainly, a problem for his future self to worry about.
As predicted, no more than five minutes later, the trio in the room were standing and preparing to leave. Time-worn phrases of ‘appreciate your cooperation’, ‘we’ll be in touch if we have any other questions’, and so forth were politely exchanged, but Erwin was no longer paying attention. He was in the hallway before they could exit, ready to come face to face with the coven mogul once more.
There was a thrum of nerves as he barely registered Jean and Eren coming down the corridor behind him, right on schedule. He told himself once more that this was not a useless excursion, despite the hemovore walking free. The team saved two women and Tybur was officially put on the board. The reasoning was flimsy and certainly held no water on its own, but now they had a suspicious stain on his company that may prove to open more opportunities. The more connections they found, the less Erwin’s suspicions appeared unfounded.
The door in front of him lazily swung open, double-monk-strap leather shoes stepped out only to stutter to a hiatus for the first time since entering the building. The exposed flaw in the otherwise perfected charade. Their gazes were drawn to each other instantly and from there, they didn’t move. There was no need for cursory glances or sizing the other up. They were well aware of the opposite figure at that point.
What felt like half a minute was merely three seconds, then Tybur opened his mouth with a haughty smirk taking form.
“Do I know you?”
The question lingered between them like a sword of Damocles; the answer no doubt would shape how the interaction would progress from there.
“Erwin Smith,” he extended his hand, willing to play this new match no matter how silly it was. “We met once before.”
The smirk almost felt menacing, but Erwin couldn’t pinpoint which sharp angle it was that gave him that impression. Perhaps it was the eyes that bore into him with that knowing glow. Either way, unlike their last encounter, Tybur accepted the hollow gesture without hesitation and shook the offered hand.
“Oh, right. The flyswatter. Forgive me, I meet so many new people.”
Pretentious bastard.
Tybur glanced at Mike who was holding the door open with Nanaba standing behind him while they lingered awkwardly in the threshold. “These fellow agents at least didn’t bombard me during a social event. I thank their professionalism.”
And petty.
Erwin was saved from finding a neutral response when Nanaba leaned out the room and spotted the younger agents escorting the women. Her eyes flicked to him with an accusing harshness before it slipped away and she fell into her unprepared role seamlessly.
“We’ll have someone bring you a cup of water,” she called to the women and teammates, directing Mike and Tybur’s attention behind Erwin.
Jean gave a verbal acknowledgment as he guided the woman with him into the separate room, followed by the soft clicks of doors shutting. Erwin kept his focus on Tybur’s reaction, which was predictably unremarkable. The smirk slipped into a pursed pout, a mocking display of disappointment when he saw the women from his Conex.
“Are those the poor girls you found?” he asked.
Mike captured Erwin’s gaze from over the suspect’s shoulder, disapproval evident in his squinted glower, and by that look alone, the reaper realized he was correct. Mike noticed there was some recognition made on the girls’ behalf before they ducked out of sight from Tybur. And that was a double-edged sword on its own for the case, never mind the repercussions to follow.
Erwin’s little ploy to allow the women and Tybur to see each other was a reckless move. It actually broke a few important rules in the process. By orchestrating the seemingly accidental crossing of paths, it opened the argument that anything the women had to say from here on out was being influenced or held a form of bias. Some could argue that it impacted any chances of proper identification, be accused of memory contamination, and negated their integrity for testimony.
While the consequences meant he added his name to another friend’s shit-list, Erwin unabashedly felt the case contamination was necessary. Now they had reason to believe Tybur's hands weren't as stain-free from the trafficking conjecture as he claimed.
“Such a shame,” Tybur lamented when he got no response, unbothered by Erwin’s unbroken stare. “It’s horrible how stowaways think they can flee their problems and find happiness in other places. There really should be more resources available to help those down on their luck.”
“It’s a little early to label them as stowaways,” Erwin countered. “Everything is still under investigation.”
“Oh, right. You’re still under the assumption of trafficking.”
“Alright,” Nanaba interjected with a disarming smile. “We appreciate your cooperation, Lord Tybur, but we do have some tasks that need our attention. We’ll be more than happy to see you out. Hopefully, we didn’t take up too much of your time.”
“Oh, please dear. My time is unimportant if it helps in any way for your investigation.”
Erwin knew if Levi was around to hear this man talk, the hallway would be covered in blood. By no means was Erwin new to these vacant interactions where empty words were shuffled about, but it was one of the few times he struggled to stomach it.
“I can escort you out. I’m sure the agents have to prepare for their next interviews,” he offered, lifting an open palm in the direction of the elevator.
Tybur nodded and bid his goodbyes to Nanaba and Mike before leading the way to the lift with Erwin following a half-step behind.
The ride to the ground floor was quiet, uncomfortable, and filled with malice that had no beginning or end. It was the elephant in the 9-square-foot, galvanized steel box being lowered to the lobby. Like a miasmic cloud, it clung to them until they reached the double glass doors and left the building. Along with the deep dislike for one another, there was also a shared acknowledgement that anything else needing to be said was only for their ears alone. Erwin didn’t know how he knew that with such confidence. Perhaps because of how similar they were down to their gritty cores. Maybe that was why Tybur was able to slip in stray comments and gestures that he was able to recognize easily.
Whatever the case was, once they exited the occupied lobby, the vampire unfurled from his chrysalis and became chatty.
“I hear you’ve gotten a new partner,” he opened with, light and airy as if catching up with an old companion.
Despite being outside, they were still in front of the federal building, meandering on the stretch of concrete that led to the parking lot. Stray agents were coming and going, some glancing curiously in their direction. It was enough to keep Erwin from flinching as he realized Tybur knew, not only of Levi, but had enough tabs to know he was working with GSIS.
“Did you now?”
“Mmm. I didn’t know consultants got partners. Thought only active law enforcement worked in numbers.”
“It’s a special circumstance, but I wouldn’t label it a partnership. Your intel is a bit off its mark, I’m afraid.” The fact he was aware was concerning, but Erwin wanted it to be clear that he knew someone was feeding the vampire information. Now.
“I’m just using a generalized term. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea about the relations between you and this other person, however that does not mean I’m not curious. It’s a shame that the euphoric feeling never seems to last. Getting a new... companion is always exciting when it starts out, but quickly grows tiresome when you’ve worked alone for so long. Not to mention the baggage that comes with something unstable.”
“I didn’t know you were so invested in my personal life,” Erwin replied with a close-lipped smile, giving Tybur his full attention as they waited on the curb for no doubt the vampire’s chauffer. “Did I leave that much of an impression last time that you investigated me but forgot my name? That makes me believe you’re playing needless games.”
“Me?” Almost a falsetto, almost convincing. Almost a smile. “No, no. The people I surround myself with grow bored very easily, Mr. Smith. Gossip keeps them young at heart, and I only hear the second-hand rumors. I can assure you, that is all I’m guilty of.”
Erwin couldn’t help but wonder how stupid Tybur thought he was. Probably not at all. This was all a performance for everyone else in the vicinity. The real conversation was what lay between the lines.
“Still,” Tybur continued after a thoughtful pause, “Word of advice to the inexperienced: maladjusted minds have a way of infecting those around like a malady. There’s no shame in cutting off a limb to prevent the spread of gangrene, particularly with something as volatile as an unpredictable wolven.”
“Ah, is that why you never claimed him at the shelter? Wanted to rid the limb rather than invest in treatment?”
“Please,” the smile was cutting, like a blade across whetting stone, “there is no treatment for something so feral. Don’t be an imbecile and think you can fix him.”
“I’m afraid I will have to disagree with you there. He’s made significant progress thus far, and I have to say, he’s been very helpful to work with.” Erwin knew he was gloating. Rubbing Tybur’s nose in it was probably not the smartest play, but the way the man’s face tightened, trying to keep the mask in place, was too satisfying.
“It won’t last.”
“The helpfulness?”
“The progress, Smith. But I encourage you to try, nevertheless. When he blows up, it’ll be spectacular and I’m curious how a reaper holds up to his filigree of rage.”
The words sounded vulgar when he said them, causing a displeased twist to Erwin’s stomach.
“Now you’re just projecting your own short comings, Lord Tybur. Have you considered that my methods are simply better suited? I have to say, he’s been rather... responsive to the different treatments up to this point.”
Instead of needling at Tybur’s wounded pride, the reaction he received suggested the opposite. There was an eager, hungry glee in the vampire’s gaze. A curiosity refined to a point that so many others had met their ends on, this incessant need to contort the dialogue to something else. Or perhaps the reaper had inadvertently given the vampire a motive. Whichever it was, Erwin recognized the kindred idiosyncrasy as his own. Like a corkscrew that was an unassuming tool to open opportunities or used to turn against an opponent.
“Speaking of, where is the sweet boy at? I’d hoped to see him today.”
“He’s occupied elsewhere,” Erwin replied curtly.
“Where? At your quaint little cabin? Or somewhere inside perhaps?”
Erwin stiffened but did not allow his shoulders to show the tension. The man may as well have spelt it out that Erwin and Levi were being spied on, inside and out of GSIS. “It doesn’t much concern you, does it? You’ve dismembered the limb. He’s not your concern any longer.”
“Is that what you think?”
“If you’re smart, you’ll agree.”
The smile turned malicious, eyes crinkling in the corners as pearly fangs dipped beneath Tybur’s upper lip. The inner monster Levi warned about was stirring and peeking back at Erwin through honeyed curtains. “And if you were wise, you’d not issue threats at me, child. You should learn to behave or SRC will have your scythe faster than the devil can fly.”
A black SUV with privacy tinted windows pulled to the curb, but Tybur didn’t remove his attention from Erwin.
“You know what? I just realized something.” He cocked his head curiously, dragging his eyes down the front of Erwin’s body as if he was inspecting him for fault. “You don’t know what he’s done, do you? There’s no plausible reason for you to be this protective of the little cur if you knew what his deep dark secrets were.”
Erwin felt like his features had iced over by how hard he glared at Tybur. “The secrets you burdened him with, you mean?”
“Burdened? No, they were gifts. Don’t let him fool you. He’s not innocent here.”
“No, he’s not. But neither are you. What would the other covens think if they learned one of their own was making plays against their members and using his own pets to dispose of them?”
Instantly, he regretted what he said, feeling the words burn in his mouth like vinegar. He forgot who he was dealing with, and here he was showing too much of his hand. Meanwhile, Tybur remained quiet, eyes flicking across Erwin’s face as he put more conclusions together. He never denied the accusations, didn’t even flinch. It pissed Erwin off.
“Is that all you know?” Tybur chuckled, but it held more pity than humor. Condescending and bitter. “Oh, my. And here you were with such bravado and confidence about fixing the poor sod. You don’t even know what he’s capable of, let alone what he's done that he hasn't told you... And yet, despite your blindness, you still tied yourself to him with a bond? Well... I thought you were smarter than that, Smith.”
It was Erwin’s turn to stay quiet, feeling like his intestines were spooling at his feet. He suspected there was much more to Levi’s time under Tybur that he wasn’t aware of, but he never dared to ask after their first falling out. Not even during the strenuous EMDR sessions nor during their time of sitting in each other’s company. But now, that sinking feeling was returning, causing him to doubt just how much he didn't know.
“Nothing to say, Smith? Second guessing yourself now? If you want, I have a bone saw you can borrow to rid yourself of the wretched thing.”
He didn't know if he was referring to the bond or Levi, but it was enough to redirect his insecurity into a vicious glare at the vampire. Their shadows beneath their feet tremored, coaxing Tybur to flick his eyes down to look at Erwin’s flexing powers, another silent threat meant only for them to acknowledge. He returned his gaze to the reaper and released a crooked smirk that looked too wrong and too jagged. And then he dared to step close to Erwin, putting himself directly into the reaper’s space by choice.
“Give my regards to Levi. Tell him I’m sorry I missed him," he said quietly so only they could hear. "Maybe next time I’ll bring Meringue cookies. Those were always his favorite.”
Erwin would rather shoot himself in the foot and run ten miles through sand than play messenger to this pompous bastard.
For the second time in as many months, he watched the vampire retreat into the vehicle and drive away, leaving him on the sidewalk with the knowledge that there was someone close feeding the coven leader information and tracking Levi. Knew where they lay their heads at night, knew of the bond.
Knew too much to not be considered as a deliberate threat waiting for an opportunity to act.
Notes:
For the next chapter (revolving around Erwin and Levi), I'll try to post it at the usual weekly schedule. But I'm throwing it out now there may be a delay seeing as I haven’t figured out what tone I want to take with it yet. Lighter and wholesome/happy or lighter with angst. The entire thing is dedicated to them progressing their relationship regardless, so I’m open to preferences as I start on it.
Anyway, thank you for sticking with the story so far! I know it’s a bunch of plot, and I’m still having a hard time feeling confident with the pacing when I’m not writing big action scenes, but it makes me happy to hear you're enjoying it regardless! XD
Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 24: Heartspur
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
If someone asked Levi to describe his disposition, he wouldn’t know exactly where to start. He felt he was a fairly level-headed individual. There was a no-nonsense part of him that didn’t mind calling someone out on their bullshit, but it never dug under his skin and festered into a genuine dislike. Not for something considered a small annoyance. That was probably why Furlan and Izzy were able to stick to him so easily like burs. He just rolled with the punches, though that wasn’t really an answer for his character when it came down to it.
On one hand, he felt he was detached from feeling his emotions more than what was considered normal. Erwin seemed to pick up on that, hence the weather questions. Linking what he was experiencing in that moment came easier with a visual representation. Otherwise, he would sit there and simmer in thought, trying to give name to the strange nothingness inside.
It wasn’t that he felt empty. It wasn’t that at all. ‘Content’ seemed to be a stretch, and a privilege not meant for him. He was just there. There wasn't anything there to actually stir some spike of emotion, which didn’t bother him. Perhaps that was a byproduct of all his years alone in the cell.
Alternatively, when an outside variable found one of the frayed edges of his inner workings and gave a tug, he felt far too much. Like something shaking loose in his chest and suddenly he and everyone around had an avalanche to contend with. Unfortunately, those emotions tended to err on the negative side more frequently than positive.
That was what happened when he was in the coroner’s office while Erwin was dealing with Tybur. He was fine—pissed, agitated, and restless, sure—but he was fine. Until he wasn’t.
It kept piling on. The thoughts that Tybur was so fucking close. That Levi was unchained, unmuzzled, had no fog snuffing about in his brain. A door. An elevator. If he was quick, he could cover the floors well before anyone realized what was happening to stop him. Ironically enough, the only thing that was stopping him was himself and he couldn’t be certain as to why.
Because Hange would try to stop him? Collateral damage. Or that’s what he wanted to think, but he found himself not wanting to hurt her. She’d been helpful and altruistic since meeting him and certainly didn’t deserve to be attacked for doing what she thought was best. Then there was the fallout it would bring to Erwin if Levi did follow through with his intentions. And that was probably what really stirred the bubbling pot, so to speak.
Inevitably, everything became too much for him to sit still in the corner, so he intended to pace out his frustrations across the linoleum floor. That went as well as expected, if you counted him becoming angry enough to flip a table.
Literally.
He scuffled the innards of the chicken potpie around with the fork, stealing fleeting glances at Erwin through lashes. The reaper didn’t notice, too focused on the paper in hand that he’d been staring at for the better part of two minutes. The frown was chiseling in deeper to the point Levi was certain it would become permanent, if not break the man's face completely.
“Of all the tables...”
Levi winced.
“$6,500, not including the floor damage...”
Levi opened his mouth to reply but promptly shut it. What was there to say? He wanted to get defensive and remind Erwin that Hange sedated him without his consent afterwards, but that was fair on her part. He had no argument with that angle. Then he wanted to tell Erwin he knew Levi wished Tybur dead and making him sit docile and obedient in the coroner’s office was stupid of him. What else did the guy expect? But he had no real argument there either seeing as what he wanted was against the law. And committing murder in the federal building was not only stupid—though the simple word didn’t do it justice—but a quick way to meet a needle or a scythe.
He already said sorry.
Erwin finally set the bill down on the counter that Shadis had wordlessly given him. Rubbing his hands down his face, the reaper sighed. “Why couldn’t you have flipped the one that wasn’t motorized and bolted to the ground?”
Levi couldn’t meet his gaze even if he tried, far too embarrassed of his actions and ashamed that Erwin was literally paying the price.
“It was closest,” he muttered quietly like a chastised child.
Erwin let out a laugh, but it was short and self-depreciating. “Unfortunately.”
They fell quiet with the only sound being Levi’s fork through the pie. He had mentioned he’d pay Erwin back with his portion of pay through GSIS, though it was paltry compared to what the reaper was already making. Practically internship peanuts. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to pay the full amount, plus the rest of Erwin’s kindness by the end of the year.
“Well,” Erwin released another sigh and graciously tried to let the tension out of his shoulders, “at least the shipping is free.”
Levi gnawed on the corner of his lip, but it did ease his nerves at the attempt to lighten the mood.
“Don’t worry about it, Levi. It’s not like I’m hurting for money. I think the worst of it is listening to Shadis.”
And wasn’t that the truth. That was probably the only positive that Levi had regarding the sedation. He was too out of it to be involved with the verbal shake-down the Director had given Hange and Erwin.
“I didn’t intend to cause damage,” he finally said, even if he was simply repeating himself at that point. “It just sort of happened.”
“Like I said, it’s not an issue. I’m sure we’ve both learned what to do differently if something comes up like this again. I’m just glad Hange was prepared.”
“You could leave me at the cabin next time. Pretty sure that would be the safest option.”
The amusement from Erwin dimmed as he dropped his eyes to the bill once more. “I don’t think you should be staying at the cabin alone anymore.”
That perked Levi’s gaze up from his plate. “Why not?”
There was the slightest hesitation before Erwin answered, so small that Levi wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t imagine it. “You’ve been making a lot of progress socializing. I think it’s best if we keep building on it.”
“Is that what you classified my melt down in Hange’s office as? Progress?”
“We both know there’s an exception to everything. The situation was unfortunately one we didn’t sufficiently prepare for. Now we know.”
Levi wasn’t entirely in agreement that was the case, nor was he sure that was the reason for Erwin’s opposition to him staying at the cabin. Regardless, he let the topic slide as he returned to eating his now lukewarm lunch.
“Is Mike still pissed with you?”
The man playfully groaned which tapered to a chuckle. “He’s been keen to remind me of my ambition causing problems again, yes. While it did prove useful for them to find more answers, the team is sadly limited on what they can do with the information from here.”
Levi understood how frustrated Mike and Nanaba probably were with Erwin’s stunt of contaminating the women’s account. Then again, what they did have to say wasn’t exactly the evidence of the century either. When they finally started cooperating after seeing Tybur, it was with the story of them trying to run away, hoping to find refuge in Russia. Supposedly, they didn’t know about the stop in Alaskan ports prior to crossing international waters. When asked if they knew the gentleman in the hallway or Grigoriy Volkov, they claimed never to have seen them before. That they were simply stowaways in the container that seemed most roomy and warm.
The team knew that was a lie on account of the recognition they made apparent upon seeing Tybur and that there was no way they would’ve been able to distinguish Tiburon’s container as climate controlled by the others around it. Not to mention the container was locked from the outside so they had to of snuck through Tiburon's warehouse without being found by the supra employees and hide in the Conex before it was closed. Highly unlikely, indeed.
“I’m not too worried about the botch,” Erwin went on to say, taking his empty plate to the sink to start washing the dishes. “I’ve done far worse than that and we’ve still managed to close cases.”
Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’s the point. Think he’s upset for the principle of it more than anything.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but now they’ve seen for themselves that Tybur isn’t all smiles and charity. They weren’t there when I first met him, so they’ve only been going by my suspicions on the case rather than their own.”
“So, what you’re saying is that it benefitted you in the end. Maybe don’t tell the giant moon-loon that if you want his forgiveness.”
“You know, if you keep insulting wolvens, people may start to suspect that you aren’t one.”
“Yeah? And what’ll they think I am? A bat?”
“Mmm, maybe a badger with your weird growls.”
“Shut up. My growls aren’t weird.”
“They are. You ever hear the noises a cougar makes? They can sound like a bird chirping or someone whistling all the way to terrifying screams. Your range of noises isn’t that different. A wolf one second—”
“Canine, thanks.”
“—canine, fine. And the next, I feel like I’m standing beside an allegator bellowing.”
“Oi, you didn’t have to pick me out of the shelter. But you did. So, that’s on you. Hellhound sounds and all.”
Erwin chuckled, his shoulders bouncing with the sound causing Levi to smirk. He ate the last of his chicken pie quickly, if only to smugly hand it over to the reaper before he finished with the dishes.
It took some effort for Levi to ease up on regularly inhaling his food as if it’d be stollen from him at any moment. The fact he was fed so frequently, especially with portions being too much for what his malnourished stomach was used to, helped him to slow down and actually enjoy what he was eating. There were still some days where he’d revert to hovering and guarding, as if that fear and distrust was reminding him of past tricks played on him, lulling insecurity under his skin. Erwin never said anything when he noticed, and Levi pretended it wasn’t worth mentioning either.
It helped that mealtimes had become a bit of a game, despite the uncomfortable implications of Levi’s habits. Whoever was first to finish had to start on the dishes. Levi didn’t mind, usually opting to do it if given the chance seeing as Erwin was always the one cooking. But he did enjoy sneaking his dish in right as Erwin finished with the others, just so Levi could get the playful glare as the reaper begrudgingly turned the tap on again.
Today, it was out of his own impatience that Levi decided to give the plate over while Erwin was still working on the pans, rather than wait until the reaper was nearly done.
“I was thinking of breaking out my fly-fishing gear and going to the river this afternoon,” Erwin said, setting the plate in the sudsy water to soak.
Levi canted a hip against the counter, watching him work on scrubbing a baking sheet. “Aren’t you going to freeze your balls off standing in the river?”
“I have wadders, thanks for the concern. Also, I don’t need to go that deep to fish.”
“Mhm. Alright, sure,” Levi shrugged, eyeing the filled sink and ignoring the chill threatening to crawl up his spine. “I could probably go for a run anyway.”
“Hope you’re not under the impression that I’m running with you through the forest with my fishing gear. It’s not happening”
Levi snorted, tearing his gaze up to look at the reaper. “Why not? I’d find it hilarious seeing you running with a fishing pole. Can’t be that different than a scythe.”
Erwin finished with the sheet and set it on the drying rack while giving the shifter a mock glare.
It then happened within mere seconds.
He was lifting another pan out of the section filled with water with Levi’s plate settled on top, but then the plate slid off, splashing in the water and hitting Levi in the face. Abruptly, it was as if Levi transported through time, no longer standing in the bright airy cabin with Erwin.
It was another kitchen. The light, unobtrusive colors of the home sloughed off like dead skin, an amorphous shape that darkened and became recognizable as the image exploded behind Levi’s eyes. The scene that he found himself in was choppy and broken, glitching between impressions and filling in the blanks. It didn’t play out like a full scene, but his brain filled in the gaps easily enough to connect it all—having long since burned into his memories.
“... little trick you have with that bite of yours, but we’re going to train it out of you.”
The cookies.
“You’ll never dare do that to me again after today.”
The sink was full of water, his hands bound behind his back. And Tybur was holding him up from his nape before he slammed his head inside the basin. The force was strong enough to crunch his nose at the bottom, blood mixing with the water, but he hardly noticed his busted face as he thrashed and kicked at the vampire.
It didn’t do any good. Tybur’s hold was welded tight, keeping him submerged until his lungs burned in his chest, begging his throat to open for oxygen. His struggles morphed from trying to get Tybur off and inflicting harm to sheer panic when the vampire refused to let up, until eventually, his body couldn’t hold out anymore and he was involuntarily gasping. Water breached his airways, choking and drowning him and it hurt. It hurt so much, and he vaguely realized he was convulsing, but that thought was overtaken by how his chest and skull felt like it was about to explode—
He was hauled out of the sink and thrown onto the floor straddling consciousness and blacking out. Coughing up the water, it splashed onto his face with blood and spit before he rolled to his side, finding that the reverse of water wasn’t any less painful than inhaling it.
“Take a deep breath, we’re not done yet.”
Again, Levi was hauled up, head held under water as he struggled with rage fueling his efforts to break free. His kicks and twists were aimless as his feet slipped across the sloppy tile, forcing more weight onto his ribs across the counter’s edge. The desperation returned much quicker than the first time, air hungry lungs already aching from their prior assault. Just like the first time, Tybur didn’t let up until his lungs were being penetrated with the pink mixture of fluids and unconsciousness finally claimed him.
He woke on the same floor, coughing and choking and feeling like he swallowed lava that was consuming him from the inside out. The water was cold. The blood streaming down his busted nose was warm and salty, and fuck, it felt like someone had stuck their fist into his chest.
Despite the utter pain he was in, he still managed a vitriol glare at Tybur who met it head on, fangs having aroused at some point during Levi’s drowning. Then the vampire snarled and seized him off the ground and back into the sink. Again and again.
The water was beyond contaminated with blood, no matter how much they refilled it while someone did chest compressions to bring him back from the brink of death. He remembered each time he returned to his body gasping; the first sensation was salt. From blood and snot and tears. Just salt and pain. He remembered groaning and quivering so hard he felt that his bones were rattling from the convulsions, just wishing it to be over. But the man towering over him was no longer wearing his veneer. Levi had succeeded in bringing forth the creature who only thrived off blood and mutilation and got off on carnage.
“Again.”
Levi recalled and felt every dredge of the fear. How it gripped him and soaked into each joint and sinew. He was going to die. He knew it. One of these times, they weren’t going to resuscitate him, and he was going to die—they weren’t going to pull him back from the ledge.
It terrified him so much with his head held under water, feeling as weak as he was, nearly passing out from the now broken ribs and brain starved of oxygen. He tried to preserve whatever shred of oxygen in his lungs; he tried to go limp in Tybur’s hold to show he wasn’t fighting anymore. Body and mind in survival mode. Fucking play possum, fucking submit. Just fucking make it stop, please.
But even that wasn’t enough to satisfy the vampire who continued to hold him under until his body was choking down bloody brackish water.
“Levi...”
Then he was back, purging his lungs across the floor, curling in on himself as much as his agonized body would allow. It felt like someone had taken all his ribs out and stuffed his chest cavity with broken glass--and how fucking cruel was it that breathing only made it worse.
A hand was combing through his soaked hair, and all Levi could do was allow it. Allowed the patronizing gesture. The unwanted touch. The condescending words draping over him.
“Levi.”
He would be docile now. If it broke the repeated, rotten cycle of drowning, he’d behave. He’d be good. Please—no more.
“Finally realize your place, hm? Going to be sweet now?”
The hand felt vile as it continued to rake over him. He wanted to be sick, but he didn’t even think he had the energy to vomit any more water or stomach acid or—fuck—those cookies.
“Levi.”
“I expect you to stop your childish resistance from here on out or we’ll revisit this again. However long we need to. I have all day.”
“Levi!”
Levi shuddered, a half sob, half choke ripping from his throat.
“Good dog.”
It was all rotten.
“Levi! Listen to me—come back.”
It took a few blinks through his waterlogged eyes for the mistiness to clear. He was still on the ground but propped against the cabinets rather than huddled on his side.
“Levi, you’re alright.”
Slowly, the fog that cloaked him lifted revealing gentle sunlight pouring through the window behind a head of blond hair. But it was different. Not wrong, but misplaced.
“You’re safe. Come back, Levi. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”
The cabin. He’s in the cabin. How was he at the cabin?
His body wouldn’t stop shaking and that ghostly condensation of blood and water in his throat wouldn’t leave, he couldn’t swallow it. Everything hurt like hell as if he’d been electrocuted and stuck in a perpetual full-body cramp. But beyond the initial catalogue of discomfort, there was warmth enveloping him.
It was then he realized it wasn’t water from the sink blurring his vision but tears that streamed down his face, collecting in Erwin’s shirt. He was cradled against the reaper’s chest, a hand cupping the back of his head, the other around the middle of his back. Confused and still whirling from his mimicry of a torture reel, he sucked in another shaky breath and brought a hand to Erwin’s sleeve.
“Are you back with me?” Erwin whispered against his ear, letting out an exhale when Levi nodded jerkily. “Christ, Levi. You scared the shit out of me. Are you ok?”
He pulled back to look at the shifter, palm sliding around to his cheek.
“W-what happened?” His own voice was raspy and hoarse, and oddly dry. Much different than if he’d been drowning.
“You had a full episode. I don’t know if it was the noise or sudden movement, but you panicked and hit the ground.”
“Fuck.” Levi ducked his forehead into Erwin’s shoulder, if only to hide his shame and embarrassment.
How had he become so fucking weak? He always shied away from showers for that very reason of water hitting his face reminding him of drowning and being hosed down with shitty icy streams in his cell. But even a small amount from the sink? Really?
The mounting self-loathing followed immediately on the heels of his shame, building into an explosion ready to unleash on the closest person to him. But before he could shove the reaper away and point the blame and anger elsewhere, the reaper encircled his arms around him and pulled Levi deeper into his chest.
His thoughts stuttered, glitching from anger, embarrassment, and confusion. How stupid Erwin was to give Levi access to his throat, how he was being held as if Erwin was afraid that he’d shatter if he let go. Gritting his teeth, he planted the heels of his hands onto Erwin’s shoulders, ready to push away and lash out—physically if he had to--when the man spoke.
“I’m sorry, Levi. I’m sorry.”
And he paused again. Because what the fuck did Erwin have to be sorry for? Tybur always demanded Levi to beg and apologize and yet Erwin was offering it up when he had no need to.
Whatever was going on with the reaper’s mind, it soothed Levi’s turmoil enough to surrender and accept the embrace because at least he wasn’t being judged or mocked. It felt genuine. It felt safe.
Maybe this once, it would be ok and not end up hurting him in return.
***
Erwin was feeling the effects of emotional whiplash.
After the debacle with Levi in the kitchen followed by the choppy and brief explanation of where Levi went in his mind, Erwin was a bit unmoored. Fear turned to guilt when he realized what happened and what caused the trigger. Then it morphed into humiliation when he realized that he never questioned why Levi always insisted on a bath. Predictably, white-hot rage nestled beneath his ribs when he learned about Tybur’s punishment of yo-yoing with death, but there was nowhere for his wrath to go. He was forced to tame it for Levi’s sake and focus on the shifter's recovery from his violent episode.
Strangely enough, Levi insisted on a bath afterwards, muttering he could feel blood on him, but there was none. Rather than pointing it out, Erwin assisted him, particularly due to Levi’s shocking request for the reaper’s aid. Levi chose to stay in his boxers, as he had when Erwin guided him during the incident, although to say Erwin was hesitant by the request was an understatement. He didn’t make a big deal about it. Didn’t question Levi. Instead, he followed the man’s lead taking up a sponge and wiping Levi down when that thousand-yard stare returned and the man completely shut down.
After a while, Levi eventually came back to himself and once he was convinced that he was clean again, they quietly went to the living room where Erwin sat on the couch with space for Levi to choose how far or close he wanted to be.
Shock number two of the day—or was it three?—Levi pulled a cushion from the sofa and set it on the floor. Facing the black screen of the television. Between Erwin’s thighs. Neither said a word, both fearing to breach the calm and cause it to shatter into something terrible.
Awkwardly turning on the tv to a random documentary, they continued to sit and simply exist until Erwin couldn’t take the unease any longer. Without really thinking, allowing his impulse to take over, he began to tease his fingers through Levi’s damp hair.
The man stiffened but the moment was fleeting. The strain leached gradually as Erwin continued, being as gentle and mindful as he could to not tug on any tangles.
“Is this ok?” he asked, letting his hands stop at the base of Levi’s scalp.
The grim hummed, then replied, voice soft, “Yes.”
Erwin continued, lightly letting the inky strands caress between the pads of his fingers, skimming across callouses from his scythe.
It persisted like that for some time, one documentary bleeding into another. Levi’s posture continued to melt at Erwin’s touch, sighing and allowing his eyes to slip closed. The extension of trust he was allowing the reaper didn’t go unnoticed. Erwin realized he loved seeing Levi like this: gentle, guard down, not looking for the next abysmal thing around the corner. And to think that it was possibly the first time Levi truly allowed himself this indulgence since before his capture, or possibly before even that, was a heady feeling.
He didn’t know if this was a one-off occurrence or if Levi would ever allow himself to frequent the tender handling. Maybe he was simply too drained from the emotional gauntlet his brain continued to churn up at random moments, a spring trap always waiting and winding tighter. Whatever the case, Erwin would prioritize these moments above all else if Levi allowed it.
In the end, Levi slumped against his thigh, mouth parted as he drifted to sleep. Erwin couldn’t help but smile as he turned his focus on the television. He kept one hand against Levi’s scalp, rubbing his fingers in circles as he sunk into the cushions. As much as he wanted to enjoy the moment, possibly take a brief nap himself, his brain refused to settle.
There was too much at stake to drop his guard just yet. Not when the man responsible for such an episode was now making personal threats and waiting for his own opportunity to spring.
***
The following few days were conveniently slow with things falling idle with the case. The team was currently working on assisting with another unit and murder, leaving Erwin and Levi free to work on EMDR sessions and unwinding.
After Levi’s nap, he seemed to have recuperated from his PTSD episode, inching back to his dry teasing wherever he saw fit to slip it in. Erwin was relieved to see the grim bounce back after his rest, though he knew it didn’t mean it wasn’t a new problem to consider moving forward. When he suggested Levi working on the memory during the EMDR session to dampen the emotional connection, the man seized up and shook his head. It was too soon after reliving it, and he was far from trusting himself to keep it together. Entirely understandable.
In the evenings, they would occasionally venture out to a nearby town and pick up food for dinner, changing the routine and offering new exposure to Levi. They went to a National Park, took a drive through the mountain pass that was already blanketed by a few feet of snow, and stumbled upon a café overlooking the local ski resort.
That had become one of Erwin’s favorite days in recent memory, watching Levi stare out the window and stare at the distant dots weaving down the mountain, holding a cup of cocoa between his hands. Erwin had bought Levi a deep green scarf that hugged his neck, where he occasionally caught the grim dipping his chin beneath it, looking—dare he say—cute.
He refused to voice it aloud, not for embarrassment of his growing feelings, but because he was sure Levi would take it as an insult. He’d probably be a brat and spout off something like, “Since when are Hellhounds cute? In case you forgot, we’re death omens, you fucking weirdo.”
Count on Levi to ruin a pleasant moment. Yet despite the man’s strange view on gratifying comments, he meant it in good humor, which admittedly was contagious and hard to hold a grudge against.
Their movie nights with Hange continued, even with her bringing co-workers from GSIS and the university on occasions to expose Levi to new scents. For the most part, it had been touch and go. Some days he reverted to that rigid and grumbling front while others he sat quietly at the opposite end of the room, watching them more than the television. It was no wonder they didn’t have a volunteer return for a second night with Hange--not that Levi was heartbroken over it. But progress was progress, and Erwin couldn’t be upset over it.
There was the slight concern over learning about the mole feeding information to Tybur. He only informed Hange about it, which she agreed that bringing people from GSIS to his house would probably need to be put on hold. Even so, she promised to keep an eye on those that had come by to see if anything suspicious occurred, but most had been lab techs and interns. Erwin got the impression that they wouldn’t have access to the details Tybur apparently collected, however he wasn’t going to disregard the chance that there could be more than one leak within the agency.
Regardless of the risk of allowing mutual acquaintances to his home, Erwin couldn’t deny that it was benefiting Levi’s instinctive trigger around hemovores. Halting it completely seemed irresponsible and Tybur already knew enough to cause harm if he felt audacious enough to do so. Hange agreed, and while keeping the details from Levi, they decided to stick with people from Hange’s second job, far from the agency.
***
Hange sat in her car, fiddling with her phone as she waited. Any minute now her newest volunteer for a movie night would be pulling up the driveway, but in the meantime, she alternated between the colorful game on the screen and watching the cabin.
Dusk was never a disappointing view in the mountains, where the peace was a reprieve from busy city life. Erwin had mentioned that the souls that frequently would hover over the land had been quiet since Levi had been living there, which was one thing she couldn’t figure out the cause of. She had asked the hellhound, of course, but he was stingy with information and far too unsocial to have mercy on her insatiable thirst for knowledge. It was probably a good thing she didn’t need details to survive on, or she would’ve perished long ago from Levi’s inability to be forthcoming.
Still, that didn’t keep her from hypothesizing different explanations, her favorite being that Levi was just a scary creature that souls were wary of. But if what he said was true, his ability to send souls to the Netherworld was not unlike a Reaper’s ability. Perhaps the souls sensed that they could end in the claws of a demon if Levi was the one to send them off. Understandably, that would be motive enough to keep distance with fear that the souls would meet a worse fate than aimlessly wandering the earth.
Before she could get further in thought, the headlights pulling into the driveway caught on the rearview mirror. Ten minutes later than the scheduled time, but Hange knew traffic was a beast on its own.
Slipping her phone away, she unfolded herself from the car and shut the door as the vehicle that parked beside her turned off. The driver’s side opened as a shock of cinnamon, shoulder length hair emerged from inside, catching the last of the dying light to stand out amongst the encroaching shadows. Hange’s easy smile directed at her student faded with a somber crease as a familiar scent tickled her nose.
“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late,” the woman said, looking every bit the soft flowery aesthetic with her petal pink cardigan and white blouse. “There was an accident on I-5 and of course it was right before my exit—”
“Did you eat before you came here?”
The woman hesitated at the unexpected terseness from her professor, no doubt feeling off-kilter from the brash greeting.
“Um... yes. I didn’t eat lunch today. Lost track of time studying between classes, so I grabbed something quick to tie me over—”
“Damnit!” If the car door wasn’t already shut, she would’ve slammed it. “Wait here. I need to tell Erwin.”
“Huh? Wait, what’s wrong?”
“You stink of blood! I told you the situation beforehand about who we were meeting and his traumatization with vampires before you agreed to help. And instead, you decide to meet that same person smelling like blood. Pretty counterproductive, don’t you think? Basically, rubbing his nose in it.”
“I’m—oh, I didn’t. Professor, I’m really sorry—It was never my intentions of causing trouble, I’m really sorry.”
Hange sighed, letting out her initial spike of frustration with the exhale. She knew the girl didn’t mean anything by it, having one of the kindest dispositions of her classmates. It didn’t help she looked on the verge of tears, proving it was nothing more than poor oversight. She was a stellar student, taking on extreme amounts of course work and finishing her dissertation, so it was understandable where the mistake of grabbing a quick meal came from. But that didn’t take away from the fact it would set Levi off and risked her getting injured in the process.
“Ok, I understand, but this is a serious situation. Just hold on. I’m going to talk to them. Wait here.”
She hurried to the front door to knock on it, cursing to herself as the treacherous breeze didn’t pull the scent of blood away with the cabin, being downwind from the vehicles. Of course, she realized that she should’ve had the girl wait in the car or move it to the side of Erwin’s truck, but it was too late as the sound of someone coming to greet her was just inside the home.
***
Levi opened the door to Hange who cracked a wide grin that looked borderline manic. He was about to say so, point blank, with a raised brow meant to enhance every ounce of judgement on the loud vampire, but froze when the coppery scent hit him. His gaze zeroed in on the woman standing shyly between the vehicles, shifting anxiously on her feet.
Hange let out a forced laugh, “Hi there, munchkin. Soooo... Um. That’s Petra. She’s one of my students, so please don’t attack her.”
Levi swallowed, nose flaring but he didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at the vampire mere feet from the ledge of the deck. He could feel his hand grip harder into the knob of the door as Erwin’s shoeless feet padded up behind him, the scuffing of his sweatpants shushing across the floor.
“Hey, Hange. What’s going on?”
“So, uh, Petra missed meals today, from over working herself with her projects, and she didn’t think about it when she grabbed something to eat before coming here. I can send her home if we don’t want to chance her coming in. I’m sure she won’t mind trying to do this another day but,” in the corner of Levi’s eye, he saw her gesture toward him, “yeah. Don’t want to risk my student’s safety.”
He didn’t tear his combative stare away from Petra who looked like she was trying to decide between fleeing or crying. Internally, he was having a similar battle of sorts between his instincts urging to get her far away by any means and the tug of sentimentality that couldn’t keep from connecting the similarities between her and Isabel. The fawn hair, similar stature, vibrant eyes. Although the biggest difference was the way they held themselves. Whereas Izzy was unabashedly confident and outgoing, Petra was reserved and unassuming. Whether it was from her humiliation and trying to appear smaller or because she was genuinely a gentle soul, he wasn’t sure. But he did know it was the only thing that gave him pause to consider the options.
There was a touch against his wrist that hung by his side, finally drawing his stare toward the reaper.
“It’s up to you. Don’t feel like you need to push yourself if the scent is too strong.”
Another internal dilemma caused the muscle of his jaw to twitch. Levi wasn’t keen on letting new vampires in for these stupid exercises as it was, but he couldn’t deny they were working to help return some control to him. He could even stand to be near Hange for longer periods of time in close proximity, but touching him was still a barrier they both avoided. Allowing a stranger into the home that smelt of blood felt like too big of a step for him, but at the same time, he couldn’t say when he’d ever be ready to attempt it in the future. It would have to happen at some point regardless. And the poor girl looked like she’d break down if he sent her on her way.
Levi wasn’t heartless, but the spur of empathy for a vampire of all people was enough for him to check himself and consider it. These volunteers were taking time out of their days to help him, knowing of his distrust toward their kind. While mentally, he knew his anger and hatred was reserved for Tybur and his circle, Levi was trying to fix himself to be better. Petra had volunteered to help him even after apparently having a long day of course work, and she made a simple mistake. And really, it wasn’t a mistake at all. She merely ate after skipping a meal from her busy schedule, just taking care of herself, and was now feeling punished for it. It wasn’t her fault that Levi was triggered by his own demons.
“No... she can stay,” he answered, feeling much weaker in his conviction than his voice sounded. “But she has to sit in the armchair.” Farthest away from me.
Hange didn’t react one way or another. She simply observed him, likely to try to unearth any hint that he was taking too much on and putting her student at risk. Levi didn't try to put on a front as he continued to stare at Petra, hoping he wasn't making a mistake. If Hange saw something about him that she didn't like, he wanted her to say so. He trusted her and Erwin enough to sense when he was taking on too much. Eventually, after an unknown time of measuring, she nodded.
“Alright. You guys get settled however you need. I’ll let her know and we’ll be in if she feels comfortable enough.”
Levi didn’t say anything as he shut the door while Hange trotted down the deck stairs, but he did narrow his eyes at Erwin in a silent, ‘what?’.
“You sure you’re alright with this?”
Levi shrugged, not willing to voice how much he wasn’t onboard with the agreement. His nerves were teeming beneath his skin, but he forced his breathing to stay slow despite how much his diaphragm tried to suck in shallow gulps. Giving himself something to focus on, he went into the kitchen to grab his own bowl of snacks: some pretzel bratwurst bites and pub cheese, his silent claim. Meanwhile, Erwin took up the bowl of popcorn, wings, and pizza bites for the coffee table along with drinks.
“Where do you want to sit? I can move the furniture if it helps.”
“Let’s just...” Levi paused eyeing the open floor of the living space and feeling like it had somehow shrunk in the last fifteen minutes. “Let’s just see what happens.”
The front door opened as Hange announced themselves, cheery mood still in place, though it was obvious that it was forced. Petra sidled in warily offering a polite smile and introduction to Erwin and Levi from the doorway as they slipped their shoes off.
“We certainly appreciate you coming all this way,” Erwin welcomed at the entryway like a good host. He had a way of smiling that didn't indicate how he felt one way or another. Something Levi noticed appeared more frequently whenever Erwin met people Hange brought over after his meeting with Tybur. Whatever happened to cause the subtle change was never answered when Levi asked, though that didn't stop him from wondering what he missed. “I hope evening traffic wasn’t terrible for you, Petra.”
“Oh no, it was the worse. I was telling Professor Zoe that there was an accident right before the exit I needed to come this way.”
“Isn’t it funny how that happens sometimes? Especially after a long day.”
Petra sobered as she glanced at Levi who hadn’t moved from where he stood in the living room. She shyly rubbed her hands together, smile diminishing to something sheepish. “I’m really sorry about this. It was a stupid oversight on my part to eat on the way here, but I’m grateful you’re allowing me to still help. If I make you uncomfortable, I can always leave.”
Levi swallowed behind his clenched jaw, surprised as he inhaled the tint of blood that he hadn’t started to growl yet. There remained the urge to lash out, to bare his teeth, but somberness was doing a hell of a job dampening his defensiveness. She looked so much like Izzy.
“No, it’s... It’s ok. Just. Don’t make sudden moves and,” he paused, wondering if he was sounding like a jackass before pressing on, “and try to stay on the other side of the room.”
Petra seemed to take no offense to it, nodding in understanding.
With some painstaking tension ramping up, the four eventually settled into the living room. As agreed, Petra took the farthest armchair while Hange was ‘promoted’, as she loudly claimed, to the far side of the couch. Erwin sat in Levi’s spot, under the grim’s direction, so Levi could plant himself against Erwin’s leg on the floor in order to give him a handicap if he lost control. The failsafe would give Erwin time to grab him before he could get up, plus it allowed Levi the illusion of a barrier that blocked Petra. Silly as it was, it seemed to help calm him.
“You sure you don’t want this spot?” Erwin asked for the third time as Hange scrolled through to find a movie as it was her turn to pick. “I can sit between you and Hange and still be able to stop you if you get up.”
“Stop fussing. I’m fine where I’m at.”
Erwin sighed, clearly exasperated while Hange slapped his arm playfully.
“Yeah, stop with the mother goose routine. He’s fine.”
“It’s not a mother goose routine. The floor doesn’t seem all that comfortable.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I lived in a cell the last 30 years. Your floor is an improvement, trust me.”
In typical fashion, Erwin found that to be more of a reason to complain. “That’s kind of the point. You shouldn’t be comparing two floors in the first place. I told you I can move the furniture.”
“I’m sorry,” Petra interrupted, once again looking like she was considering fleeing. “If I’m making it worse, I can go—”
“Don’t listen to him,” Levi cut her off. “Erwin’s got a complex is all. Ignore him and he’ll eventually stop.”
He could feel the heat of Erwin’s glare at the back of his head, but he didn’t dare look back, pretending to be interested in watching the movie titles flick across the screen. It was a good distraction when he was watching Petra from the corner of his eyes.
“What complex is that, Levi?”
“You know what it is.”
“Enlighten me, because I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your dumb savior complex. You make these weird leaps and connections that’s just you overthinking things. Like me sitting on the floor probably has your brain jumping to conclusions that it’s giving the impression of a dog not allowed on the furniture or some shit, and it’s eating away at your conscious, when really, I’m comfortable here.”
The scrolling stopped as Hange glanced between them, likely assessing and coming up with her own conclusions to the sudden bickering.
“Erwin does tend to overthink things,” she eventually said.
“I do not overthink," the reaper retorted sourly, "Not in the way you’re referring to.”
“Yeah, but you do.”
“Hange.”
“Levi’s not wrong,” she defended. “But at the same time, you aren’t either. It’s not a bad thing to consider other angles. The last thing you want is to unintentionally make something seem demeaning when it appears harmless on the surface.”
Levi shook his head, “I get it, but Blondie does it all the time.”
“Well, in his defense, he’s overstepped plenty by not considering the full picture with you before, remember? There’s no magical approach that covers every scenario. The best you can do is adapt and try to improve your communication. Both of you.”
“Wow,” Erwin replied dryly, “I really wasn’t anticipating a lecture on our communication skills when I invited you here.”
“Couple’s counseling is a free service that I’m always happy to provide to my closest friends!”
Petra laughed lightly from her seat, muffled behind her hand as if trying not to set Levi off. “Professor Zoe is always side-barring discussions in class like this. Some days we never get through the lesson because of it. But it’s sweet to see her doing the same for her friends. Doesn’t surprise me, but at least you never need a couple’s therapist. I heard they’re expensive.”
“You say that,” Erwin explained, a smile tugging free, “but when you’ve lived centuries with her, it gets frustrating being proven wrong so often. Plus, Levi and I aren’t a couple.”
“You’re not?” Petra asked, brows pinching together. “Oh. Sorry. I thought... You both just seemed close. And Professor Zoe said—”
“Nothing! I said nothing!”
Levi cocked a brow and sent her a look that clearly didn’t buy her excuse.
Erwin huffed. “Hange, why can’t you stay out of people’s business?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“What? Noo... Ok, so maybe I mentioned I knew a reaper and wolven that were doing some crime fighting and using the string of murders to learn more about each other and grow closer together... and maybe the class has been interested in details of how it’s been developing—but I never said any names!”
Petra, feeling a bit bolder, spoke up, “That’s how she’s been getting students to volunteer. They’ve been interested in seeing the famous crime consultants in person who’ve been giving WMC a headache these past few weeks. A lot of my classmates aren’t fans of the system in place. Plus, hypothesizing what sort of murder case you’re working on is relevant to our medical examiner studies so everyone’s been invested to some degree in her stories. I think others are more interested in the love interest part.”
“So,” Levi drawled out, “this entire time, these people have been coming here to put eyes on us because of the delusional storytelling that you made up in class. Making a spectacle of us now, Four-eyes?”
Hange guffawed and waved a hand in the air as if a perfect explanation would be conjured and plopped into her lap. “No-no, not that. No. It was just... to garner interest. And I’ve just been so proud of how far you two have come and wanted to brag is all.”
Petra relentlessly added, “She told us these are your date nights.”
It was then that Levi decided he really did like the girl as Hange huffed at her.
“Whose side are you on, Petra? You don’t owe these buffoons any explanation on how I get volunteers!”
Erwin glowered teasingly at his friend but spoke to Levi. “I think after this case is closed, we’ll have to move out of the country. Our reputation is soiled.”
Hange blew a raspberry at him. “You won’t leave. You’ll miss me far too much. Besides where would you even go?”
“That’s the point, Hange. To get away from you. And I don’t know. Maybe we’d go visit Belgium.”
“Those hills in The Princess Bride took place in Ireland. The Cliffs of Moher is the site they filmed for the Cliffs of Insanity,” Levi interjected, picking up Erwin’s reference to a prior discussion they had. Then he added, “I googled it.”
Erwin shot him a look that was both impressed and skeptical. “Googled? I don’t even need to ask to figure out who taught you that term.” Hange snickered from the other end of the sofa, undeterred by his point frown. “I know the reason wasn’t altruistic either, Hange, so quit while you’re ahead. Can’t wait to see what else you come across now, Levi.” He said the last part with sarcasm.
As if to rub it in, Levi inserted, “The League of Extraordinary Gentleman was mostly filmed in Czech Republic.”
“What? Really? I was sure it was Italy.”
“Nope. We were both wrong.”
“Boys, I’m glad I can be of assistance in fact checking whatever weird arguments that you two have,” Hange interrupted, “but we’re here to watch a movie. No commentary unless it’s about the one we’re watching.”
“Then pick a movie already, you psycho.”
“Geez. You see the ungratefulness I have to put up with, Petra? Totally uncalled for.”
She laughed again, allowing it to taper as Hange resumed her hunt for a movie to watch. “Um, Mr. Smith?”
“You don’t have to be formal here. You can call me Erwin.”
“Right. Sorry. Um, can I use your restroom before the movie starts?”
“Of course,” he sent a look to Levi and then stood up. “I’ll show you where it’s at.”
Together they left the living room, taking the longer way around to give plenty of distance from the shifter. Keeping an eye on them from over his shoulder, he was pleased that Erwin made sure to take Petra upstairs to his bathroom, likely to avoid any lingering scent in Levi’s.
“How’s Warrior sound like? MMA fighters in a competition?” Hange asked, finally stopping on a title.
“Sure. That sounds good,” Levi replied absently, as he eyed the movie cover on the television.
It was times like these when he was left alone with Hange that he realized just how far he had come from trying desperately not to attack her. Even though this was the closest they’ve been for a set period, it helped that he had a larger ‘threat’-person- to focus on instead. Even if he didn’t like admitting to it, the exposure exercises had been helping desensitize him from reacting to scents when travelling with Erwin to local stores. The downside was that when it came to vampire feedings, he was not as in control as he appeared. If Petra had a full meal or tried to drink in the same room, he was sure he’d be at her throat in a heartbeat, regardless of her similarities to Izzy. That thought alone made him feel nauseous and reawaken his internal self-loathing, but he managed to stop himself from spiraling downwards with how that meant he was no different than Tybur.
Barely.
“You’ve improved so much, Levi,” Hange commented as they waited for Erwin and Petra to return. It was scary how easily she could piggyback off his own thoughts like some demented mind reader. “All teasing aside, Erwin seems good for you. He’s patient when it matters with these exercises, and he really does try to support you where he can. It probably helps that not much bothers his unflappable demeanor.”
“I don’t know. I can be pretty flappy at times.”
Hange snorted at his dry quip. “Then it’s a good thing he’s got the patience of a mountain.”
“Yeah.”
A mountain holding roots.
He let his gaze fall onto the book at the end of the coffee table where he knew his pressed fern lay between the pages. It was the same he had taken the first day Erwin let him go outside, a keepsake he hid so he could run his fingers over the delicate feather-like leaves whenever he liked. It was a perplexing reminder that Erwin contained vestiges of honesty and trust toward him and wasn’t set out to keep him leashed.
When Erwin and Petra returned, Hange announced the movie, and their discussions tapered off as it started. It didn’t escape his notice that Petra had come back smelling strongly of hand soap or that her cardigan had been rolled up past her elbows where the tips of her sleeves were damp. She obviously tried to scrub as much of the blood scent off as possible, though it continued to cling to her beneath the initial layer of citrus. He appreciated the effort, regardless.
As the movie progressed, the sliver of space that rested between his shoulder and Erwin’s knee became another noticeable detail to him. It was not much, but between Petra and his new position next to the reaper, Levi fixated on it. He could feel the reaper’s body heat, the way the bottoms of the sweatpants tickled his knuckle of his pinky. There was a splinter of hope that Erwin would absently comb his fingers through Levi’s hair as he had when they were last in that position. While it soothed him from his episode, he selfishly found personal enjoyment from the contact.
Kind touch was rather foreign to him. Most of his life, he traveled alone, and the parts where he was with friends or family, any contact was limited to familiar gestures. One-night stands were only to get what both parties needed to let off steam, and any other contact outside of those were not from what he considered as allies. He supposed that technically made him touch-starved, however it didn’t deter him from wanting the same sort of connection.
Levi slipped his bottom lip between his teeth, realizing that he was subconsciously putting effort to not close the meager distance between them. Erwin had told Hange and Petra that they weren’t a couple, and while he agreed, he didn’t think using the man for innocent comfort would cross any unspoken barriers. Erwin was the one to nearly smother him in a hug on the kitchen floor when he didn’t need to. He was also the one to initiate carding through Levi's hair while they sat together along with various other gestures throughout the day. The largest concern he had was cross some line with Erwin and making the man uncomfortable, but he didn't think having a temperate desire for undemanding contact would be cause for offense.
Deciding that he didn’t care if Hange saw or made a bigger deal over their questionable relationship title, Levi closed the distance between his shoulder and Erwin’s leg. Even though he was determined to give into his selfishness, the movements were stilted with unease, yet he was relieved when Erwin didn’t move away. Levi let out a slow breath, turning his attention to the movie while keeping Petra at the edges of his sight. No hand came to settle on his head, but that was fine. At least he wasn’t being pushed away and rejected. He would normally count that as a win, except for the fact that, as he sat there, it became clear that it wasn’t enough to curb the comfort he was craving.
Fuck it. If Erwin didn’t like it, he trusted the reaper to let him know.
Ignoring the second spike of fear from rejection, Levi leaned his head onto Erwin’s thigh and slid his hand beneath the seam of the sweatpants until he could wrap his hand across the back of Erwin’s ankle. He could feel the reaper stiffen minutely from the gesture, but he didn’t move away or berate Levi. The skin contact was enough for him to finally settle, appeasing his fixation so he could return to watching the movie.
It was strange to feel satisfied from an act of selfishness, rather than feeling guilty over it. There was probably something to be said about time and place and even moderation, as if his core personality would become addicted to the rewards and he'd grow greedy, but he felt that wasn’t the case with him. If anything, he just wondered if this was all he could hope to seek from Erwin or if the man would be interested in taking it a bit further. Exchanging more touches between them instead of lobbying words meant to comfort and soothe the frequent turmoil that popped up like stubborn mole hills.
That wasn’t to say he would be fully receptive to future contact. The idea was a bit daunting, if he was honest, but maybe if it progressed moderately, he could get over his unease as he had with everything else to that point.
As for Hange and her insistence on labelling their strange relationship, he’d continue to ignore it if Erwin remained receptive to more contact. He didn’t know if there was a label to what they were or not, however he never had been one for overthinking personal relations. Izzy and Furlan were friends of his, but he considered them as family. Even if Izzy never called him shortened brotherly endearments, he still would’ve considered them as such. It was based on their strong connection to one another. All in perception and devotion.
A hand hesitantly settled at the back of his neck, just out of view from Hange by being on the side of his leg. He felt Erwin’s thumb brand circles across his hairline on his nape, moving up to the base of his skull in soothing loops. Levi could feel the corner of his lips tug upwards as all remaining tension melted from his shoulders.
Yeah. This sort of touch wasn't so bad.
***
The wet slopping across the floor was harmonized with the last desperate gurgles from the woman. Around them, the stench was brimming with copper and an underlying flavor of meat beneath the flayed skin that was exposed to atmosphere, soon to start decaying once the heart stopped pumping through its veins. Convulsions and whimpers rattled across the table between spurts of blood fountaining out of the woman’s lips and gouged throat until she eventually fell silent save for the random death twitches in her limbs.
“We can finish this up if you’d like to return home,” Zeke offered, donning the full apron and thick gloves of that of an abattoir. It wasn’t a misplaced description as these victims were nothing more than kine to him, but the image of blood on the man's spectacles was a novelty. "I'm sure the rest will be rather boring to watch."
“While I trust you and your companion are capable of meeting my vision, I'll be following along to the next site to assist. There're a few personal touches to the scene I plan on adding.”
The man’s brows lifted higher, but not in judgement or doubt. “Your tableaus are always unique, my lord. I’m curious to see what you have in mind to elevate it.”
Willy stepped closer to the woman’s cooling body, raking a nail across her bare chest to collect a dollop of blood and brought it to his lips. Not unlike a child tasting icing from a cake, which almost had him laughing at the comparison for his plans.
“As you’re aware, Smith has been a cocky thorn in my side. I'm doing it to make a point, is all.”
Zeke glanced at the corpse and then to Willy, not bothering to acknowledge the other coven member preparing to move the body to the scene Willy had in mind for his display. “Ah, so this is a jab at him then? Or a distraction?”
“It’s actually meant for him and my dear pet. Smith is so certain that he’s come to control and fix my wolven. That Levi isn’t a landmine waiting for the right pressure point to set him off. I intend to prove otherwise." He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands clean of any residue. "I told Smith that these were gifts. I think it's time for him to appreciate the full meaning behind it."
A sickle sharp smile split the alpha’s beard as he glanced at the pool of blood spreading across the floor. “I’m assuming you have a plan when that happens. As far as I’m aware, if your wolven acts out during his year of probation, he could be sent back into the WMC system. Or put down.”
“Among other things, yes. Whichever happens to him, I have a few plans in place. If we’re lucky, Levi will solve our Reaper problem for us permanently and be left open for claiming.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Willy gave him a candied smile. “I have other methods to fall back on.”
Notes:
Sorry for the delay! I mean I know I gave that warning last week, but I actually had this mostly written out by Tuesday. Then work got so hectic and I was feeling burnt out. But it’s here!
Hope the sort of gentle break from prior darker chapters was enjoyed. It may be a little bit before we’re back to comfort.
Thank you for all the amazing support! I hope everyone is doing well in this crazy world. Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 25: The Scarlet Gift
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
He had always been present and accounted for when shit hit the fan. It was one of the few things about himself that he always taken pride in; being the one who showed up and did whatever needed tackling, even when it was the hard thing to do. Reliable, focused, and in control; willing to do what was necessary to get him and whoever else passed the storm and out the other side in one piece. It wasn’t often that he felt his hands were tied behind his back, and he was reduced to a bystander watching everything unfold with no chances of grabbing a paddle to stop going further up shit’s creek.
His power writhed like a pile of worms coiling in his chest, pummeling him into an emotional pulp as the long-buried memories infiltrated the forefront of his thoughts. And he hated it. That overwhelming feeling of directionless wrath that was closer to a poison than being productive, which only infuriated him more.
And of course, with no outlet for his rage, it kept building. It kept building until it pressed outwards through his skin, leaching from his pores, and warping the walls around him. It kept building until he was powerless to stop his fist sailing in hopes to expel some of his restless energy.
But the only thing his effort accomplished was breaking the dam.
***
6 Hours Earlier
Levi wasn’t entirely sure if he shot himself in the foot or not. He was correct to assume that Erwin didn’t hold much hesitation to touch, and a part of him wondered if the man’s self-restrictions had been solely due to not making Levi uneasy. Hell, maybe the reaper was just as affection starved as he was, so this was the result of mutual comfort. Whatever the reason was, Erwin seemed to have developed a recent obsession with stealing touches or vying for more attention, and it was starting to drive Levi a little crazy.
He didn’t meet Erwin’s gaze across the table, despite the subtle attempts he made to attract his attention. Eye-contact, or lack of, remained a habit that continued to bother the reaper, especially when it was only them in the cabin.
Erwin tried to rotate his plate to change the angle on the food, dragged the fork between his teeth, shift in his seat, and at one point, brushed his socked foot across Levi’s. It was difficult to maintain believable aloofness, pretending he could see through the glare reflecting off the glass plane and searching the early morning’s dark forest beyond. His flushed neck and cheeks certainly weren’t doing him any favors.
“There’s a winter festival coming up that I think you’d enjoy,” Erwin spoke after previous efforts for Levi’s attention failed. When Levi finally relented and turned his gaze, he was met with an eager smile in wait. “It’s outdoors and the whole town is decorated in lights. Plus, the food vendors are open whether it snows or not.”
“Is it in the city? Not sure how I feel about being in the open like that.”
“It’s actually a little German town in the mountains. Quaint and small. It can get busy closer to the holidays but if we go before then, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
The event sounded appealing to Levi, having enjoyed the few other ventures into the mountain towns so far. Many times, he had to clamp down on the urge to shift, though it was common for small city limits not to share unreasonable restrictions like the larger urban areas. Plus, he didn’t care for the image it would portray of being an actual pet with Erwin beside him. That was one of the few things he thought lycanthropes had the advantage of when they were shifted and remained bipedal in image: less affiliated with actual dogs.
“Might need to buy you a thicker jacket though. It’s only going to get colder,” Erwin said conversationally around his breakfast.
“Or I could just layer,” Levi suggested. “Not everyone needs so many outfits for the year, you know.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“It seems you think you don’t have enough of them. Did you customize the closet construction when this place was built or is that standard size?”
Erwin was quiet for a beat. “What were you doing in my closet?”
Levi shrugged, ignoring the suspicious glare. “Just looking.”
“You’re sounding judgy and that hurts my feelings.”
“Relax, Blondie. I like your peacock attire just fine. I was only saying I don’t need an outfit for every meal.”
“Peacock attire?”
The phone on the table came to life before they could continue their discussion, rattling and ringing a tune that seemed unusually shrill for that early in the morning. Levi couldn’t help but frown at it, sensing that the call was something important, which would interrupt the run they planned to go on in the next hour before sunrise.
“This is Smith.”
Ah, Shadis must be wanting his money for that table.
“Right. Where at?” The reaper met Levi’s gaze as he listened to the details then glanced out the dark windows. “And we think it’s connected?”
Whatever the response was, Erwin’s face turned cold as his other hand abandoned the fork on the plate.
“Alright. We’ll head that way.”
The phone hung up and he wasted no time getting to his feet and taking the half-eaten breakfast to the kitchen.
"What was that about?"
“There’s been another murder. We’re up.”
***
Levi stuck close to Erwin, haunting his steps just behind his elbow. He made a habit of leaving his scarf under the reaper’s jacket at the cabin to collect the natural scent and cologne. Anything to help dampen other smells of the environment during their outings, but that seemed pointless for a crime scene.
The sun was bright with no shape behind the wispy clouds, hovering over the horizon in its ascent while the streets of downtown Tacoma were alive and rerouted with morning commuters. Reporters, curious pedestrians, and a few homeless watched the bustling of police and other officials around the brick theater house. It was noisy with a cacophony of scents that assaulted Levi through the wool barrier, though most was the stale scent of mildew streets, garbage that sifted from the alley, and the salty brine from the nearby Sound.
The crime scene was secured with boundaries of tape and police on the street, and even more so on the inside. They took controlled areas seriously, allowing only those with strict access to enter to preserve the integrity of the crime. When the pair were able to shuffle and flash their ID’s enough times to earn entry, they were finally granted a view of the scene in question.
The team was there along with a swarm of GSIS employees Levi hadn’t recognized. Jean was one of the first to meet them in the aisle that led down the row of seats, offering gloves and shoe covers to avoid contamination.
“What can you tell us?” Erwin asked, slipping the polyethylene protectors over his leather clad feet.
“One of the stagehands was coming in to start working on props and such for a performance for the holidays. Saw the set up on the stage and thought there may have been a project someone else was working on and hadn’t cleaned up. Or that it was a prank. Apparently, it’s pretty common for the theater group to heckle each other, but from what it sounded like it’s not always in good spirits.”
A glance at the back row in the corner revealed a distressed civilian sitting in a chair, bundled in a blanket as someone from the agency spoke to them, crouched to their level.
“So, then what?”
Jean shrugged, looking a mixture of bored and exhausted. “He went over to the vic and touched her before realizing it was a real person. I think his brain was trying to tell him somebody was just really upping the game in prop designs or pranks instead of realizing sooner that she was dead. You’d think the smell would’ve been clue enough, but people act weird in these situations. Try to reason around the truth. He ended up contaminating more of the scene, as you’ll see his footprints in some of the blood.”
The trio started down the walkway getting closer to the stage in question, with every light on that was available in the buildings. The setting was crafted to be the focal point no matter where one stood in the audience, with an upholstered chaise lounge in front of the rear curtains. The grey pallor of the auburn-haired woman draped across it in supine pose, naked and vulnerable, only seemed to glow with so many lights on her. So much that Levi almost missed the propped werewolf looming between the drapes on the other side.
Seeing Connie, the vampiric forensic tech, circling the scene with his camera, Erwin halted on the main floor with Levi to wait for him to finish. They already agreed to not take chances on getting too close to any known vampires and risk overstimulation to trigger Levi. Not that he needed to be closer to the smell to know the woman had been deceased for some time. The gaping throat that threatened her skull from detaching was just another clue to the violence inflicted.
“Looks like another targeted cardiopulmonary method again. Bled out,” Erwin said as Nanaba came up to the edge of the stage and squatted to get closer to their level. Behind her, Nile sent them both an unimpressed glance before motioning to a technician about some labeled evidence on the floor.
“Like the others,” Nanaba replied, “she was killed elsewhere and staged here. Chest has another circle carved into her, but it appears that whoever is taking over for Eric and the others decided to stick with the art theme. Look familiar?”
Levi stared while Erwin mused briefly. The lounge, supine woman, wolf leering over her and something dark and round sitting on her bare stomach.
“Rendition of The Nightmare,” Erwin supplied, though that was useless information to Levi.
Nanaba, however, nodded. “Sticking to classics and well-known pieces. Whether that’s to get our attention, make the messages clear, or they aren’t as well versed in other paintings, it’s hard to say. We have a profiler writing a report of the two recent crimes to help narrow it down for possible motive for our unsub’s behavior. If we’re lucky, we can get a lead out of it.” A figure caught her attention in the sea of people in full white overalls who she waved over. “Hey, Mobes. Did you get an estimation of time of death?”
Moblit strode over, offering Levi and Erwin a nod before answering. “The theater was fixed on the lowest heat setting, which is usual to conserve energy between scheduled events. Given the algor mortis of the body to achieve equilibrium with its surroundings, I have to adjust my original estimations. The rigor, livor, palor, and decomp that she’s currently displaying is roughly 2 days given the environment. There’s been some insects attracted to her, but no oviposition was found yet. I suspect another day and that may have changed.”
“Oviposition?” Levi asked.
Moblit hummed. “Egg laying. I don’t know much about entomology, just the basics of what you see as the body decays further.”
“You can tell that with bugs?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s been studies where cellular breakdown that occurs without morphologic alterations impact the decay process of the body that we humans and Supras can’t detect. The chemicals released attract certain insects and they have a specific timeline of progression that overlaps that of the decay process.”
“No shit?”
“Alright,” Erwin interrupted. “That’s probably something to discuss at another time.”
Nanaba smirked, not bothered by the sidebar. “Marie said they’ll be looking over AFIS and satellite surveillance of the area. Someone already screened the scene with their tablet for a 3D diagram earlier to analyze it in the system. Of course, we won’t get much blood results back for a while, but Shadis says that the case is still of the higher priorities. As of now, we’re just finishing up with the scene before cleaners come in and Mobes bags and tags the body.”
“Hange at the office?”
Moblit nodded. “She’s working two other cases right now, but has a place prepped for our vic.”
Levi ducked his nose into the scarf as a few white overall-wearing techs walked by with plastic bags, wafting the already putrefied smell their way. The stench permeated from the decaying pores, mixing with bowels that had long released along with the stale copper of blood.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Mike standing near the curtains, talking to Eren, and he wondered if they were less affected on that side than right in front of the stage. He had a selfish thought that his clothes would continue to hold the smell after they left, even feared they would never get washed out. Perhaps, that was why Erwin had so many outfits, in case he had to discard them in the local dumpster. He recalled Erwin mentioning that dry cleaning made the smell worse.
It took but a second after the initial stench that something made Levi pause. A hint of stiff rose and rust flirted beneath the decay. It tugged on the string to his limbic system, a signature he immediately recognized, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, his skin breaking out in bumps. But before the scent could fully hook into his pores, it was gone. Levi hadn’t realized his breathing had turned shallow until he tuned back to Erwin and Nanaba’s discussion.
“Looks like Connie is finishing up if you two want to have a look,” she invited, standing from the crouched position.
Erwin spared Levi a glance as he made his way to the stairs on the side, knowing Levi would follow without further prompting. He stuffed his gloved hands in his pockets and ducked his chin to take another inhale of the scarf, barely able to pick out Erwin’s cologne nestled in the fibers.
Careful of the areas marked as evidence, they approached the corpse as the lingering techs backed out of their way. Rich claret drapes at the rear segregated the stage from the back-of-house, with massive gold tassels hanging for elegant decor. There was a beige and salmon ruffled throw beneath the woman’s body, dangling off the edge by her knee, a strange addition but Levi wasn’t sure if it was done intentionally or happened to be on the furniture.
As with the photos he’d seen of other victims, a seal was carved into her chest where blood trailed from what remained of her throat and arms, down to the polished stage floor. It was a titillated position of the woman bathed in white light, stretched over the antique furniture with arms, neck, and head hanging off the cushion. Teeth marks drilled across her limbs as if attacked by a pack of dogs and the mean knife wound to her throat made the skin look serrated. As Levi got closer, he thought he could pick up the scent of ammonia and, at a closer glance at her hair, Erwin gave voice to his thought.
“She dyed her hair red very recently judging from the color of her scalp.”
The ginger tint lingered on her skin, making it look like a poor wig or cap beneath the strands of hair, but it was dried and stylized in a way that proved she hadn’t been murdered mid alteration.
Glancing at the prop of a lycanthrope situated in the fold of the curtains in the background, Levi got the distinct feeling it was staring at him despite its head angling down. There was dried blood painted on its snarling muzzle with something pale and shrunken dangling off a scraggly tooth.
“That’s part of her,” Nanaba explained, gesturing to the woman’s gaping throat. “They pulled a piece off and planted it on there. All the bites look like the same wolven mauling as the other vics, so clearly, they’re not hiding that part.”
“Could be redirecting our attention,” Erwin mused. “Or they’re feeling bold enough to mock.”
“Hard to say right now.”
Their voices drifted into background noise as Levi stepped around Erwin to stand in the center, curious what was positioned on the woman’s stomach.
Just below her breasts was a porcelain dish balanced with a round chocolate frosted cake. There were equally dark cream dollops around the edges with glassy cherries placed on top like little castle turrets. And right in the center of the cake, with a cursive flourish was an “L” piped in with jammy red glaze, sprinkled with cherry pits and chunks looking like gelatinous blood. Just beneath that—as if the final button on a funeral attire, tying the entire scene together in a neat bow--sat a single meringue cookie.
No.
Levi didn’t know if he stopped breathing. Couldn’t even tell if his fingers were numb or if his veins turned to ice. He could feel his heartbeat though, its rhythm turning jagged like a rusted chainsaw starting up. Before he could force himself to retreat from the corpse, to leash his jittery thoughts, Levi’s world seemed to tilt on its axis all wrong and the hue around him felt plunged into a darkroom meant to develop film.
“Oh, New York would be fun! Or maybe we could check out San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge looks so pretty in photos.”
So many shades of red—the same color of stop lights and warning signs. Hostile like scarlet fever and sanguineous oozing wounds. He tried to name all the shades that were purposefully presented in front of his eyes, from the dried blood to the sugary cherries, to the decisive color of the poor woman’s locks. Venetian red, cadmium, Alizarin crimson, flesh ochre rose.
"Aww—big bro!... Come with us!"
Red had heat.
He could feel it warming his gums around his teeth, the way sweat beaded across his brow in the chilly theater. Copper smelt of red. The same that attached itself to vampires, always renewed and strengthened during feedings. There was one now, stronger than the taint of rose and decay, hovering just feet to his left.
Threat.
There wasn’t any logical thought that followed that word. His eyes flicked to his left, halted on the buzzcut head, camera hanging against his chest, talking to someone else. Distracted and exposed like prey.
Suddenly, Levi felt as though he was tripping over air. Gravity pulled at him, as suppressed violence amplified into something familiar. Something he was greedy for. A small plastic tent crunched under his foot, someone was yelling his name, but he was too focused on the fear illuminating the vampire’s face as he tackled him to the ground, sending a punch to the man’s jaw hard enough to break it had he not been a Supra.
Blood splattered his knuckles as a reward, further feeding his senses into overdrive as his mind wove a web of its own design. Protect. Danger. Kill. His thoughts twisted on themselves, contorting into something torturous as his hands found their way around the vampire’s neck and jaw, ready to twist. 1000 lbs. of torque to snap a neck was easy with his strength. Laughably so to think a simple, fast action could dismantle a being that could outlive centuries. The feeling of the hemovore’s life cradled between his palms was natural, and Levi felt unburdened with something that had suffocated him for a long time.
But this wasn't Tybur.
Strong arms locked around his chest and hips before he could twist, hauling him into the air and away from the panicked man on the ground. The grip was like steel on his body, never weakening as he snarled with all feral vitriol which was enough for the people closest to take retreating steps. Erwin continued to drag him away, urgent words beating against his ears and stirring a soft buzz in his mind, barely registering from the shouting of other agents going to aid Connie.
They disappeared behind the curtains where the lights were much dimmer than the stage, swallowing them into a world not bathed in a bloody tint. Once the sight and smells were separated from his focus, Levi fought against the hold again, this time chafed at himself over the loss of restraint as the weight of what happened hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t just the appearance of a vampire near a body that represented Izzy, but more of the idea that Levi was helpless to his instincts, despite all the work to give him back some sense of authority over his life.
Tybur did this. He knew what he was doing, and that sick, fucked up tribute to Izzy was all it took to unravel his illusion of control. It only made Levi lash out because it was easier to hide behind anger than face his powerlessness.
“Enough, Levi!” Erwin’s words penetrated the maelstrom of emotions as he shoved them into a supply closet.
As soon as the light turned on, Levi was spun around and pressed into the closed door with enough force that he had to catch himself and balance on his toes. Erwin’s forearm pinned him across his chest to keep him grounded and anchored, his other hand on the side of Levi’s head with latex fingers twisted unkindly into his hair. The reaper didn’t flinch as Levi’s nails dug into the supple skin of his wrist, not far from drawing blood.
“Settle, Levi, just calm down. You need to stop this.”
The ability to form words escaped him, instead he let out a throaty growl.
“Enough. You’re not fighting anyone. Take a breath and settle. No one is here to hurt you, so breathe.” Levi struggled again, trying to use his legs to win space but Erwin jolted his weight into him to deter any further efforts. “Stop! Just stop and relax, Levi, please.”
A strange, creeping sensation began to tug at the shifter, not unlike a magnetic pull that caused sand to pour into his limbs. It was a dragging impression, towing him beneath ocean waves as his struggles to dislodge Erwin vacillated. Fog rolled behind his eye lids, causing his tongue feel swollen in his mouth, unable to spit venom at the man trapping him.
“Easy. Just like that. Breathe,” Erwin’s voice lulled, low and deep. “You’re ok.”
The daze continued to thicken, even as he was able to focus briefly on Erwin’s eyes, he couldn’t make out the emotion reflecting in the blue. The hand that was threaded in his hair curled tighter into his scalp, somehow keeping him present enough to not slip away completely to the abyss whispering at the back of his mind. He couldn't be sure, but his arms were still attached to his body, but he swore they weren't his own. They didn't feel like they were capable of responding to him.
“Are you still with me?”
He barely registered that the elbow across his chest had changed pressure. It was no longer pinning him to restrict freedom but was holding him up. If Erwin removed himself, Levi was sure his legs would slide out from under him like jelly. Where had all his strength gone?
“Levi?”
“Yeah,” he slurred without actual intention of answering. He felt drunk with a head full of static. His body didn’t feel like it was real anymore, saved for the cold trickle of permafrost fluttering at the tattoo on his arm.
“Good,” there was a pause as the grip in his hair lessened to a gentle comb through his loose strands. “Good. Take your time coming back. I got you.”
Levi stared at nothing as the details around him grew fuzzy, eyes heavy with a mockery of sleep. He tried to focus on Erwin and break through the surface of whatever was pulling him under, but he felt like he was floating in limbo. What the fuck was happening? Was he drugged?
Belatedly, he recalled the last time he felt floaty and pliant, trapped in his body that had barely enough strength to keep his head up.
It was Erwin.
He was doing this to him.
The cold pulsing of the bond on his arm only mocked him further, taunting that not only did Tybur know what strings to pull to make his puppet dance, but Erwin had the ability to box in his own mind. In every sense of the word, Levi was trapped. Control was a fucking joke, and he was the punchline.
The fury that welled within him gave Levi something to hold onto as it pierced the fog, lessening the weight of his limbs. Reasoning told him that Erwin was only trying to help, but the clawing vulnerability he felt in that moment, like a raw nerve exposed to the elements, created a visceral reaction as he shoved Erwin away with all his recovered strength.
Surfacing from the daze so abruptly had the world snapping back into focus with too much clarity and brightness, nearly making Levi sick. Wavering slightly, he fixed Erwin with a glare, bracing his anger against the suit of armor that seemed too broad for the stupid supply closet they were jammed into.
“Don’t fucking—don’t ever--,” his breathing was erratic as his chest went from slow and deep to shallow and fast, flirting with hyperventilating from the abrupt return to reality.
“Levi—”
“Shut up!”
The reaper’s wide eyes hardened as his placating hands dropped to his side. “I’m not going to allow you to hurt my friends, Levi. You know this. Get pissed off with me all you want, but I don’t regret removing you from the situation.”
When Levi only continued to glower and suck in air, Erwin pushed on, although was smart to not close the meager distance that separated them.
“We agreed I’d step in if I needed to at any point you potentially lost control. I understand it’s a lot at once, but you need to reflect on what just happened before you take it out on me.”
“No—You’re not—you’re not listening.”
“I am listening—”
“You’re not!”
Erwin didn’t bother hiding his exasperation with his narrowed gaze, though he tried to take a breath and summon patience before his next response.
It wasn’t the fact that Erwin was frustrated with Levi that had his own anger flickering into panic, but the clear and utter disappointment that laced through Erwin’s body. The thought that Erwin may have had doubts about siding with Levi, maybe even realizing what sort of mess he was bonded to, hurt in a way Levi hadn’t expected. It didn’t matter how frustrated he was at the reaper in that moment, fear was nipping at his heels, whispering he was fucking everything up with the only ally he had.
“You have to explain it then, Levi. And stop shouting at me.”
“Y-you can’t just—you can’t just... just do that! You can’t do that to me! Not out here!”
Erwin raked his gloved hands down his face before meeting Levi’s wild gaze. “Please stop yelling. And not where? What are you talking about?”
“Out of the house—here! You can’t take my awareness away!” Levi felt like his bones were rattling as he started to fully hyperventilate. “I can’t—I need to. Fight. Defend... if something. Happens.”
Black splotches began to enter his vision as he stumbled against the door. There was enough attention on the reaper to see the man’s anger snuffed out by wide-eyed alarm as he lunged forward to catch Levi and help him to the ground. Instantly, he was engulfed by the larger man, tucked into his chest, but the intended comfort only made him feel more suffocated.
“Alright—okay, Levi. Alright. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. Just slow down.”
“Don’t—”
“I’m not. I’m not activating the bond, but you have to slow down. You’re hyperventilating. If you don’t slow your breathing, you’ll pass out. Try to match my breaths.”
“I can’t—I can’t.”
Before Levi could form a sentence, Erwin was turning him around in his lap until he was sitting between his legs with Erwin’s chest to his back. His arms wrapped around Levi’s waist to secure him as he rested his chin on his shoulder.
“Focus on my breathing. Feel it,” Erwin murmured by his ear.
Levi clenched his eyes as he did, zeroing in on the movement pressed against him as Erwin’s chest rose and fell. Deep and slow. A mantra he tried to mimic. It took an unknown span of time before he was able to get his own breaths to align in a way that he was no longer lightheaded, but eventually, it was enough to extract himself from the panic that had taken over. No more black spots trying to suck him into unconsciousness.
“You can’t do that,” he repeated when he had enough control. “You can’t... make me vulnerable near them.”
“Sshh. I’m sorry.” Erwin turned his head, so he was speaking into Levi’s hair. “You’re right. I should’ve given you time to settle on your own instead of forcing you into...that. I’m sorry.”
They sat there well past Levi’s breathing returned to normal, though neither made a move to pull away. The momentary peace was as fragile as cracked glass, any movement or sound likely to shatter it into another fight. Levi used the time to sink deeper into the break of the storm, listening to Erwin’s soft breaths beside his ear, tracking the way he would ever so often lift his head to press his mouth to Levi’s hair, not quite a kiss but the gesture felt no different. He didn’t realize he was leaning further into the man until there was a barely vocalized hum of approval, which made him thankful Erwin was positioned in a way to not see the chill down his neck.
The affection and comfort vaporized the last of his panic, giving way to his recollection of what happened. He knew he fucked up as soon as Erwin had pulled him away from the scene. A quick glance down and the vampire’s blood was drying on the powder blue latex of his gloves as a blatant reminder.
Shit.
He almost killed an innocent person.
Nausea rolled in his gut, and he knew Erwin felt the shuddered breath vibrate through him.
“Hey. Talk me through whatever is getting you worked up again,” he said, just short of a demand despite the gentle delivery. “I can’t let you out there until I know you’re back to yourself.”
“I’m here.”
“Good. What’s upsetting you?”
“What?” Levi huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “Everything. I just fucking lost my shit. I attacked Connie. I almost killed him, Erwin. What isn’t there to be upset about?”
An arm unwounded from his waist and started to brush through his hair, a simple gesture without pain echoes. “We always knew there was a chance for this happening in public. I thought Connie was far enough away that his scent wouldn’t register with you. That was my fault.”
“Stop doing that. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’m such a fucked up, broken mess that I can’t even control my own actions. WMC is right. I’m a fucking danger.”
“You’re not...” Erwin paused giving Levi’s statement appropriate consideration before trying again. “The danger that you present is the conditioning that Tyber instilled in you. While your combative skills lend a risk to others around you, the one with the most to lose is yourself. How is it fair to take the brunt of the blame when your life is on the line with your own instincts being programmed against you?”
“That’s not how they’ll see it.”
“No. Not without evidence against Tybur, but we’re working on that.”
Levi scoffed and gestured to the supply closet’s door at their feet. “I don’t know how to get closer to proving it than what’s out there. The scene is basically his signature in neon lights, and I know your team still won’t find a direct link to him for whatever legal bullshit is required.”
He felt Erwin perk up at his back. “You’re certain Tybur was responsible for it? He didn’t have a member of his coven or humans carry it out?”
Scowling, he tilted his head back, so it was resting on Erwin’s shoulder, glaring down his nose at the door. “No, this was all him. He had help, obviously with the bite marks and maybe the seal, but the rest was him.”
“How are you certain? From what we gathered from the other scenes and the photos you’d reviewed, you never mentioned his actual hand in it.”
Working his throat, Levi felt his jaw clench as he tried to suppress his stronger emotions. He wanted to explain it to Erwin. To tell him just what set him off was more than the smell of decay and a vampire’s proximity. At least, he could take some comfort in knowing it took more to trigger him now than it had before.
“The woman’s hair was dyed on purpose. He wanted your vic to resemble Izzy,” he answered flatly, relieved his voice didn’t waver though he felt it was on the verge of it. He could feel the phantom pain of his wrists shredding open on the shackles that tied him to the floor as the splash of red fountained from her throat while Tybur held her up.
“... I’ve heard that name before. You’ve said it in nightmares.”
“She...” Levi swallowed feeling a sting behind his nose and eyes, but he pushed it down with a few rapid blinks. “She was like my sister.”
This time, a kiss was planted to his temple as the hand carding through his hair retracted and wrapped around his waist, tightening like a seatbelt. The gesture distracted him momentarily, stuttering the recollection as he fleetingly wondered if it was another offer of comfort or something else. He was surprised he hadn’t flinched away from it, nor was he unsettled by what it could mean. In fact, he found it easy to parcel the kiss away for later musing.
“He did it to mock you. This wasn’t just another murder for whatever his narrative is. He did it specifically because he knew you’d see it.”
“But how? He has to have someone working close by if he sent his fucking cronies to GSIS to break me out and to your gleaning. And now this? How did he know I’d be here?”
Erwin sighed and it felt like reluctance more than a revelation. It was enough to have Levi stiffen and turn his head to gaze at the man with narrowed eyes, but Erwin had ducked his forehead onto Levi's shoulder, hiding.
“What? What aren’t you telling me?”
The man was smart enough to not beat around the bush. “When I spoke to him at GSIS, he basically confirmed that without so many words. I’ve been trying to determine who it could entail since then and Hange has been helping. That’s why it’s been mostly her students coming by the house rather than interns and techs.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? It’s not like I would’ve been pissed off. It sounds like something he’d do.”
“Because you have enough to worry about with your recovery. And... I had reliable confirmation that he knows where we live. I knew the threat of him acting on doing something at the cabin would only stress you further.”
His brows dipped as he faced the door, now able to connect the strange behavioral tics Erwin had been displaying in the last week. He felt no smug victory saying the following words. “I told you he wouldn’t let me go so easily.”
“And I told you he could try, but he wasn’t getting you back.”
Levi wanted to find reassurance in that. He really did. There was a sliver of hope that if he tried to trick himself into believing it, he’d be able to, but all it did was highlight how empty the revelation was. “What’s going to happen to me now?”
“Well... I’m sure we’re in for a firm reprimand from Shadis.”
“Just put me back in subspace.”
“Not happening. You got out of it last time; you’re going to suffer with me on the next one.”
The teasing was short lived, a paper plane thrown in the rain only to crash into a soggy mess.
“I don’t know what else will happen,” Erwin replied soberly. “Shadis was already aware this was a possibility. A fight between employees—though infrequent—has happened with nothing more than reprimand. I can make an argument with that and his requirements for the bond to our favor to avoid anything severe.”
Levi knew that ‘severe’ included the involvement of WMC and SRC. The latter was the largest concern and would dictate the decision on his continued living or not. “You’re confident you can convince him.”
“He sort of shot himself in the foot when he made us apply the bond. He had no legal right to do it, so nothing to fall back on.”
The reaper’s confidence did allow the following breaths to leave him easier. While he didn’t have faith that Tybur’s efforts to collect him would be deterred, he believed Erwin had enough sway to keep his neck off the line.
The arms tightened fractionally again just as Erwin planted another soft kiss to his shoulder. “Trust me, Levi. I won’t let anything happen to you... But you are going to be conscious as Shadis rips us a new one.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
He felt the reaper smirk into his shirt and almost felt like reciprocating the gesture when there was a knock on the door.
“Um. Mr. Smith. It’s Sasha.”
“Just a minute.” Erwin lifted his head to whisper to Levi. “Are you ok? Do you need more time?”
Swallowing, Levi shook his head, standing to his feet as soon as Erwin unraveled his arms. He could feel the sweat clinging to cleft of his back and frowned at the wrinkles of his suit, but he at least took comfort in knowing Erwin’s attire wasn’t faring any better.
What a bunch of ‘professional’ assholes, he mused sarcastically.
Erwin opened the door to the wolven on the other side, holding the familiar camera up to them.
“Agent Zacharias said he still wanted Levi’s opinion on the case and wanted to know if the photos would be a better option before the body was removed.”
Erwin glanced at him which he met briefly before shaking his head. “No. I can go back out there. I'm surprised Mike is even letting me stay, to be honest. Is Connie... is he alright?”
Sasha offered a smile that felt genuine. “He’s fine. Broken nose, but he’ll be alright. Agent Zacharias, the missus, explained the situation to him and he’s been taken to medical. But he doesn’t hold it against you. Jean told him to get stronger deodorant so he wouldn't offend you next time.”
Levi was sure deodorant wasn’t the answer, but he didn’t correct her.
“As for Mike, he said you probably saw something that we haven’t and wanted you to take another look if you’re able to.”
“Sure.” He turned to Erwin. “You’ll stay close, right?” You’ll stop me if I lose it?
“Of course.” His hand cupped the back of his neck and squeezed. If it was anyone else, it would feel like a vice. Scruffing him like a leash, but Levi took comfort in Erwin’s hold.
Together they followed Sasha out the rear of the theater and to the stage where most of the forensic technicians had vacated, leaving it to the active agents. A few police had trickled in and eyed Levi as he stepped under the lights, but a squeeze to his nape directed his attention away from the hands hovering over leather belts and holsters.
The four other members of the team stood where Erwin and Levi had, before he lost his composure, each one turning to watch them approach.
Nanaba offered an uptick of her lips as Mike sniffled and dragged his gaze down him as if measuring his sanity. Levi didn’t let it bother him, nodding to Jean and Eren who watched with interest. Jean offered a box of gloves again and it was then Levi recalled his were still bloody. Peeling them off, he stuffed them into his pocket and grabbed a fresh set, though he had no intention of getting closer to the corpse a second time.
“You saw something,” Mike insisted when Levi looked ready. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to waste time drilling Levi on his embarrassing display. “What can you tell us?”
When he didn’t answer right away, working on where to begin with his personal observation, Nanaba took it upon herself to help direct him.
“What’s different about this one from the others?”
Well, that seemed like a safe place to start.
“I think you were right before. The humans you arrested carried their murders out on their own. I don’t know about Hannes with the Marat theme, but I assumed Tybur at least had a hand in it. Maybe not active participating but the rendition is very much his MO. This one,” he nodded to the body. “This one has his name all over it.” A gaudy display.
Erwin supplied his take to support Levi’s justification. “There’s less mutilating from our mystery wolven having influence on here. Like Marat, this scene holds some sort of underlying message. The Nightmare is a prominent painting that romanticized gothic horror. But where the creature or incubus sat on the subject, our unsub put a cake.”
The young wolven agent blew a loose strand of hair from his face that had fallen from his bun. “Baked goods doesn’t really scream gothic horror to me. Seems so damn random.”
“You’d be surprised,” Levi muttered.
The team kept the huddle close and tones low enough for other agents and officers to not be privy to, but even so, Levi felt horribly exposed. His gaze lingered on the crushed yellow evidence marker by the foot of the lounge.
Mike was the next to speak, ignoring Levi’s comment. “It looks like a German Black Forest Gateau. The cherries are especially sour in that region and used to make that specific cake. Some people like to soak the cherries in alcohol.”
“That nose is impressive, but it’s closer to blood Forest Gateau than black.” When all he got was confused glances, he pulled the scarf over his lower face, holding it like a handkerchief. “I’ll bet you money that the cake is baked with blood. Probably substituted the eggs and whatever other ingredients to make it work. I doubt you’ll be able to get any indentifiable DNA from it, but it’s there.”
The team swiveled simultaneously to the seemingly innocent cake in question; eyeing it with the level of caution one does to an unmarked package, wondering what sinister thing it held inside.
“And... how do you know this?” Eren asked.
He must have looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure because Erwin’s hand tightened reassuringly on his nape.
“Tybur prides himself on luxury and elegance. Should see his fucked-up twists on supposed neoclassical art.”
“Meaning what?”
“He recreates old paintings to have Supras in them. All morbid and erotic. The man’s a hedonist at heart. Usually, uses them to show off at dinner parties where he has his chefs make elaborate dishes with blood so his vampire buddies can still get nutrients with their victims.”
Jean seemed skeptical at that as he frowned. “I figured a man like him would have vessels for free feedings as entertainment.”
“He does. But they’re all volunteers. Most of the people that come to his parties are esteemed assholes looking to stroke each other’s egos, cocks, or whatever else to get off on. The vessels are treated as dessert more than main course like in the past. It's what makes the dinner experience more memorable.”
“So where does he get the blood for the dishes then?”
Levi fixed him with a grim stare. “The subjects of his paintings, the dead wolvens from the pits, or whatever other poor fuck he can get his claws into.”
The team seemed visibly sickened by that thought, connecting the level of sadism to the man that had smiled so charmingly in GSIS halls.
Nanaba spoke to Mike, “We’ll need to tell Nile so he knows to break down the ingredients in the cake, see if he can find blood.”
“Is that possible?” Jean asked.
“It should be,” Erwin answered. “Kastle-Meyer or luminol tests are used to detect blood in food by locating iron in hemoglobin. While it may not determine if it’s human or not, it should provide enough evidence to support what Levi is saying.”
Mike sent him a crunched side-eye. “You’ve been hanging out with Hange too much, my friend. Mama Zoe would be proud to hear you educating the class on hemoglobin.”
“Please don’t tell her," Erwin grimaced.
“Oh, I’m going to,” then to Levi, he explained, “If you think you’ve seen her energy level at a 10, you’ve not. I think the most you’ve seen is maybe a 4.9.”
“Great. Make sure I’m not around when she learns of Erwin being his usual nerd self.”
Another squeeze to his nape, this time the playfulness was evident. “I resent then statement.”
Levi didn't have anything snarky to say in response, just grateful that Erwin wasn’t asking the personal questions about Tybur’s scene that he was sure the reaper was brimming with. If he did it in the car or cabin, at least they would be out from under everyone’s attention.
Unfortunately, Eren took it upon himself to ask, bringing them back to the topic.
“How do you know so much about this? About the cake?”
Internally cursing the young wolven, he supposed there really wasn’t any getting away from it. There were some heavy accusations Levi was throwing around and if he wanted them to believe him, he needed to shell out some evidence as to why.
“I was usually brought out for the dinner parties. Not uh, to participate, but to be put on display in a gilded cage or leashed somewhere, depending on which form I was in. Mocked and humiliated, mostly.” He could see their faces fall at his admission, but he pressed on, eyes darting absently to a far-off spot before he lost his nerve to continue. He wasn't telling them to earn pity. “Tybur had a habit of starving me after a fight for days, knowing that eventually, if he waited long enough, I’d be famished to the point of willingly eating whatever blood goods was left over from the party. Table scraps."
He paused, working the nerve to continue while staring at the spot on the floor.
"The bastard was always tickled as fuck when I gave in... I’m, uh, sure you’ve noticed the letter on the cake...”
Yeah.
He was glad he couldn’t see their faces as an uncomfortable silence fell over them. If only they knew sweets weren’t the worst he’d eaten to avoid starvation. But even now, he couldn’t bring himself to give that fractured part of his soul voice.
***
It shouldn’t have come to a surprise that the day was not done throwing a wrench at Levi’s fragile walls. After Levi gave the team the information needed, Erwin was quick to usher them out of the theater, telling them that they would meet back at the office later that afternoon. A few hours of reprieve to allow Levi time to collect himself seemed a reasonable request.
Unfortunately, when they poured out of the main floor into the theater lobby, they were met with more officers loitering and Nile talking the ear off the weary looking Chief of Police, Pixis. Erwin paused briefly behind Levi, muttering to himself why Pixis was in Tacoma just as the pair turned their attention to them.
Whatever the reason was, Levi knew they were about to find out.
“Chief Pixis,” Erwin said first, taking the initiative to feel out the conversation when both pairs closed the distance to each other. “I hadn’t expected to see you here.”
“Tacoma’s precinct asked that I come by and take a look, primarily due to having some involvement with GSIS and this case already,” he answered good naturedly, holding a coffee with a flamboyant hot pink design.
From what Erwin had told Levi, the old man was a professional flirt and judging by the coffee, he was sure the officer frequented one of the many bikini baristas before coming here. As if sensing his gaze, Pixis’ beady eyes glanced at Levi through wrinkled scrutiny but if he had something to say about him, he kept it to himself.
“Nile was just filling me in on the scene while we waited.”
“Was he now?” Erwin asked though there was a tension threading beneath his tone. “Well, Moblit is about to bag the body if you want to take a look before then.”
“Were you two leaving?” Nile accused, more than asked. “Did you speak with the Director yet?”
“Seeing as he’s not here, no. I haven’t.”
“Are you heading to the office now then? Pretty sure he’s expecting you.”
The way Nile was standing close to Pixis and blocking their view of the front door sent Levi’s hackles up. It didn’t help that the spindly man was unashamedly glaring at him. Erwin must have read the apparent cagey body language as well as he shifted on his feet beside Levi.
“You have something to say, Nile?”
“Aside from the obvious?”
“For the sake of clarity, please. Don’t hold back.”
The man ripped his gaze up to the fellow reaper’s, and his eyes squinted further. “Your partner attacked one of my technicians. He nearly killed him. I already informed the Director of it, and he said he’d be addressing it with you two, but I don’t think he should be allowed out of here unrestrained.”
“That’s not your call to make,” Erwin retorted firmly. “What happened was an accident and Director Shadis is already aware of potential setbacks seeing as Levi is in the middle of rehabilitation. It was an unintentional mistake that’ll be addressed—”
“Your little at-home therapy sessions is not real rehabilitation, Erwin. You’re giving yourself far too much credit in thinking you’re qualified. What he needs is to be admitted to a WMC approved facility. He’s a goddamn liability.”
“What he needs,” Levi cut in, “is to not be spoken about like he isn’t standing right here.”
Nile planted his attention back onto him, even stepping closer to posture his height into a form of intimidation. “You’re not even going to apologize? Where’s your remorse? Do you even have any?”
“My apology isn’t for you. It’s for Connie.”
“And you think that’s enough? Planning on telling him sorry for nearly snapping his neck and all will be forgiven?”
“No, but it’s a fucking start. I’ll do whatever I need to make it right by him.”
“What a fucking joke,” Nile barked out a laugh. “If you think I’m allowing you anywhere near him without cuffs, you’re out of your goddamn mind. Whose to say you won’t attack him again next time you meet?”
“Nile,” Erwin apprised, “take a breath. We don’t want a scene here.”
“Too fucking late for that. You never should’ve brought him here.”
“See if you feel that way after you start processing the evidence,” Levi snarked under his breath, but they were all well within hearing distance, clustered together as they were.
It was enough for Nile’s patience to snap as his hand lashed out, seizing the front of Levi’s blazer and yanking him forward to sneer something in his face. Whatever it was, he never got the chance to spit it out as Erwin responded by yanking Nile’s hand off him and pushing his bulk in the mere feet of space between them.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Nile. Or someone may think you’re being a hypocrite berating Levi with physical altercations.”
“Is that how you’ve been dealing with his so-called rehabilitation?” Nile snapped, wrist still clamped in a vice in Erwin’s hold. “Too much positive reinforcement and no boundaries? He’s a fucking menace. Maybe add some damn discipline to his sessions, huh?”
“Hey! What the hell is going on?” a female’s voice shouted. All eyes turned in the direction of the front doors to see a woman trotting over with white overalls and the ouroboros logo on the sleeve. Her hair was pulled into a sleek bun, but Levi recognized her instantly as she forced herself between Erwin and Nile. “Stop this, right now. You two fucking know better than to start your crap here.”
Erwin retracted from Nile but not before giving him a petulant shove back that only made the other reaper take half a step.
“Marie’s right,” Pixis conceded unhelpfully. Levi shot him a side-eye, wondering why the guy was even here in the first place if all he was going to do was watch. Then again, what was the frail human going to do between two reapers who clearly had history. “I’d suggest we calm down and take this elsewhere. Reporters are outside and we don’t need to give them a reason to turn this into a circus.”
“I told you I’d handle it,” Marie hissed to Nile, flicking a glance to Erwin though her hand remained on her husband’s chest.
“That man needs to be arrested for attempted murder,” Nile spat, jamming a finger a Levi's direction.
A few more officers' heads turned in his direction and Levi felt his stomach drop to his feet, but he kept his outward appearance unmoved. It was as if he was watching the manifested fork in the road arguing right in front of him. Two paths as a result of his actions lined out in real-time. One with reprimand and likely a shorter leash, the other a cold cell, trial, and needle.
Fuck, this was bad.
“If he was in his right mind, I’d agree with you,” Erwin retorted. “But that’s not the case, and you’re not the Director. So, I suggest you stay in your lane.”
“Fuck you, Erwin. You’ve always been a manipulative piece of shit, getting your way. The Director won’t let him get away with this.”
“Enough! Both of you!” Marie scolded, pushing Nile away from Erwin a few steps which he allowed. “I thought we were past these stupid spats. Let’s go. We need to get back to the lab.”
Of course, Nile wasn’t ready to go quietly, eager to get one last word in where it would hurt. “That wolven of yours merely had his execution paused, Erwin. Do not make the mistake in thinking it was excommunicated.”
In the corner of his eye, Levi saw Erwin’s hand splay out at his side, which he expected to clench in a fist instead, until he realized just what Erwin was tempted to do. Looping his fingers to the inside of the reaper’s sleeve, he gave the man a discreet tug to break his iron stare from his co-workers’ retreating backs, bringing him back from the edge of doing something stupid.
“Somethings never change,” Pixis commented wistfully, as if not noticing that a scythe was very nearly manifested beside him. Instead, the man lifted the hideous pink leopard print cup to his bristly mustache and took a long sip.
Erwin sucked in a deep breath, raking his hand through his hair, but didn’t say anything. Levi didn’t have much to add to the interaction either, distracted by the bloating feeling of fight or flight simmering in his chest. The older officer seemed unperturbed by the tension that laden their corner of the lobby as he resurfaced from his coffee.
“He’s not wrong, Erwin. Levi’s not out of the woods yet regarding capital punishment. I can say, however, that GSIS has always handled matters differently than other law agencies, being directly connected to Supra Regulatory Commission. That being said, Shadis will be issuing some form of punishment, but I heavily doubt it’ll be death penalty. May serve some time, though, just to make a point,” he said the last part to Levi.
Exhaling slowly, the shifter crossed his arms and gave a noncommittal shrug, hiding the rising anxiety. “I’ll take what punishment it expected.”
Bold words for someone currently unburying escape plans from the back of his mind.
“I believe,” Erwin finally spoke, still terse but level, “that once Shadis realizes how this crime scene was personalized toward setting Levi off, he’ll be empathetic to his circumstances. There’s already been noticeable improvement between Levi’s associations with vampires that had this been a usual murder, I’m certain we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”
“Personalized, you say?” The look the old man gave Levi was one of curious interest. “How so?”
Thankfully, Levi was spared from answering as Erwin abridged, “The unsub staged the victim to look like someone Levi knew and lost.”
“Ah, I see,” Pixis drawled slowly. “That does put things in perspective then.” A pause. “So, that means you believe you have some connection to the killer?”
Levi wasn’t sure how to answer that, but again Erwin took over.
“You know who I’ve suspected shortly after coming on the case, Pixis. How I came by meeting Levi. It would be the same.”
“Hm. And do you believe this scene, being personalized as it was, may provide some of that evidence the others have been lacking?”
“One can hope. Levi has been helpful in adding his insight further into our suspect.”
“Be careful how you proceed with that. Too much insight can turn into prejudice and distort any evidence you’ve collected. That’s how guilty parties have been known to go free with an argument of confirmation bias, evidence suppression, and even entrapment.”
“I’m aware. We’re being mindful of what we consider and what is explained.”
Levi felt that maybe they were pushing their luck a bit on that, but kept quiet.
“Speaking of,” Erwin went on to say, keeping his tone low so only Pixis could hear, “there’s been an admission from said suspect about Levi and myself being under surveillance.”
“Aside from your supervisor and SRC?”
A nod. “Sounds like within the agency or somewhere close. Levi’s transition from the shelter to working under contract has been tracked and monitored by him, amongst other things. Obviously, the scene inside is evidence of that.”
Pixis contemplated the reaper for a drawn moment before nodding. “It’s worth looking into. I’ll keep an ear to the ground for anything suspicious.”
“I appreciate that.”
Any further discussion regarding the possible mole was cut short as Erwin’s phone started to ring. Plucking it from his coat, he scowled at that name.
“It’s Shadis. We should be going.”
Pixis dipped his head and lifted his ugly coffee at Levi. “Good luck, son. Keep me posted.”
***
Present
Things were progressively looking worse.
After the very one-sided chewing out on the phone, in which Levi and Erwin hurried to their car while the muffled voice chattered off reprimand after reprimand on the line, they found themselves driving to the cabin. Apparently, Shadis did not want to see Levi for an explanation or to hand out punishment. In fact, he wanted the discussion to be solely between him and Erwin and had so kindly crowbarred in a full hour dedicated to their inevitable meeting.
As a result, Erwin had no other choice but to drop Levi off at the cabin. Having him wait in the ME lab while Hange and Moblit were busy with bodies (one of which resembled Levi’s close companion) was far from a sane option.
“Keep your phone on you. If anything happens, call me. Go to the neighbor’s if you have to. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Erwin had been hesitant to leave him alone, especially with the non-verbal threat of Tybur knowing where they lived, but there was nothing to do about it. Truthfully, a part of Levi hoped Tybur would show up to collect. Maybe he could finally put these matters to rest once and for all by having his prey come to him.
But as five minutes turned into sixty, then continued on, Levi’s agitation only grew, just as his adrenaline began to teem in his veins, and restlessness urged him from the couch. No matter what sort of distraction he tried to sink into, the events of the day and the quiet of the cabin began to suffocate him.
“You belong to me, Levi. I am your God...”
He was on his feet before he could realize it, pacing out his energy along the hardwood floors. There was a moment of consideration of shifting and taking off into the woods, but he knew once he started running, he wouldn’t stop until he was far from Erwin’s property and trespassing into someone else's. Maybe until he hit up public or national lands, and at that point, would he even return?
“I admit, dear boy... I’m excited to see how you develop after this.”
He wanted to scream, could feel it building and building in his throat, his lungs tightening to let out all the oxygen in one go. It felt acidic in his chest, only adding to the belligerent need to lose control and let out his frustrations. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. In fact, it had helped him during the fighting rings, aiding in directing his wrath on whatever poor fuck was stuck in the pit with him. It was both horrendous and wonderful, painful and exhilarating, that steady rising temper of his that was so often shoved out of existence.
Every time he was reminded of Izzy and Furlan’s death, that toxicity churned in his gut and burned the roof of his mouth. The taunting of the woman’s body, the damn cake. It felt worse than his nightmares because it was real and mocking. The bastard was somewhere, watching the news and laughing at him.
Was this going how Tybur wanted? Did he plan on Levi losing control and attacking the closest threat, sending his already tremulous future closer to the inevitable edge? If he wanted Levi dead all this time, why not just kill him? Why allow another third-party entity have that honor? Just because Levi wished for death when he was under Tybur’s control, so he denied it? And now that he wanted to live, he was going to take that from Levi too?
Or was it something else?
It had to be. The man played games with people’s lives like it was his right to do it. Like he was a God amongst mortals, building a following within world leaders and dismantling covens that grew too strong to pose a challenge.
What did he want with Levi? Why couldn’t he let go of his childish need to keep his broken toy in his possession?
Always taking away the things I love so my focus is only on you.
It had to be the reason. Tybur didn’t care if Levi loathed him with every microscopic cell of his body, so long as he was the subject of Levi’s attention. He flourished in the hatred aimed at him. Whatever the result of Levi’s future after the events of that day, it was safe to assume that Tybur already had a plan to follow it up with.
His power writhed like a pile of worms coiling in his chest, pummeling him into an emotional pulp as the long-buried memories infiltrated the forefront of his thoughts. And he hated it. That overwhelming feeling of directionless wrath that was closer to a poison than being productive, which only infuriated him more.
Not trusting himself with the blank television or the many throwable objects around him, Levi stalked toward his bedroom, deciding to wear down the carpet as he paced.
The need to expel the growing violence was consuming him with no outlet as images flashed of Izzy unable to scream while her mouth gasped for air only to gurgle on blood. Or remembering the fucking crystal bowl beneath her to collect her life source as she was held up by her hair, and Tybur’s fucking heartless smile...
Tears were streaming down his face. The only way he noticed was the last spin on the carpet had caused Levi to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser. Bloodless pallor, eyes wild, wrinkled suit, and the stench of death that he’d gone nose blind to. A far cry from the put-together self he had seen the last time he looked in the mirror before walking out that morning.
And all of it was the careful work of Tybur.
He couldn’t contain the anger any longer as his fist sailed toward the mirror. The impact barely registered across his knuckles as it instantly spiderwebbed out to the frame holding it. And just like that, the floodgates were opened. The levees broke and there was nothing stopping the tide of his rage.
In a furious shout, he knocked off the books and kindle from the dresser table, ripping drawers out when that wasn’t enough, and tossed them across the room. The wood slammed into the opposite wall, clothes falling in heaps on the floor and holes were punched into the plaster. The side table was shoved over and stomped on until it splintered to pieces and--when there was nothing else to destroy in the sparse room--Levi finally let out a rageful scream to dispel all the pent-up energy until his throat felt raw.
After the mere minute of his outpour of emotions, he backed into the nearest wall and crumpled to the floor. His chest heaved shakily as he took in the destruction around him, not feeling better or guilty, only numb and empty. The silence pressed in on him, causing a sense of vacancy in the cabin that was usually filled with Erwin moving around in the kitchen, the tapping of keys, television's chatter, or even the soft music from the speaker. Now it was nothing but his uneven breaths. Staring unblinkingly at the opened door, he flexed his split knuckles, hoping the pain would give him some satisfaction, but all it did was echo around in his hollow core.
Even as the lights flickered from his fluctuating power, and the shift in the atmosphere made it feel like it throbbed with energy, he felt absolutely nothing.
Notes:
Sorry for the delay. I really wanted to take my time on this chapter as a lot happened, and a lot is about to follow up. Just had to make sure I wasn’t missing important details, and I gave the appropriate dedication to each section.
Thanks for your patience with these barely weekly updates 😅 I’m trying!
Also, thank you for all the amazing support and feedback! You really keep me motivated to finish this story. Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 26: Unwinding Road
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
“Remember what I said about career suicide? Is this where I willingly hand you the gun or should I just do it myself?”
“That seems dramatic, even for you, Director.”
“It never ceases to amaze me that no matter how deep in the muck you find yourself in, your preservation is always absent. One would think you wouldn’t be snarking off to me after what happened at the theater.”
“You’re probably right. But until you hear more than whatever Nile told you, I think I’m in my right to be a little guarded with this interaction.”
“You are aware I don’t need to know your side, or better yet Levi’s side, of the story to make a decision, right? The fact that it happened at all is enough grounds for punishment.”
“So, is that how this will go, then? You could’ve just told me your decision over the phone if that's the case. Saved us all the wasted time.”
“You’re a goddamn headache, you know that?”
The cab of the SUV was thick with the aroma of takeout, enticing his empty stomach in the cozy heated seats. It was a bit early in the evening for dinner, but Erwin and Levi had skipped lunch and after the strenuous day, he figured a lazy supper in would do them some good.
As he drove to the cabin, he checked his phone for the umpteenth time, finding only a message from Mike and three from Hange. He was a bit surprised that the vampire hadn’t attacked his phone network with a hundred missed calls, as he was certain she had heard what happened between Connie and Levi. Word spread faster than disease in GSIS, as Supras were some of the worst with gossip.
“As I’ve told you before, Levi is expected to serve the agency honorably and without admonishment. How would you describe his actions today?”
“The result of manipulation from our unsub. A compulsion, if you want to be technical about it.”
“Compulsion... You’re saying Levi attacked Connie unprovoked against his conscious wishes?”
“If you’d allowed Levi to speak for himself, you’d find that’s exactly what we’re saying. That crime scene wasn’t just another C.B. tally. It was a message to Levi specifically.”
Shadis expelled a long sigh. “Please tell me there’s more to that argument than the ‘L’ on the cake.”
“There is.”
The crunch of gravel beneath the tires was a comforting sound as he turned into his discreet driveway. A few pebbled tings off the wheel well kept him from speeding any more than necessary, despite his impatience to get back to Levi sooner.
He tried to call the grim after leaving GSIS, and as usual there wasn’t an answer. That didn’t stop his concerns from spiking that something had happened, regardless of Levi’s habitual dismissal of the phone in the past. Erwin didn’t understand the grim’s aversion to the device, but it was obviously time to have yet another talk about why it was important to use it appropriately.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I will consider it. But,” a pause to let that one word carry the severity of what was to follow, “if Connie doesn’t feel safe with him around, we’re revisiting this, and I can’t guarantee what will happen if he chooses to press charges. It’s out of my hands and I will be siding with Connie over you and Levi. Is that clear?”
“I understand.”
“Good. In the meantime, take the day. I expect both of you here first thing in the morning for a debrief of the case, and at that time, after I’ve spoken with Connie, you’ll have your answer regarding Levi’s future.”
As much as he wanted to bring home hot food and a side of good news to Levi, he was sadly faced with a postponement of a decision on his life. He didn’t need to ponder it much to know that neither of them would be getting much sleep later that night.
Soon enough, the gravel road and early winter darkness gave way for the headlights to illuminate the face of the cabin. Turning the SUV to the right, he pulled into the usual spot beside the old pick-up, already free of his seatbelt before putting the vehicle in park. Leaning to the passenger seat, he looped his hands through the plastic bags and pushed the door open, eyeing the living room lights and dormant television through the window.
Levi was probably lounging on the sofa with his nose buried in a book for distraction, or soaking in the tub. That’s what Erwin told himself as he approached the front door and found it locked as he left it. Not that a lock would’ve stopped Tybur or his sycophants from entering if they wanted, but it’d give Levi notice and time to prepare if the door was suddenly busted in.
Stepping inside, the prior relief was immediately guillotined as a foreboding taste of wrongness hit him past the threshold. There was a heavy miasmic dread hanging in the atmosphere, a feeling that had his palm tingling for his scythe. The sofa was empty and a peek down the hallway proved the bathroom door was open and dark.
Without discarding his shoes or jacket, Erwin set the keys and take-out on the kitchen island; his panic was only soothed enough by the sound of something scrapping in the guest room. Forcing himself not to jog to the doorway, he started as casually as his feet would carry him to the corridor. The hall was seemingly normal at the mouth of it, until a meter or so in, there was a distinct and gut-punching change.
Welted plaster walls, blistering paint. A few picture frames appeared warped as if left out in the weather where rain and sun eroded the wood’s integrity. Glancing at his WWII photo, the glass had taken on a sepia tint in the corner from some sort of thermal stress or soot that emitted from the worst of the frame’s impairment. The closer he got to the bedroom, the more obvious the damage was on either side of the walls, kicking his pulse up like a war drum.
Despite wanting to call out, to learn what reasonable explanation there surely was for this, Levi’s name was stuck on his molars as he cautiously approached the door. It wasn’t common for him to face a situation that had him holding his breath, but as he prepared for what he was about to see, he found his lungs stilted.
Inside the room, Levi was there. Unharmed. Alone. Safe.
A single breath released smoothly only for the next to stutter as he took in the entirety of the room--or what was left of it.
There was a trash bag on the floor. Three to be exact with one still open and hungry. The term ‘broken furniture’ didn’t do the damage justice as it was disassembled so spectacularly, no amount if Ikea manuals would help one distinguish dresser drawers from the side table. There were dents and holes in the drywall, some sharp angled from tossed objects, others were holes from fists. The curtains and blinds fared worse as they resembled much of the heat warped hallway with soot and wrinkled appearance, as if trying to flinch from a fire. The bed was a mess of debris but relatively untouched, not that he could chalk that up to being good or bad. It just was.
After cataloging the apparent destruction, his gaze circled to Levi who avoided glancing in his direction. He swept splintered wood and glass closer to the garbage bag, and it was then that Erwin realized the mirror was also shattered. Blood crusted the grim’s knuckles, the maroon long-sleeve shirt was in disarray and untucked from his pants with top buttons undone and a tear at the seam. Levi’s hair was messy like he’d been fisting it, and there was redness around his eyes which stayed fixed on the broken things at his feet.
“What happened?” he asked, voice strained as his body tried to decide whether to enter the room or not. He couldn’t decide if he was upset, worried, scared, or frustrated. Probably a cocktail of all of it.
Levi continued to sweep, the sound grating in the stiff emptiness between them. After a handful of seconds of avoiding the question, he replied, “I’ll find a way to repair and replace everything.”
Yeah, there was a fat chance that anything was being salvaged and repaired from that disaster. But Erwin was wise to keep that comment to himself.
“I don’t care about that,” Erwin retorted, feeling aggravation gain the lead on the other emotions. “I’m concerned about you—what happened here? Forget the damn furniture for a moment.”
Levi stopped sweeping but his hands twisted on the handle as if trying to strangle it. “Just let me clean the mess. We can talk afterwards.”
Erwin lingered in the doorway, debating whether to ignore Levi’s request, or push through the walls the grim was reconstructing around him with the apparent rubble at his feet. It was no surprise that he chose not to relent. There was no way he was going to give up ground to Levi’s stubbornness when they’d come so far and it was obvious the man was barely keeping it together.
Braving the thrashed territory, he strode in with frail confidence, approaching the wary grim who visibly stiffened. But he didn’t retreat. Didn’t flinch. Even as Erwin enveloped him and the damn broom in his arms, some part of Levi was tolerant of the closed distance. But only just.
As he predicted, there was also some resistance as Levi shoved against him, protesting to leave him be and get off. Erwin ignored it, recognizing the lack of strength in Levi’s confrontation, the way his hands gripped into Erwin’s clothes and pushed, but never released the fabric. He had no words to offer Levi. No promises or reassurances to combat the man’s fear or offset the destruction done to the house. All that mattered was Levi knowing he wasn’t alone. That Erwin was there for him, and they’d get through it together.
Eventually, the name calling and curses tapered as Levi allowed himself the comfort Erwin was offering, burying his head into his chest and holding on.
***
Thirteen hours was barely enough time to recover from the events the night prior. Even less when most of those hours were spent in uncomfortable silence in the living room, neither catching more than snippets of sleep at a time, yet pretending otherwise. The only thing that kept it from turning completely awkward was Levi being in his hellhound form, curled in a ball of pitch fur beside Erwin on the floor. He had yet to bring up the option of migrating to one of the rooms for sleep as an alternative.
7:46 a.m. found the pair entering the bullpen where the stragglers of the team were following behind, carrying coffee to kickstart their day like a boot to the face. Every one of them appeared exhausted as they dragged their feet into the room with just barely enough life to not look like zombies. Must have been the full moon coming up; a bit of superstition and truth in Eren and Mike’s case.
Shadis was posted beside the whiteboard as he observed each person taking a seat. The atmosphere was not unlike standing under the weather eye of a drill instructor, searching for a mistake to pounce on. He was on high alert, taking charge of the meeting instead of leaving it to Nanaba to run, which wasn’t usual most days. But given the escalation of murders, and Levi’s slight episode on scene, it was easy to see why the Director was not letting anything occur without his supervision until the waters calmed.
Nanaba’s team was present and accounted for, along with Moblit in Hange’s place. Nile and Marie were there for their respective departments, though Sasha and Connie were notably absent. No doubt researching the ever-growing tasks from not only the C.B. case but numerous others.
That worked out for Levi, as he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to face up to his mistakes just yet. Everything still felt raw and tremulous to issue a meaningful apology and make anything right by Connie. His brain was under the effects of fatigue from the day prior which only increased ten-fold when Nanaba began reporting their findings.
“The victim’s name is Isabella Whitlock, 23, student studying to becoming an Ornithologist in Portland. Only child with surviving mother who we’ve spoken with yesterday afternoon...”
The rest became white noise. Nothing more than outside static as Levi stared blankly at the table, retreating inwards to separate himself from listening.
Of course, Tybur wouldn’t let any detail within his control go to waste. He picked an innocent girl that was close to his Izzy and modified her to look the part. From appearance all the way to her damn name. Fucking cunt.
There were some questions aimed in his direction; something about how far Tybur’s hunting grounds extended if he went all the way to Oregon. Or if Coven members reached across state borders often.
“It’s only hypothetical, sir,” Mike amended after the warning from the Director about objectivitity. “I know we don’t have enough evidence to accuse or officially suspect it’s Lord Tybur.”
Luckily for Levi, Erwin was there to lobby out answers and possible explanations to investigate further into such leads. There wasn’t much information Levi had that differed in that department of knowledge, seeing as Levi was usually the receiver of said bounty, not on the actual hunting faction.
The autopsy report came up next, along with the summary of evidence that was not in a long queue waiting to be analyzed. The extensive queries, like the demanding DNA data, were still waiting its turn for processing. A never-ending line for the appropriate machines that every case needed for some reason or other. Fortunately, with the cake having a fleeting shelf-life, that part was bumped to highest priority.
“Blood was found in the cake, and while the samples are beyond compromised from the contaminations of ingredients and baking, we were able to confirm its human,” Marie explained, much to the grim expressions circling the table. “Won’t be able to distinguish more than that, I’m afraid.”
A few glances at his direction again, but Levi was far from shocked to be proven correct. He didn’t need fancy machines or degrees to know how Tybur’s games worked. They wouldn’t find any sort of smug satisfaction from him.
“So, no chances on finding out who the blood came from or if they’re alright or reported missing,” Eren concluded as Shadis sighed.
“Take another sample and try again,” the Director instructed. “I want to be entirely certain it wasn’t a misreading.”
“Yes, sir,” Marie conceded, appearing like she would rather do anything else.
“Smith. Levi. Did you see anything new with the seal on our newest vic?”
Reluctantly, Levi extracted the last bit of himself from his thoughts to give the table his attention. Between everything happening yesterday, he and Erwin had little time to spare to dedicate to reviewing the butchered circle. The bulk of it was done on the drive to the city where Erwin handed Levi the phone to scroll through the photos sent by Mike. As such, he was the person that had studied them the most, thus having to practice his least favorite activiy: Public speaking.
For the briefest seconds, he toyed with the idea that Erwin did it on purpose. The concept of Levi reporting new information to the team under the guise of it only being him that had reviewed the evidence, as if it would further prove Levi’s worth to the case. Show off and demonstrate his value which they wouldn’t get if he was arrested or dead.
Yup, that sounded like a strategy right out of Erwin’s playbook.
“Sure. I noticed there were a few new developments with it,” Levi led with, while slouching into his chair rather than sitting stiffer. “I’m positive they’re attempting a containment circle, but for what, I’m not sure. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all seal to keep something confined. It can become pretty messy and complicated trying to trap different entities. Plus, there’s consideration for the container you’re using.”
“Do you suspect our unsub is genuinely attempting some sort of witchcraft as their end goal?” Shadis asked. “Up until now, you and Smith have suspected they weren’t taking the seals serious enough or were too sloppy and uneducated in the construction.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Levi shrugged. “You have how many victims for the case so far?”
The Director scowled, but Nanaba interjected, “The seals started with Eric. Whoever it is that’s taken up the mantle now has adopted the seals into their tableau to ensure it’s connected to the first killings. I’m suspecting they’re being neater about it rather than aiming to make it functional.”
“Which you could be right,” Levi conceded, “but that doesn’t make them any less effective.”
Eren sat up in his chair. “Are you able to tell what they could contain based on the victim and the runes already in place?”
“No. Not with what they’ve accomplished so far. The cardinal corners of the seal are still indistinguishable.” When all he got around the table was confused or lost looks, he waved it off. “Never mind. Anyway, that’s not the problem with the seals that you need to consider. We don’t know if the person doing it is, as Nanaba put it, just taking more pride in the work and continuing Eric’s addition to the crimes, or if they're trying to take it seriously and attempt evocation while they’re at it. They could be opportunists looking to experiment while given access to bodies to do so. Then, there’s the third option that perhaps they do know what they’re doing and only making incomplete seals to not activate them, in which case, how long will that last until they decide to make it work?”
“If they decide to make it work,” Jean offered. “Even if they know seals, they don’t seem to have a reason to use them. Aside from the victim’s soul, what else could they contain?”
“A demon.”
A tense blanket of stillness fell over the room before Nile scoffed.
“A demon? You can’t be serious.”
Levi fixed him with squinted eyes that didn’t quite reach a glare. He was trying to behave. “Why not? It’s not as uncommon as you believe.”
“Frequency isn’t the point. Why would the Cascade Butcher want a demon summoned?”
“You should listen better. I never said they did. Just said they could contain one.”
“I highly doubt that’s the reason—”
“Enough,” Shadis cut in, tone admonishing like a scolding parent. He turned to Levi and straightened. “So, you’re saying more than a soul can be contained with such seals?”
“... I would imagine so,” Levi huffed irritable, tired of the conversation but willing to continue. He told himself that his reluctant cooperation didn’t have anything to do with Erwin’s knee and foot bumping into him under the table in encouragement. “But remember, my understanding is limited. What I do know is that if it’s a powerful being, such as a demon, the seal wall and active energy in the seal itself must be enough to attract it and withstand the power it’s holding. Slapping together a bunch of symbols in hopes of overwhelming whatever you’re collecting could cause more problems by becoming destructive. And the same goes for combining seals on top of one another. They would feed off their own energies and may not even work as intended for the subject.”
Shadis, despite his bullheadedness and fragile pride, seemed a mix of intrigue and suspicious after Levi’s reasoning. Not that Levi expected much else, but those weren’t the impressions he was hoping to stir. Too much interest could put him in uncomfortable positions, and suspicion seemed the worst reaction given his undecided future. Unfortunately, it appeared someone else thought it was a valid response to have.
Nile folded his arms over his chest and scrutinized Levi from across the table. “You sure know a lot about seals. And if this latest crime scene was directed at you, that makes me wonder to what end.”
Erwin shifted in his seat. “What are you getting at, Nile?”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Erwin. Playing stupid doesn’t suit you.”
“Nile,” Marie warned in a somewhat hushed tone, though everyone heard it. “Stop.”
Nanaba didn’t have many qualms about the rising animosity as she braced an elbow on the table from the other side of Erwin, propping her head on her hand. “No, I’m curious what he has to say. Why don’t you share with the rest of the class?”
Nile was all too eager to oblige as he sat forward. “I’m not the only one that sees this, right? Think about it. Levi knows a lot about evocation runes, he knew about the blood in the cake, he claimed the woman was meant to represent someone who was his kin... Even if the unsub is Lord Tybur, you have to ask yourselves what exactly Levi’s involvement to all of this is. Who else would go through such trouble for a pet?”
The room seemed to drop a few degrees, and it wasn’t hard to distinguish why, though Levi resisted flicking his eyes to Erwin. He could feel there was a chilly hardness in the man’s gaze without seeing for himself.
“And,” Nile continued, not bullied by his fellow reaper’s deteriorating mood. If anything, it spurred him on to make his point. “Let’s not forget the break-in with those vampires in this very building and at Smith’s gleaning. Seems more than a mere coincidence, right? Especially, given that Levi supposedly was traumatized by that same species and attacked Connie 24 hours ago. Pretty convenient that none of them were left alive to question what their motives were, too. So, ask yourselves: were they trying to capture Levi against his will or were they there to rescue him?”
“They drugged him,” Erwin reminded, sounding far too calm compared to Nile, which did the opposite of soothing Levi’s bristling nerves. “You witnessed his state afterwards, and yet you claim they were there to rescue him?”
“Rescue comes in many forms. If he was their fighter and they wanted him back, then it could’ve been in their own safety to subdue him.”
“That’s not a rescue. That’s abduction. Which is still a crime, in case you forgot.”
“That doesn’t negate the possibility. The ones we put hands on didn’t have drugs with them when they broke into GSIS, so you still can’t rule it out.”
"They had tranquilizers they were trying to shoot him, Nile."
"And if my memory serves correctly, he was sedated under your team's orders to transport him to begin with. That's safety procedure, not abduction. So, what's the difference in your eyes?"
“Guys, stop,” Marie interrupted. “This isn’t solving anything.”
The way she sent a glimpse at Levi didn’t take much to identify she shared her husband’s wariness. However, what had his teeth on edge was how quiet the Director was being up to that point. Contemplating Nile’s valid theories was not what Levi needed if he wanted to keep his neck off the line. He had a curdling suspicion in his stomach that maybe his account on seals wasn’t enough to earn his keep—and fuck—how ironic was it that his ability to help on a case was shooting him in the foot by making him look like a suspect. Even if investigating his proximity to Tybur, he understood that he appeared to know too much to be entirely innocent.
“Does anyone else have anything to add to the debrief?” Shadis eventually asked.
The fact he wasn’t addressing the intrepid accusations was a terrifying turn of events. Levi would have preferred the old reaper to demand answers or proof that he wasn’t secretly working for Tybur or waiting for some fucked up ‘rescue’. Anything instead of just moving on. That meant Shadis was actually considering it and didn’t want to discuss it with Levi in the room, or he was ignoring it completely.
There was no way in hell it was the latter.
As Nanaba and Moblit finished it off with their plans for the day, Levi stole a glance toward Erwin who was leaning over to hear what Mike was whispering to him. He could see a twitch of the reaper’s jaw, but he nodded to whatever was being said.
Once the business of the case was concluded, Shadis left with mentions of a meeting before Erwin could pull him aside for a discussion of Levi’s status. Jean and Eren left with Nanaba to prepare to leave for some field canvasing after Nile stormed out under the hushed berating from Marie.
“Well, you certainly make things lively,” Moblit smiled toward Levi. “Hange is going to blow her top when she finds out what Nile said.”
“You planning on telling her?” Mike asked as he rocked back in his chair now that Shadis wasn’t in the room.
“Definitely not,” Moblit chuckled. “I’m giving the abridged version to enjoy the calm while I can. I’m sure she’ll have heard all about it by lunch time.”
“Could just rip it off like a Band-Aid and get it over with,” Erwin suggested, mood improving now that Nile was no longer in the room. There was a measure of reluctance around the edges, but Levi suspected it would stay that way until Shadis gave them word about his decision.
“I could. But I have a few things I’m hoping to get completed before then. See you guys later. Let me know if you need anything,” Moblit waved as he left, but right before he could open the conference door, it swung open to Marie.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t hit you, did I?”
“No, you’re good,” Moblit smiled, trading hands on the door so she could come inside. Then he disappeared, taking the air of the room with him.
For nearly 5 solid seconds, no one said anything to the unexpected arrival, as if testing who would break first in the sudden wake of awkwardness. The lull felt far too brittle to be considered normal.
Thankfully, it was Mike who broke first, “What’s up, Marie?”
“Hope I’m not interrupting. I just came by to speak with Erwin for a moment. In private.”
She refused to look in Levi’s direction, completely ignoring the fact that he stared unabashedly at her while holding his lazy position in the chair. Erwin, ever the polite gentleman unless provoked, nodded and started to stand before pausing halfway through the motion. Hands on the armrests, he turned to pull Levi’s gaze to him.
“Will you be ok for a few minutes?”
Levi shrugged while Mike gave a clipped laugh. “I’ll keep him plenty entertained. We still never finished our last game of twenty questions.”
“I never agreed to play it the first time,” Levi inserted dryly.
“You still answered.”
“Against my will.”
“No one held a gun to your head, mate.”
“Just my sanity to listening to you yap the whole time.”
Mike snorted, crossing one leg over the other on the table, rocking further in his chair. “Is that the secret to getting you to talk? Just hold a one-sided convo until you eventually cave?”
“Someone has to interrupt your fun. You enjoy the sound of your voice too much.”
“God, you can be a prickly bastard sometimes.”
“Alright,” Erwin pushed away from the chair, clearly done with being in the middle of their volley. “I’ll be back. Behave you two.”
“Sure, dad,” Mike laughed, watching Erwin get the door to an impassive Marie. As soon as the door shut with a soft click, Mike let the chair fall on four legs with a dull thud. After sweeping his legs off the table, he leaned forward with his forearms over the top while staring at the exit quietly.
Levi didn’t speak either, straining his hearing, not caring if Mike noticed. Then again, it seemed he was on the same page, if his face falling into stern concentration was any indication. Beyond the conference room, there was the faint ringing of a phone. The shuffling of a printer spitting out paper. A few people passing down the hall. But Erwin and Marie’s voices were lost in the din of the other agents.
“Can you hear anything?” Levi inquired, not in the mood to feign that they both weren’t trying to eavesdrop.
“Is that your first question?”
He rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
The corner of Mike’s lips curled. “No, I can’t hear what they’re saying. One of us could shift though. Might give us the advantage then.”
“Don’t expect me to do it.”
“Why not? I’ve not seen what you look like yet.”
“I’m counting that as a question.”
Mike scoffed. “Fine, as long as you answer.”
“I don’t care for the implications of you observing me in my other form. Thanks.”
“Why? It’s not sexual or anything. You know it’s pure curiosity. Plus, I’m happily married.”
“That’s too questions in a row.”
“No, that’s an amended question to the first because you haven’t really answered.”
Levi tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “Devils, you’re annoying.”
“Nah, you’re just sour because I’m right. Go on. Tell me.”
Keeping his eyes closed, Levi reluctantly answered, “Shadis still hasn’t given us his decision on how extreme my punishment will be. Don’t know if they’ll take me from Erwin or not. Figured shifting in the building would only piss that guy off more, so trying to avoid all that.”
“Hmm.” Mike returned his gaze to the door, giving ample time to consider what Levi explained. After another beat, he said, “I can’t say I know what Shadis will decide on, but I’m confident enough that you won’t be taken from Erwin. He’s obviously on the fence on what to do about you, so that’s a good place to keep the old reaper. On his toes and uncertain. Eventually, he’ll just decide on something to not think about it anymore and it won’t be severe.”
“I wasn’t overly concerned this morning after Erwin told me he wanted us both for the debrief,” Levi added, feeling uncharacteristically chatty. Then again, it did help to have someone to talk to about it rather than simmer in silence. With Erwin, it had been a subject they continued to dance around since Levi’s little meltdown at the cabin. “But that asshole, Nile, probably put some doubts in the Director’s head. Now I’m not so sure.”
“... Well... Shadis didn’t have you detained before he left, so... that’s something.”
Levi shook his head. “You’re not very good at reassuring people.”
“No, that’s not true. I’m actually great at it, ask Nana and the others. I just get the impression you’d prefer the facts rather than all the feel-good stuff.” Mike shrugged. “Missing out, is what I think. I’m an amazing cuddler. Does your tail even wag when you’re in your other form? I bet if it does, it’s only for Erwin, huh?”
Levi flicked a glare in his direction. “That’s too many questions.”
Mike chuckled with a wicked smile. “Fair. You got me. But now you’ve just opened a whole new subject when it’s my turn again.”
A feminine voice brushed against the door, but it was too faint to tell if it was Marie or another agent nearby. Levi felt a scowl forming as his gaze darted to the clock on the wall and then back. He wasn’t sure what was so important for Marie to tell Erwin in private. Whether it was away from Levi alone or Mike too, he couldn’t be certain, but she felt comfortable enough doing it in front of other agents outside of the team. If it was merely concerning Levi, he may not have been so tense, but given that Marie and Erwin had history, Levi found he was even more on edge.
Not that it was any of his business. Really, just thinking about the little he knew of Nile, Marie, and Erwin was enough for him to shove the thoughts away, afraid what sort of details would come from that Pandora’s box. It left a strange ache in his chest that he didn’t want to evaluate too closely.
Mike, whether sensing the unease Levi was surely emitting, or from his own morbid curiosity, turned serious as he pushed away from the table. He went to the door, muttering to himself--or no one--about going to see what was taking so long. Then Levi was left alone in the room.
***
“How’s Nile doing? Has he calmed down?” Erwin queried respectfully, inquisitive about why Marie had pulled him aside.
They were standing beside the outer wall of the bullpen, allowing enough room for anyone to walk past while not being in the way. The cubicles on the center of the floor weren’t close enough to raise any concerns about being overheard, but he kept his tone down all the same.
“He’s taking a moment. After yesterday, he’s been anxious, but I’m sure you can understand,” she answered casually, though the intensity of her gaze that bore into his gave him the impression she was prodding for confirmation. “He feels responsible for Connie and cares about everyone on the team. To see his ward be almost...” she sighed, aborting the thought as if sensing the potential landmine. “I’m concerned about how you two are behaving. I know you’re not justifying that man’s actions, but Nile doesn’t see it that way. It’s coming across as if you’re making excuses for Connie’s attacker.”
Erwin’s brows dipped, “The last thing I’d do is justify Levi’s actions like that. It’s not excuses, but an explanation on his circumstances. He’s got a right for his situation to be considered fairly, and for others to know the source of why it happened to begin with.”
“And I get that,” she conceded, doe-eyes reflecting her sincerity, “but you’re not exactly straddling the line of objectivity. It’s coming across like you’re firmly on his side and not concerned with Connie.”
“Is this your opinion, Marie? Or Nile’s that you’re giving voice to?”
She gave the barest wince before recovering. “It’s not just Nile’s or mine. Other people are getting that impression too. Ever since you’ve taken Levi in, you’ve been... different. Everyone is just concerned about you.”
Erwin felt himself bristle; a tinge of betrayal tried to rise but he quelled it. Having unfavorable opinions or rumors about himself was nothing new, but it never ceased to annoy him how minding his own business still wouldn’t keep his name from being the topic of discussion. To think that his own co-workers may be questioning his decisions and motive was still a punch to the gut, no matter how much he ignored it. The only thing he had comfort in was knowing that those who mattered most to him did not share Marie’s apparent concerns.
“The circumstances with Levi are tense, I understand that,” he said to appease her. “However, nothing else has changed. I’m still here to help close cases and watch out for Levi during his year of probation. As for Connie, I will try to temper my response to be more sensible to his feelings, but that doesn’t mean I won’t voice Levi’s circumstances, so he’s treated impartially either.”
He couldn’t tell if that reassured Marie or pushed her further into hesitation. She was wearing that familiar thoughtful look that could go in either direction. There was always a level-headedness with how she handled complicated situations which he valued. Unlike Nile that jumped into situations with emotions at the steering wheel, Marie tried to weigh the options and see the differing views for what they were before reacting. He always thought that he and Marie worked much better together in that regard than her and Nile, but he supposed opposites did attract. Their wedding bands were proof of it.
“Are you ok?” she asked, throwing him off momentarily by the change of topic. A delicate hand reached for his upper arm, lacquered nails teasing at his sleeve. “I’m worried about you. It’s clear to everyone that you’re under a lot of stress.”
Erwin didn’t remove her arm, offering a faint smile as his face softened. “You have nothing to concern yourself with. The team has been extremely helpful taking the lead on the case and accommodating me if something comes up.”
“I’m not talking about the case, Erwin.” She paused, pulling her glossy bottom lip between her teeth. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m worried you may drop your guard too easily at times. It’d tear me up if something happened to you.”
It dawned on him then that she was referring to Levi. The idea that she thought so ill of the hellhound that she feared for Erwin’s safety made him want to shake his head.
“He’s been perfectly amicable while staying with me.” Not exactly true. “What happened yesterday was not normal, and it’s unfair to reduce his actions to that alone. You’ve seen him many times outside of that and know he’s a quiet and private individual.”
“Quiet doesn’t mean innocent, Erwin. You know this. And you can’t ignore Nile’s concerns. He made some very valid points.” Her hand was still on his arm, creeping to his shoulder. “Please don’t be blinded by what you want to see in Levi. He may have good intentions at heart, but you can’t sacrifice your own security around him. At least, not until he’s been fully rehabilitated.”
“I don’t think you’re giving him the credit he deserves. If you’ve spent time with him—”
“Erwin.” She kept her gaze locked with his, worry and affection clashing as she stepped closer. “I can tell you care about him. But remember that you’re only responsible for him staying out of trouble and completing his probation. If you don’t keep it professional, don’t you think it could be considered taking advantage of him? He’s in a vulnerable position, as you’ve said. Try not to get too attached or fall into tunnel vision with him.”
A frown etched in as his mind instantly reflected on how he and Levi had been growing closer. The touches, his stollen kisses to Levi’s shoulder during his panic attack, the growing fondness.
Was that what Erwin was doing? Taking advantage of him? It gave way to something hollow to gnaw at his stomach, but he inhaled slowly to push it down.
“I would never try to take advantage of him or anyone like that.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” she smiled sadly, her fingers toying with his collar of his shirt, straightening out non-existent wrinkles. “Just watch yourself around him, please. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
A throat cleared beside them and, had Erwin been in deeper thought regarding Levi, he may have startled at the unexpected addition to their discussion. Marie’s hand slipped back to her side but not before tracking a ghostly touch down his chest.
“Sorry if you weren’t done yet,” Mike said, hawkish eyes measuring the minimal distance between Erwin and Marie. The taller man had his hands buried in his trouser pockets, appearing nonchalant, though Erwin knew him well enough to sense Mike was displeased. “I have to go help Nana and the boys, but you mentioned wanting to talk,” he directed at Erwin. “If you want to wait for a better time, I can. Wasn’t sure how much longer you two were going to be.”
“No,” never mind that Erwin replied a little quicker than necessary. He resisted the urge to step away from Marie and tried to squash the sting of unexpected guilt that rose up, feeling like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. “We were just finished.”
Marie nodded, sunny smile in place as she gave one last lingering glance at Erwin. “Remember what I said and if you have any concerns or just want to talk, you can reach out.”
“I appreciate it. Please tell Connie I hope he’s feeling better.” It was a diplomatic response despite the repulsion he felt brewing. He couldn't be certain if it was at himself or Marie.
She nodded and gave a pat to Mike’s shoulder as she passed, leaving them alone. Once she was far enough away, Erwin sighed and leaned against the wall, not even bothering to hold up his usual unruffled composure.
“What was that about?” Mike asked, the edge clear in his voice.
“She was concerned that I’m showing favoritism with Levi and I’m trusting him too easily.”
“Are you?”
Erwin felt his brows dip as he jerked his pinched gaze at his friend. “Why would you ask that?”
Mike gave a facial shrug. “Just wondering.”
“No. I don’t think I am,” he meant for it to sound self-assured, but it felt flimsy. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of him? Of Levi’s mental state?”
“By doing what? Supporting him and trying to reintegrate him back to society in the safest way possible for him and everyone around?” Mike scoffed. “Oh, yeah. You’re being a real deviant. Someone should put you away for good.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Well, don’t ask dumb questions. Levi has made huge improvements. In case you forgot how much, we have the footage of when he arrived here if you need a reminder.”
Erwin did not need a reminder. He really did not like thinking about Levi curled in himself, appearing small and untrusting of even the cot to sleep on, never uttering a word outside of growls.
“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” Mike questioned when Erwin started trailing off in thought.
“No.” He straightened off the wall, pulling back to the main topic. “What I was going to ask you was about something that I hadn’t thought of until recently. When I spoke to Hugh about the people who were interested in adopting Levi, right after the break-in here, he mentioned two individuals. One was the worker with WMC and the other was an Alpha of an esteemed pack up north.”
Mike nodded, face tightening beneath his sandy hair. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“He said the wolven’s name was Zeke Yeager... I know another wolven who shares that surname.”
“Eren?”
He schooled his voice to not sound jagged or accusing. “Is there any connection between them or is it coincidental?”
Mike pondered it for a moment before nodding. “I think he mentioned it before. He said his father had a wife before Carla in a different pack. There was some falling out or maybe she passed away, I don’t know. Didn’t want to dig too much in case it was sensitive. But they had a son together. Eren’s half-brother, I guess. Eh, though as far as I know, they don’t speak and aren’t close.”
“No pack get-togethers or sibling connection?”
“I never got that impression. He talks about a bunch of other people in his pack but never mentioned Zeke. Then again, being a pack Alpha isn’t exactly a walk in the park. It’s like a geopolitical environment on a shrunken scare, and the Fritz pack is one of the larger communities in the area. Takes up the majority of Vancouver if I heard right. Doesn’t leave much time for road trips and theme parks with the little brother.” Mike scrutinized him for a beat. “Why? You think something’s going on?”
Erwin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No... I don’t know. Maybe. I’m trying to narrow down who could be working close to us and feeding information to Tybur. Even if we can’t solidly link him to the cases to put him away, we know he’s watching us.”
“Do you really think Eren could be leaking info?” Mike said it with no accusation, but sincere interest.
“I don’t think he would intentionally. It’s a bit too close together to ignore, though.”
“Yeah. I’ll look into it and see. He can be a bit of ditz so it wouldn’t surprise me if he was running his mouth without considering the consequences. But at the same time, he isn’t an idiot, and he would never spill crucial information for the sake of gossip.”
“I’m not implying that at all. He’s a good kid. I’d merely feel better if we explored that option. Trust but verify.”
“I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, I do have to go.”
“Sure. I appreciate you hanging back to talk. Let me know what you need us to do if something comes up with the case.”
“You can start with bothering Shadis. Levi wants an answer on what’s going to happen, and so does the team. Blow up his phone all day if you have to.”
Erwin chuckled as Mike walked away. “Right. And I’ll tell him whose bright idea it was when he inevitable blows up himself.”
***
The drive to the cabin was unusually quiet. After Erwin tried to catch Shadis between meetings--and failed--the rest of the day continued with perpetual gloom hanging over them. When they finally shuffled into the house, Levi made a straight line to the sofa and buried his face in his hands, not in the mood to do much else.
While Erwin couldn’t blame him, he also couldn’t ignore the hint that Levi was pulling away from him. It felt like the beginning of a new wall was being constructed, where a stiffness colored their few discussions that certainly wasn’t present that morning when they left. Erwin wasn’t sure what the exact cause was for the shift, so he gave Levi his space while he made himself busy in the kitchen.
After making a serving a tea, and a coffee for himself, he brought both mugs to the living room and handed over the cup to Levi. The man took it with a quiet thanks as Erwin settled in the cushions beside him, taking a sip as they simply existed in each other’s presence.
It irked him to a degree that he wanted to lift a hand to Levi’s nape, as that had soothed the hellhound in the past, but Marie’s words dug in, making him second guess where the line was at. He couldn’t even distinguish it, now that he tried, as if he’d crossed it too many times that it was blurred and distorted. But had he? Or was what he and Levi shared so unprecedented that there were no such thing as clear boundaries?
It was hard to say. So fucking hard. He tried to put himself in Levi’s position and couldn’t deny that there was a power imbalance between them that continued to exist, no matter what he did to bridge the gap. Erwin was free and considered as Levi’s sponsor with the income and ability to move and do as he pleased. Levi was much the opposite. But up until then, he felt what they shared was mutual and not an attempt to bully Levi into anything he hadn’t wanted. Plus, the man was vocal about his dislike, so it wasn’t like Levi was fearful to voice his agitation. Nor did he submit to suggestions if he didn’t want to.
That was probably the biggest relief Erwin had to soothe his internal doubt.
“Her name was Isabel,” Levi spoke suddenly, voice weary and reluctant.
Erwin’s brain took an embarrassing second to catch up, afraid he’d zoned out and misheard the shifter. But after recalling Nanaba reporting the vic’s name was Isabella, it eventually clicked.
Levi was walking about his companion.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Levi shook his head and pushed on, as if any interruption would halt his momentum he was carefully building. Erwin conceded the floor to him, capable of shutting up and just listening for Levi to work at his own pace. He was getting better at that.
“It was the three of us. Me, Izzy, and Furlan. The night that changed, we had only gone to a pub to enjoy a round of drinks together when we crossed paths with the wrong people.”
From there, Levi revealed the harrowing details of how he lost one friend in their fight to get away, how the other fell victim to trafficking and Levi’s failure to get them out. He started describing his first few weeks with Tybur but, whether out of discomfort of reliving it or because his worries revolved around his companion, the topic turned to focus solely on Izzy. The little sister, in Levi’s eyes.
The fact that Erwin wasn’t surprised to learn of her fate was likely a byproduct of living as long as he had, dealing with Supras of other races in various capacities. It probably didn’t help his natural apathy towards death, but he wasn’t heartless to not be unmoved from the retelling. The pain was contagious, if muted. He felt the regret and loathing that oozed over Levi’s words, even without a single moment of eye-contact since the man began speaking. Losing loved ones was never easy and despite Reapers’ ingrained indifference to most things, they still felt the loss and pain that came with it. No living being was ever that disconnected.
Regardless, the method of Izzy’s murder was not as detached as he expected Tybur to have done it. There was no doubt it was personal and meant to break Levi down in the most brutal and cruel way. Bleeding her out as if she was nothing more than livestock. Not only watching her murder but witnessing the cold handling that made her final moments more painful and terrifying, certainly left its mark. And the helplessness that Levi must have felt, stuck in place and unable to do anything to save his sister, likely pushed him further over the edge. He could recognize Levi's internal self-loathing for not merely allowing Tybur to feed him. To please the vampire and maybe Izzy wouldn’t have suffered a horrible fate if Levi just cooperated.
Levi didn’t voice the latter part, but it wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks. Informing the shifter that it never would’ve made a difference in the end was a waste of effort, because Erwin knew Levi was already aware. There was no outcome where he and Izzy would’ve walked away from the coven together. Even if she survived this long, Levi’s circumstances were a stroke of luck for him to be taken away that night of the fundraiser. The same couldn’t be said for her.
The frail moment of Levi’s explanation solidified Erwin's resolve to ensure any accusation sent his way was met with a clear defense. Who else could say that if they were held 30 years as captive, tortured, and forced to witness their kin being dismembered, that they wouldn’t react as such to a triggering crime scene? No one. It was unprecedented and unjust to expect Levi to not be affected by that.
The biggest hurdle he faced now, was getting Shadis to see sense and not write it in the official report to WMC. Clint could only do so much to mitigate any fallout from it, and if such a retelling reached SRC, Erwin was certain Levi wouldn’t be allowed to continue with GSIS.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that was likely Tybur's goal from the beginning. To find a way to separate him and Levi.
After Levi decided to take a bath and Erwin started making dinner, they reconvened at the small dining table, the television on in the background for white noise as they ate.
There seemed to be a weight lifted off Levi’s shoulders when he sat down to eat, face less strained, pinched brows smoothed over. Erwin conversed about nonsense with Jean and Eren, replaying how they’ve gotten into arguments and that led to various competitions between the two. One of which was Jean making a fake dating profile for Eren on a questionable app that had humans with Furry kinks reaching out to the wolven. Levi listened intently scoffing and rolling his eyes while tossing mild insults at them and their antics. It was a nice reprieve to shed the tension from the day, allowing Erwin to shelve away Marie’s concerns about boundaries and favoritism.
Perhaps, that was a bit selfish and irresponsible of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for it. Not when there was that creeping smile breaking free in the corner of Levi’s lips, reminding Erwin of low mist and lakebeds. Or dewy mountain grass, lupines, and wildfire smoke.
Everything was settling around them, encapsulating them in tranquility after the terrible start to their week, when the flutter of a name interrupted the moment like shattered glass.
“Lt. Governor Dorian Romero. Lord Willy Tybur. It’s great to see you here! Can you tell us who you’re wearing today? You both look very stunning.”
Levi jerked his head toward the television, food long forgotten on the plate. Confused and trying to jumpstart his brain to realizing what was happening, Erwin stared at the local channel in the other room where a reporter was dressed in a gown during a holiday charity event being broadcasted. It was the annual gala held to raise funds and awareness for the Children’s Hospital of Seattle and the interspecies orphanage, St. Bernadette’s. The irony of Tybur attending such an event and being lauded for it, stung like vinegar in a wound.
“Oh, you’d have to ask my wife,” a willowy man teased in a sleek black tux. His salt and pepper hair was combed back, held in place by generous pomade as he flashed a veneered smile. He slapped a hand onto the shoulder of the shorter, equally slender man beside him and gave an affectionate squeeze. “But I suspect Lord Tybur knows every detail of thread he’s wearing. Always takes pride in everything he does.”
Levi let out a throaty growl that overlayed Tybur’s smart response before the reporter was shifting gears, causing Erwin to pause in turning the channel.
“Now, you both are here as always, dedicated to supporting your local community, but I have to ask. With the recent uptick in protests from PETA-W, with some turning aggressive at times, what are your thoughts on their message about rewriting policies for how wolvens in the system are managed with WMC?”
The government official schooled his features into something mirroring remorse. “Their efforts sound like a noble cause, and I’m not saying there isn’t reason to strive for improvements in all species livelihoods. Lord knows there’s plenty of room for advancement. However, there is a right and wrong way to go about it. Peaceful protests are meant to be just that. Peaceful and respectful of the laws in place. Nothing changes overnight and democracy is a foothold for checks and balances.”
“That’s very well said, sir. And what are your thoughts, Lord Tybur?”
The man didn’t seem unmoved from the question turning on him. In fact, he looked prepared for it. “I must say, these silly, perverted ideas of unilateral revolution will only succeed liberating the wicked among us that would see a different hierarchy. A dangerous one to our society. Wolvens run closer to authoritarianism than many people realize and if there is nothing to keep them accountable, where does that leave the rest of us? Equality and granting sanctuary to anyone is an idealistic dream, but without background checks or culpability it only opens us to threats. We should tread carefully where hate is overruling the thought process to those who would like to see our current peace shatter.”
“Those are strong words but not unreasonable.” The reporter turned their attention to the governor once more. “Do you have any messages you’d like to say to anyone watching?”
When the mic appeared beneath Dorian’s chin, he leaned closer and spoke, “I ask that everyone consider where your values lie to include your own happiness and what you’re willing to sacrifice. Cease these violent protests and realize that some laws justify the end where we maintain peace. Open your eyes now and see that some things must happen to justify the end and together, we can come to a solution that best fits all.”
There was a bid goodbye and to enjoy the event followed by happy holidays, but neither were paying any further attention. Levi had stood from his chair to face the television at some point; fists balled at his sides and livid. Erwin took that moment of pause to turn the tv off, afraid for the device’s life after seeing Levi’s room. As soon as it blinked off, Levi deflated.
“Fuck.” He cursed, rubbing his hands over his face, though kept his back to Erwin. “Can’t even keep my shit together when he’s on tv.”
There wasn’t anything Erwin could say that would ease Levi’s dilemma. Instead, he reached for his elbow and guided him to the chair beside his. “No one is incapable of making a mistake. It’s only a matter of time before Tybur slips and ruins everything he’s built.”
“How can you say that when he’s literally getting away with murder and strutting around on the news?” Levi asked, meeting his eyes.
“Because whether it seems like it or not, he’s on our records for questionable connections. The trafficking incident, though it wasn’t officially labeled as such, did more damage to his image in GSIS than he may realize. The more strings we tie him to, the closer we get to capturing him.”
Though Levi didn’t hold his gaze long, Erwin couldn't help but try to chase it. Shifting in his chair he leaned forward to fall into the line of those stormy eyes. Whether aware of the game or not, Levi countered by tilting his head onto Erwin’s shoulder, allowing the reaper to tentatively settle his hand on his nape where he kneaded the muscle.
“We’ll get him, Levi. Do you trust me?”
“Yeah... I trust you, Erwin.”
***
He isn’t entirely certain what exactly woke him. If he had to put it down to something, he suspected it was the faint disturbance at the front door.
Blinking to clear the sleep from his mind, Erwin was met with the flickering images of the early morning informercial, having fallen asleep with the television on. The volume was low as the host chatted about whatever they were selling, though Erwin was awake enough to know that wasn’t what stirred him. Glancing at the other end of the sofa and on the floor confirmed his suspicions.
Pushing up, he glanced behind the couch toward the rest of the dark cabin, illuminated in a soft blue glow from the screen. Levi was at the door in his human form, twisting at the handle with a sluggishness that betrayed his usual dexterity. It was alarming how slow everything took to register to Erwin. Between the fog still lingering in his mind and trying to take in the exact hour from the stove, he didn’t immediately recognize that something was undeniably off.
“Levi, what are you doing up so early?” He supposed it was likely he couldn’t sleep and wanted to sit on the deck to stargaze.
But the way the man stilled, and the lack of outward response, immediately had Erwin revising his assumption.
No verbal answer was given. Levi didn’t even startle or appear apologetic for waking him. Instead, he lifted his gaze to sweep the living room, not out of sleep-dazed puzzlement, but a very recognizable threat calculation. The reality of what was happening evaporated any tiredness that clung to Erwin, once their eyes met with a distinct lack of recognition.
Behind the glassy stare, Levi was not at all present.
“Levi...”
It was like that night in the woods all over again. The emptiness: flat, bottomless--but in place of confusion, it harbored a coldness that sent his hair standing on end. Levi turned away from the door, and the mechanical movement was tight and precise, every ounce a predator feeling out its prey.
Erwin wasn’t familiar with the sensation of panic, but Levi sure did a damn good job of introducing it more often than he preferred. If he was in the right state of mind, he may have felt embarrassed with the train of thoughts that barreled through at that delicate moment.
Did Levi have another nightmare? Was it the stress that triggered another incident? But he ate—he ate his dinner--was it hunger driving him again? The events of the last two days? Was it sleepwalking or a dissociative episode? Was it myth to not wake someone sleepwalking or was that what he had to do?
In the end, it didn’t matter. There was no manual on how to navigate the situation from here. All he could do was try to get Levi back to himself before either of them did something stupid.
“Hey, Levi,” he spoke calmly and slow, telegraphing his movements as he stood slowly and stepped in the opposite direction as the shifter. Each pace toward Erwin, he mirrored sideways, keeping the sofa between them without looking like he was retreating. “Were you getting hungry? I can get you something from the kitchen.”
The man made no indication of hearing him, that gaze ever blank like a statue as he continued to creep forward. To the outside, one would think Levi was lazily trying to reach him, perhaps drunk on exhaustion and yet compliant. But Erwin knew better. That unassuming walk, not displaying recognizable stalking behavior, was a farce. A performance for Erwin to drop his guard.
It was a sick game on both ends. An ‘everything is fine, just stay calm’, although one promised a malicious end with teeth and claws. As much as Erwin wanted the world to be perfect, to where he could pull out something from the cabinet to appease Levi before he could act, it never worked out that way.
As soon as Erwin and Levi were on opposite ends of the back of the couch, the shifter moved. Fast didn’t give the man credit. It was inhuman and lightning quick like a snake striking.
Erwin didn’t retreat, but moved to block the swipe at his throat, then grabbed the second wrist in mid-assault and wrangled Levi past him to gain space. All he managed to do was piss the hellhound off and shove him further into instincts. The fight escalated instantly, banishing any hope of relying on defensive maneuvers alone until Levi came back to himself. If Erwin wanted to keep his life, he'd have to throw that idea out the window and fight back.
The best chance to stop this was to subdue Levi while he was still in his human form and in the confines of the cabin. If he got out, who knew what would happen. If he shifted and clamped those jaws onto Erwin, the best case was a damaged appendage and scarred soul. Worse case...
There was no option for worse case. Erwin had to end this quickly.
“Levi—stop!”
The hellhound didn’t stop, deflecting a kick from the reaper like it was child’s play. Levi was stunningly feral, and Erwin gritted his teeth with an internalized apology.
As soon as Levi crowded his space, he jammed an elbow upwards, catching the man’s jaw and sending his head back. In that microsecond, arms looped around the grim’s ribs, and he swung Levi in the air before slamming him across the island tabletop. Levi rolled from the momentum and fell onto the floor and cabinet in a crushing heap, but it did little to wind him as he kicked the stool into Erwin’s knee.
He barked out a cry of pain as Levi lurched to his feet, grabbing Erwin’s head while he was bent and slamming into the marbled counter. A burst of white stretched across the reaper’s vision, but he was straightening to block another strike to his head. The following he was too slow to avoid, and as he lifted his arm to deflect another, it was a feint that Levi capitalized on by lodging a hit right into his exposed ribs.
Livid with adrenaline surging and dulling pain receptors, Erwin didn’t hold back on his left hook to Levi’s face, praying for a clean knockout to avoid further injury. The impact was solid and unforgiving, snapping his head to the side with enough force that Levi was knocked to the ground.
Again, he kicked out as Erwin approached to subdue him, clocking his ankle and forcing him to catch himself on the counter before he too fell. By the time Levi was on his feet, they were locked in a messy battle of limbs, colliding into cabinets, knocking over the bookshelf, smashing into the side table by the chair. No matter what Erwin tried to do, whether shouting at Levi, trying to activate the bond, or just pinning the spry hellhound down, it was met with equal efforts of resistance.
That didn’t stop him from trying. With scythe in hand, he hooked behind Levi’s ankle, but the shifter dodged, dancing out of the way of the sweep. Levi followed it up by rotating his body, having the advantage of no large weapon and speed to land another hit to Erwin’s ribs. There was an unmistakable crack and give, shooting agony down the entire right side of his body. But Erwin pushed through it just in time to lift the scythe to block Levi’s kick aimed at the same damaged bones.
The curve of the elk antler cradled and yet trapped Levi’s calf from underneath, forcing the grim to stagger in mid-attack to keep his balance. Erwin was quick to take advantage, using a free hand to seize the front of Levi’s shirt and flip him onto the floor, slamming harshly onto the scraps of wood and books.
“Wake up!”
The feral warbling and bared teeth met him as Levi’s sharp nails sank into his forearm. Erwin didn’t think much else about reaching through to Levi, flipping the grim over onto his stomach and smothering his weight over his body. The wooden handle of the scythe slipped in front of Levi’s throat and chest squeezing his torso to make breathing a discomfort but still possible. Meanwhile, Erwin planted his knees on either side of Levi’s hips, bare feet hooked to the inside of Levi’s knees and his chest flush with the grim’s back.
“Settle, Levi. You’re safe!” he panted as Levi writhed beneath him. “You’re safe. I got you.”
He didn’t know how long they laid there. A few times, he was forced to adjust as Levi struggled, clawing at the hardwood floors or Erwin’s legs to the point of drawing blood. There were drops and smears all around the house, both contributing to the stains. Clothes ruined amongst furniture and fixtures, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.
As the minutes ticked but, Levi’s fight gradually teetered off, leaving Erwin with another problem when he was forced to wait for the man to come back to himself. The position, constant stimulation, and racing heartrates had given Erwin a slight problem between his legs, and he hated himself for getting half-hard at a time like that. He knew, wholeheartedly, that it wasn’t the fact of being aroused by the struggle or anything of the sort, but just the sensation against his groin. That didn’t make him want to vomit any less, though. He still wanted to purge his guts and never look at himself in the goddamn mirror again.
“Fuck. Please, Levi. Just come back.”
He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to knock the man out. Didn’t want to hurt him anymore than what he was forced to do already. He considered trying to activate that subspace again now that he could concentrate and Levi seemed a bit calmer, though wasn’t sure if that would lead to more issues for his mental state when in a feral daze already.
When he weighed the pros and cons, Erwin was about to take the risk, when Levi slumped against the scythe and let out a shaky breath that Erwin felt to his core.
“Levi?”
He didn’t respond, but the tremor and gasps, followed by a weak choked sound was enough for Erwin to release his hold.
Scrambling off the grim, he dispelled his scythe and helped Levi into a sitting position, propped up against the knocked over leather chair. He palmed at Levi’s blood smeared face, brushing sweaty hair from his sticky forehead.
“Are you with me? Are you back?”
Levi swallowed, blinking rapidly as that glassy stare flittered away and homed into sharpness.
“What... what-?”
“Sshh.” Erwin couldn’t help the sad relieved smile from curling, gaze cataloguing the swelling and redness forming beneath Levi’s eye. There wasn't time for remorse; he had to choke down his guilt and focus solely on helping Levi return to himself. “We’ll talk about that later. Are you severely hurt anywhere? Feel anything broken? Possible internal damage?”
Levi looked absolutely lost, and it punched a hole in Erwin’s heart. He watched as Levi lifted a shaky hand to his reddened cheek though it paused half-way, before his fingers were tracing over the gash at Erwin’s hairline.
“Fuck... did I...”
Erwin wrapped his hand around Levi’s fingers, pulling them down to place a kiss on the tender flesh of his wrist. “Sshh. I’m alright. Looks worse than it is.”
Levi frowned, thoughts lining up to form an argument, but Erwin deflected it.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Come on.”
There was little protest from Levi when he was in such a state. Similar to the first incident, he was pliant and hushed, relying on Erwin’s guidance through the process. After he managed to get the blood and sweat off Levi, giving him a moment to soak in the hot water, Erwin turned his efforts toward himself, restricting his clean-up to the sink. He didn’t want to risk Levi being alone, no matter how docile he was at that second. The fragile mental state was hard to predict, and Levi wasn’t voicing any of his thoughts. Erwin wasn’t pressing for them either, wanting to exist in hushed lull before the reality of the fallout set it.
Once they were both cleaned and the lacerations were doctored, Erwin led Levi up to the second floor, down the hall, and to his bedroom. He had no desire to try to shove the damage and debris away from the sofa and he’d be damned if he made Levi sleep on the floor again after that. If Levi wanted to go off on him in the morning for taking liberty of where they slept—if Erwin was officially crossing some sanctity line and taking advantage—that was an issue for future self to deal with.
Pulling the sheets back, he ushered Levi underneath, which he followed without hesitating. Then Erwin joined him on the other side, doing well to keep respectable space between them. The mattress felt like heaven to the reaper, already taking strain off his lower back as he stared up at the ceiling. He tried to will himself to sleep, even after his muscles had long since melted, but it was like his entire being was homed in on the body beside him.
Levi had moved a few times, yet remained awake. The lull between them seemed to grow a little heavier as each minute passed, doing the opposite of allowing exhaustion to take Erwin’s thoughts away. Instead, they began to germinate new doubt and second guesses. His thumb fiddled with a wrinkle in the duvet as he wondered if he should simply allow Levi to take the bed while he took the sofa. Or hell, even the floor, his back be damned. Just when he opened his mouth to suggest it, Levi turned over and inched across the space between them until his head rested tentatively over Erwin’s shoulder.
“Is this ok?” Levi asked after a beat, voice flat and yet unexpectedly normal.
Erwin hadn’t realized how stiff he was until he forced out a slow breath, willing himself to relax. “Yeah, of course.”
Then, in a surge of bravery or stupidity, he shifted to free his right arm, looping it around Levi’s shoulder and back to invite the grim closer if he wished. Levi didn’t give any of it much thought, scooting in until he was pressed to Erwin’s side, head now resting on his chest. Erwin knew his heart was pounding like a drum and entirely heard by Levi, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
This was unexpected—the opposite of what he anticipated, and yet he was entirely content with offering Levi the comfort and affection he needed after yet another traumatic setback. No matter what happened, he’d always be willing to supply that for Levi, even if he was terrible at it sometimes; he’d put his best effort forward.
“It was a bad dream.”
The admission floated overhead in the too quiet cabin, lingering for Erwin to do what he wished with it. His hand came up, carding through Levi’s hair as he formulated a response.
“I figured.”
Levi nodded. There was nothing more to say on it for now.
He continued to soothe Levi until the grim’s weight was no longer being held back as he fell into another slumber. His head rose and fell with each breath of Erwin’s and after another 20 minutes, he too returned to the embrace of sleep.
***
Things predictably took a nasty turn for the worst.
For the entirety of the following day, while Erwin spent the morning cleaning the disaster downstairs, Levi hit the proverbial wall for his mood, slumping deep into a depressive state. It was every bit of a bad mental-health day, and Erwin had waited for such a time to finally collide with the shifter. He knew it was expected for any trauma survivors to have their lows when trying to heal, and there was nothing Erwin could do to avoid it. Now that it arrived, all he could do was be there for Levi and do whatever the shifter needed from him.
Tea. Comfort food. Milkshake. Warm blankets. Hell, Erwin even gave Levi some space while he went out to the local grocery store, picking up a sad white flower bouquet to bring him. Was it silly and probably a waste of effort? Probably. Did Erwin still try to spruce it up with a few ferns added in from the driveway up to the cabin, knowing how much Levi liked the fronds? Definitely. Levi didn’t have to like it, but he hoped the gesture would mean something at the very least.
To his relief, when he returned to find Levi where he left him on the bed, there was a spark of interest at the flowers Erwin delivered. He even got to watch Levi brush his fingers over the slightly wilted petals and the vibrant green of the fresh ferns before he accepted the fresh tea from the reaper.
After that, he was able to convince Levi to leave the bed and come to the couch where he shifted to his canine form, curling up beside Erwin and resting his head on his thigh. Erwin situated himself so he was laying down with his legs trapping Levi’s body between him and the back of the sofa, draping a blanket over their lower halves as he set on a light-hearted, wholesome movie.
It took just after the title flitted off the screen for Erwin to brave his hand and pet Levi’s head for the first time, marveling that it was still attached to his wrist before admiring the softness. The fur lifted slightly at the contact, but Levi was entirely relaxed beneath the strokes, even shifting his jaw over the thigh to get a little closer.
Erwin didn’t dare speak; afraid it’d shatter the moment if he let out any hint about how excited he felt. Instead, he continued running his hand down the back of Levi’s head and neck, occasionally pausing to give attention to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Neither paid much attention to the movie, especially as Levi began to drift into another dreamless nap.
Notes:
Oh, Mike. How I love you and your subtle match-making support. Didn’t think there would be a one-bed only trope here, but given Levi’s room is destroyed, as is the living room… welp. What do you know? XD
That should be enough trauma baiting for a while, but that doesn’t mean other things aren’t happening around them.
Once again, thank you for all the support and feedback. It truly means a lot with this story and gets me through those days where I doubt the quality of it. Hope everyone is doing well! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 27: Repercussions
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
A salty breeze teasingly pulled at his ponytail while the sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. It was a beautiful winter day with the clouds parted and sunlight shimmering across the glass of skyscrapers. The city’s bustling traffic and pedestrians were a world apart from where he lounged with his colleagues on the rooftop restaurant, glamoured by elegant plated food and smartly dressed waitstaff.
Lifting the delicate martini glass to his lips, Willy asked over the rim, “And what news does our informant bring to us? Did my fighter receive his present?”
Dorian and Reid turned their attention to Zeke who adjusted his glasses before answering, “It appears so. From the sounds of it, he lost his composure, but no significant damage was done.”
“None? I expected him to destroy something, or someone...”
“What I gathered was that he attacked a forensic technician though the kid only sustained superficial damage. The reaper was able to keep the wolven in line and avoid actual casualties.”
Willy set the glass down, noting how the crimson liquid inside rippled faintly from the movement of the table. “Smith certainly knows how to dampen my fun. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised given his attachment to the little beast. What sort of consequences have come out of Levi’s stunt?”
“At this time, it’s unclear. If there’s been a decision reached, she hasn’t been made aware of it yet. We’ll check in and see if something has come up by the end of the day.”
“Well,” Dorian interjected, resting his fork on the edge of his plate and dabbed his napkin around his thin lips, “if no punishment has been rectified yet, it’s safe to assume that whatever does happen won’t be severe.”
Willy regarded the Lt. Governor quietly, contemplating what angle he could execute next within his presence. It was a newer relationship he’d built with the human official, and so far, the couple of years collaborating with their shared agenda had been successful with little worry of betrayal. Still, it was wise not to reveal too much of his plans and add strain to their fledgling rapport. The murders aside, there were some things he wasn’t sure the governor had the stomach to acknowledge and remained indifferent to.
On the other hand, it was asking a lot for Willy’s patience to sit here and act unbothered by Smith’s interference—again. He intended to give Levi the outlet he needed, to spill blood and reignite that inferno hatred, indulging in a bit of old fashion violence. All Smith was doing was taming the wolven into some docile house pet. That just wouldn’t do.
The positive of having the governor aware of his intentions for Levi was that it gave him further support and reputable alibi regarding the murders. If Levi had lost his control and killed someone at the crime scene, it’d successfully further their narrative and add tension to the unrest aimed at wolvens and their so-called rights. Afterall, if there were still threats of wolvens turning feral in public, that only solidified the need for rehabilitation, stricter protocols, and undeniable control. Cement their place at the lower end of the hierarchy except for those wolvens that were already legal citizens. Zeke and many other packs saw the benefits of segregating their kind from those contributing versus those more animal in nature, so why not open the eyes of the rest of the public. It was a mutual beneficial agreement with Dorian and Willy’s objectives.
But, alas, even with the carefully constructed gift, Levi was noncompliant as usual. And Smith was reinforcing Willy’s opinion that he needed to go. Permanently.
He supposed it was time to stop holding off on his next play. He had been saving it for a special circumstance, and it seemed now was as good a time as any.
Mentally inventorying the tools at his disposal, his mind immediately flitted to the unassuming scrapbook tucked in a drawer in his study. Levi’s scrapbook. It was something he had started after the wolven’s first fight where he was exhausted and weak, and yet he still managed to take out his opponent in a glory of carnage.
The original intention was to use it to document and hopefully narrow down what made Levi different than other wolvens, with the added benefit of acting as another method to tease the poor thing when he got too arrogant. Levi was never made aware of the book’s existence, filled with a chronical archive of his kills under Willy’s ownership, which was a shame now that he wasn't under the vampire's custody.
The last documented photo was unlike the others as it was a profile picture off a dating app, with the name Sam beneath the beauty. Willy regretted not getting a picture prior to tossing the girl in Levi’s cage, but he’d been distracted with Levi potentially rejecting the meal before the important fight with Sannes' proxy. He did manage to get a photo of the aftermath, half-devoured and unrecognizable aside from the floral band tattoo on her forearm. It was double taped right beneath her snapshot profile picture, very much contrasting images.
It wasn’t just the book that Levi was oblivious to, but also the fact that those photos acted as inspiration for the string of murders under the Cascade Butcher moniker. Grice had fed the college students the photos for reference, and they mimicked the killings before making it their own. How ironic that he was assisting the team on that very case. The universe really had a twisted sense of humor, just as Willy did.
If Levi ever found out that delicious detail, his hatred of Willy would only amplify—if that was possible. At the same time, it would be like a reflection back onto himself where he’d drown in guilt and circle to the realization that he was no better than the coven leader. Knowing the cur, he would spout off that they both deserve to go down in a vat of hellfire, along with colorful descriptions of how he would take Willy down with him.
Truthfully, Willy always thought the idea was a bit romanticized. While he didn’t see the hell spawn as something to explore intimate satisfaction with, he couldn’t help feeling the similar sense of longing for Levi’s poetic phrase. Platonic companionship. A counterfeit connection of antagonist intimacy. They could both be warm and curled within each other’s ribcages in Hell, two monsters built for destruction.
And then there was the gem of it all. The chef d'oeuvre of his arsenal in waiting: the video footage.
Indeed, he had options to choose from, but why be greedy and take all the fun. There were friends at that very table with him who’d surely appreciate the hands-on approach.
Retracting from his internal musings, he took another sip of his sanguine cocktail, feeling giddy with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see Levi’s face when his silly stint of freedom came crumbling down. He had his fun. It was time for reality to make an appearance and for the cur to come home.
“Keep me updated if she finds out anything. In the meantime,” he turned to Lt. Governor Dorian with a sly grin, “how do you feel about playing a role on centerstage?”
***
“Chicken or beef, señor?”
“Uh... chicken, please.”
“Dos?”
“Yes—si.”
“Alright. I’ll call your number when it’s ready.”
Mike watched Jean take the receipt with a nod and joined them at the picnic bench. They were half-way back from Portland after interviewing friends and family of the victim when they stopped for much needed food. It was practically a demand and necessity if Mike wanted to keep the pool car intact.
Eren’s stomach growled from across the table, leg bouncing in anticipation to indulge in the aroma saturating the air from the Mexican food truck.
“Will you chill out?” Jean grumbled as he sunk into the bench beside the young wolven. “They’re going to think you’re rabid.”
“Shut-up, horseface. I’m just hungry.”
“You’re acting like you’re on the verge of starvation and withering into bones. Maybe eat a bigger breakfast to tie you over for lunch, Cujo.”
“Easy to say for someone with a slow metabolism. Let me know how that works for you fifty years from now.”
“Not everyone is a mutated freak. Look at Mike. He doesn't look like he’s about to tip over and gut the food truck in the next 30 seconds.”
Mike smirked, patting his jacket over the pocket inside. “Keep snacks on me at all times. I’m smart like that.”
Eren groaned, helpless in his defense.
Glancing around to see there was no one except for some college kids getting condiments for their tacos and construction workers in line to order, Mike decided to finally breach the topic. It would double in keeping the younger wolven distracted until their food was ready.
“Hey. Eren.”
“Yeah,” he drawled as if the word took too much precious energy to summon.
“You mentioned before that you had a half-brother, right? Zeke Yeager.”
Mike watched the man closely, looking for micro expressions that may raise any red flags. So far, he seemed neutral and indifferent to the subject.
“Yeah. What about him?”
Playing nonchalant, Mike shrugged. “Just curious. I know he’s a pack Alpha up north. Wasn’t sure if you two were close or if you ever went to Canada to visit.”
Eren snorted and rolled his eyes. “Nah, Zeke’s an asshole. I try to avoid any interaction with him if he’s ever at my pack. He’s tried to play the big brother role a few times, but I’m not interested in it.”
Mike tilted his head. “Didn’t he come down for Hannes’ funeral with the pack?”
Eren shrugged, leg still bouncing as he mindlessly picked at his thumbnail. “Yeah. Probably said less than 10 words to him in all that time. Like I said, he’s an asshole. Thinks he’s the smartest one in the room and has a habit of talking to me like a pup.”
Even though Eren had a means to expel any nervousness if he was lying, Mike found that he believed him. He spoke so frequently of other packmates and even Armin, a temporary tech with GSIS and his best friend, that he would’ve let slip if Zeke was around more often.
“Hey,” Eren said, breaking the pause that formed at the table. “Is it just me or do you guys think what Nile said was pretty fucked up the other day?”
Jean shrugged. “I think what happened with Connie really unbalanced him. He’s never been known for keeping a level head, being a rather short-tempered reaper, as he is.”
“Yeah, but he’s been so quick to jump at Levi any chance he gets. I mean, I get it. Connie is my friend too, but Nile doesn’t have to be a prick about it.”
“If you had a subordinate that was attacked on scene with another co-worker, wouldn’t you be pissed off?”
Eren squinted his gaze at Jean, leg slowing down. “Are you actually defending him?”
“No. I agree with you that he’s been an asshat lately, but I can also see where he’s coming from. Just playing devil’s advocate is all.”
“Well knock it off or I’d think you’re a sympathizer. He had no right to justify Levi being captured against his will and forced back into... I don’t know—whatever his role was with Tybur. I know enough to say it wasn’t as a pet,” Eren adjusted his attention to Mike, “Right? Well, regardless, reducing his worth like that and in front of Levi was fucking ballsy.”
Mike sighed. “Jean’s right. As long as I’ve known Nile, he’s quick to react with his negative emotions. Nana—love the woman to death—but she didn’t have to encourage him at the brief. She knew he was going to speak first before thinking.”
“Just made himself look like an idiot, really,” Eren muttered bitterly.
Mike wanted to agree. He wasn’t wrong. But at the same time, some of what Nile said was valid questions to Levi’s circumstances. Not that he bought any of it, knowing much more than the reaper did. However, for others that weren’t familiar with the whole story, he could see where cracks of doubt could form.
“And,” Eren added, voice picking up as the topic heated under his skin, “I don’t know what his thoughts are with wolvens in the system, but it came across that he’s a supporter of it. Talking about safety and shit. If I hear him talking like that to any other wolven in the building, I’m decking him.”
Jean scoffed. “And be reprimanded for it, moron. You think that’ll change his mind? If anything, you’ll reinforce it.”
Eren crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s he gonna do? Call the shelter to pick me up? He can’t do shit about it.”
“As co-leader to our outfit,” Mike interrupted, lifting a brow as the corner of his lip curled crookedly, “I’m laying the law down to not act on violence against Nile. We’ll do the sensible thing and file a complaint.”
Eren and Jean didn’t appear impressed with Mike’s solution judging from their deadened gaze.
“Paperwork sounds more like self-punishment, you masochist,” Jean griped. “Save the tree corpse and just let Eren hit him. It’d be more entertaining that way.”
“Eren hitting him will still lead to paperwork,” Mike retorted smartly. “And lectures.”
“Yeah, but that’s a team leader responsibility,” Eren chuckled. “If we file a complaint, that mean’s I gotta do it. And personally, decking Nile sounds more rewarding.”
Mike shook his head, giving up on convincing them. He was 99% certain... 86% certain that Eren wouldn’t actually follow through with his threat. As hotheaded as the wolven was, he knew there was a time and place for emotions or else he would’ve exploded during the meeting with the entire team present.
“If we wait long enough,” Jean continued, tone lilting into something playful, “we might get to see Erwin put Nile in his place first.”
Eren snorted a laugh. “Gods, that’d be awesome to see. It got tense there for a little bit, but he didn’t get nearly as pissed as I thought he’d be.”
“He was,” Mike confirmed. “Erwin understands the importance of time and place. That certainly wasn’t it with Shadis present and Levi’s punishment in limbo.”
“You should take note,” Jean smarted to Eren who jammed an elbow into his side. Jean retaliated with a shove that Eren rolled his eyes at, catching himself before falling off the seat.
“Speaking of Erwin,” the wolven preluded, eyeing Mike curiously, “have you noticed they smell like each other?”
Jean interrupted before Mike could respond to the unspoken implication, “Of course, they would. They live together.”
“Not like that,” Eren snapped. “Their scents are stronger on each other like they’ve been close. Physical contact close. I’m just curious if they’re courting or something.”
“I’m clearly not understanding what you’re getting at,” Jean grumbled. “Living together, sharing a laundry room, all that seems to explain it to me.”
“Mike, help me out here. This guy’s an idiot and I can’t break it down any lower to his grade level.”
“You sure Zeke’s the asshole in the family and not you?”
“When will you learn to shut-up—”
Mike started talking over them, effectively cutting the pair off. “Shifters communicate with scent, Jean. Territories, packmates, even things like lunch in the communal fridge. It’s not a conscious thing, necessarily, but it still passes messages to other supras.”
“Others? What, like vamps can smell it?”
“Some. Usually, the older ones. But what Eren is getting at is referencing Levi and Erwin’s natural scents blending more which requires them to be touching. They weren’t like that before.”
“So, when I get a whiff of wet dog, I’m not actually wrong,” Jean laughed, earning a glare from Eren. “Ok, but seriously, you're saying it's noticeable enough to think they’re dating? Still doesn’t make that much sense to me.”
“I don’t know if they are, but it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if they started.”
“Wait,” Jean’s eyes widened, “really?”
Mike shrugged. “Yeah. Their temperaments seem to work well together. Erwin’s never been one to mesh well with vibrant personality types who enjoy being the life of the party, and would rather be with someone who can challenge him. Levi seems similar in that regard, and he trusts Erwin which is not easily earned. I could see them dating.”
“Huh. I guess I never really considered it before.”
Eren shook his head, his loose shoulder-length hair swaying. “I can’t wait to see them next time. We should place bets. See how long it takes for them to make it official.”
“Orders 33, 34, 35!”
“Finally!” Eren leapt up from the chair and rushed to the taco truck’s window for their food, abandoning the conversation.
“I want the green salsa,” Jean yelled to Eren who waved a hand to show he heard. Satisfied, the reaper turned to Mike. “So, how serious are you about them dating?”
A sly smile split beneath his mustache, “Enough to place a bet on it.”
***
Four days later.
Actions had consequences.
No need for witty commentary or poetic quotes. Just dry and straight to the point fact. Actions equaled reaction which then followed into a formula that branched between what was deemed positive and negative based on societal and moral norms. In the case of having an unstable meltdown and nearly snapping an innocent person’s neck, Erwin would say it was pretty fucking negative.
All that considered, he was surprised by the mild—and let’s say, bland—punishment that Director Shadis issued: A week suspension to quote, “get his shit together and ensure this doesn’t happen again.”
It was a shockingly fair penalty, but Erwin wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If they were benched for a week while Erwin worked remotely, he had no qualms about it. It couldn’t have happened at a better time with Levi’s trauma deciding it didn’t want to be locked away any longer and came out to play. Fortunately, (and that’s comparing to the alternative) after Incident 2.0, Levi’s energy levels had plummeted as depression dragged him down to its sticky depths.
No more broken furniture or property damage. Too exhausted for nightmares. And plenty of opportunities for some comfort and pampering. Erwin wasn’t above doting on the shifter and had taken to experimenting with new distractions for Levi. Puzzles, a ‘new’ book in Latin, and even a handheld gaming device. The latter was accepted with curiosity and lasted a total of 6.4 hours before he set it aside and didn’t pick it up again.
Well, at least he tried.
On the positive end of things, every day that passed the initial slump into depression, Levi had been improving. Initially, he was concerned a week wouldn’t be enough for Levi to recover from his mental break, but the man continued to impress him with his resilience. He couldn’t help thinking the first snow they received had something to do with that as well, capturing Levi’s attention and holding it with better success than the gaming device. By day four, he was practically back to normal, except for the few blank expressions and haunted stares at nothing, which Erwin caught sporadically. Despite the improvement, it took monumental patience and countless reassurances to establish that Erwin didn’t hold it against Levi and the man had nothing to be ashamed of. One would think he was reciting for a play, adjusting his tone and delivery per each situation to find a Shakespear worthy delivery.
When Erwin wasn’t hovering around Levi and polluting the grim’s personal airspace, he was juggling various tasks from the kitchen island. Armed with his wireless mouse, pen behind his ear, and fingers clacking on the keys, he diligently read through every profile, field report, and evidence finding from the recent murder. Hange had sent DMs throughout, asking for updates with Levi between sending morbid photos of the autopsy findings, which was very on par for the vampire. To anyone else, they wouldn't recognize the sentiment being conveyed between close-ups of mauled limbs and a slit throat.
From the team's reports, there were apparently witnesses of the woman being herded out the door of her apartment while appearing drunk from a neighbor. The man said it was two wolvens who were guiding her out, explaining they feared she was suffering from alcohol poisoning and were taking her to the hospital. While wolvens didn’t solidify a link to Tybur necessarily, it still could be a lead if they were following their boss’s orders or belonged to the Fritz pack. Equally, one could admit it was a stretch. A channel-wide stretch, but not outside the realm of possibilities.
And if that didn’t keep Erwin busy, when he wasn’t bouncing between the casework and Levi, he was conducting a few hypotheses of his own regarding the leak(s) in GSIS.
Mike had assured him that Eren wasn’t in contact with Zeke and they both trusted the young wolven to be honest above all else. He was the sort of person that had an unmovable moral compass which was more like a damn sundial. Everyone had to work around him. So, unless he had some alternative espionage assignment and was working as a double agent, there was no reason to believe he’d lie over something so simple.
Hange hadn’t had any success exploiting the employees in the bowels of the federal building. Even the people she invited over for their movie nights were cleared and unsuspecting, which put Erwin further on edge. Each avenue was meeting dead ends and if he hadn’t heard the specific details from Tybur’s own sharp mouth, he would’ve suspected he was sent on a wild goose chase.
But that wasn’t what was happening. There was a leak, or multiple, and if Erwin wanted them to stay afloat, he needed to find them before Tybur capitalized on the sinking vessel. There was only so much leniency Levi was afforded, and they were already scraping the bottom of the barrel of Shadis’ generosity.
Having extended the search further out, Erwin connected with Pixis over a phone call to ask if he had any luck. The Chief explained he was investigating the police force, but wasn’t pulling much from the lines he cast. The metaphorical bait he strategically sprinkled around remained untouched, but he reassured Erwin that he wasn’t giving up. He agreed Tybur knew too much for it to be a coincidence, and he too feared it was someone close to the reaper who was feeding the vampire intel.
“Your home, Levi’s circumstances, the case. It only makes sense it’s someone who you’ve come across recently. Or someone they are close to. The leak could be a secondary person rather than a direct contact to you...”
Erwin considered what Pixis proposed, finding he was in agreement with the Chief, though was too busy contemplating how to adjust his hunt to notice the man trail off. When Pixis spoke again, it was clipped as if something came to his attention and he threw out a quick ‘talk later’ before hanging up.
While it didn’t provide viable leads, it did give Erwin new ideas moving forward. He sent a quick message to Hange and Mike, then tabled that errand for the time being.
Behind him, he could hear the news channel playing reruns of the unrest from the living room. With the C.B.’s latest string of murders leaked after Hannes' death, the local anchors were wringing the story for all its worth. PETA-W and other organizations jumped at the chance to dispute it was a feral wolven who was committing these crimes and argued for lesser regulations being formed. On the other end of the dispute, it was the typical fear baited reaction: people terrified for their children’s lives and going out at night.
A monster was loose and apparently the leak of evocation runes escalated the public’s unease, reminding Erwin of witch trials and satanic panic. Even necromancy snuck its way into a few conversations fueled by pagan fears, with some hypotheses of a witch with a wolven follower.
If that wasn't enough, there were behavioralists on talk shows explaining the consequences of a single rogue wolven and what that could mean regarding copy-cats and followers. The last thing the public needed to hear was a mad wolven potentially creating a murderous pack. They even brought up cases like Ted Bundy where he had a fan-following of young women who could’ve been his victim if their paths had crossed prior to his arrest, yet that didn’t deter their devotion. It was a strange world they lived in, and none of it helped put out the flames.
The fact the story of the serial killer was well past national news only reinforced Erwin’s fears of Levi being manipulated into another attack. If anyone at that theater had hinted at the event to the reporters outside, he was sure Levi would’ve been locked away by now, instead of lounging on the chair and watching the snow flurries through the window. It was a stark dichotomy in front of his very eyes:
The television spewing fear and prejudice in the background.
Levi curled in his grim form in the single chair, head propped on the armrest while peacefully drinking in the view of the white world outside.
Despite the typical cloud cover distinct to the Pacific Northwest, the sky was bright and glared off the accumulation of powder that made up the alpine blanket. The thick flurries wafted listlessly towards the earth, reminiscent of white moths lazy in their descent. So detached from what polluted the living room from the news. The window illuminated Levi’s sable coat, reminding him of raven feathers that turned iridescent in the light. Thankfully, Levi’s fur didn’t harbor secret colors or else that’d raise more questions they couldn’t answer, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it did. Maybe on a microscopic level, he’d catch hints of plum purples and sapphire blues, if he truly looked.
No. He was being ridiculous.
And he was staring.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, he dropped his attention to the laptop, hoping to break his focus away from the grim. But the longer he stared at the screen, the less motivation he summoned to continue.
They had another day, and the weekend, before they were scheduled to return to GSIS. A short time to enjoy their reprieve and all Erwin was doing was pouring hours into the reports and giving his consultation where he found necessary. It was equal parts responsibility and a distraction—or better, an excuse—to not devote his time with Levi. If anyone asked, it was because he was on the clock and didn’t want to pester the grim unnecessarily. It certainly had nothing to do with his growing feelings for the man except to maybe stuff them far away.
Safe to conclude that Marie’s concerns had effectively left their imprint, causing him to doubt Erwin's own integrity.
She was absolutely correct in pointing out the blatant power imbalance between him and Levi. It wasn’t the fact that it was news to him; he recognized it himself before the private conversation with his ex-fiancé. The difference was that he had shelved the admission away after acknowledging it, telling himself he wouldn’t take advantage, and that was the end of the revelation. Turns out, it was an irresponsible solution on his end.
It wasn’t even a week later when Erwin proved to himself of Levi’s disadvantage when he forced the man into a dissociative episode in the supply closet against. The fact it didn't take a significant effort on Erwin’s end to achieve it made it worse; particularly with the ensuing panic that Levi fell into from being so vulnerable feeling like a punch to the gut. He taken advantage of his power right then against Levi’s wishes, regardless of well-intentions.
It was easy to take a step back and admit it was an accident. That it was even necessary for Levi and everyone else’s safety. But that didn’t make it right, nor was it ok to justify Levi’s lack of freedom and autonomy. If it was Eren or anyone else that had acted as such, there would have been different measures taken to calm them down which didn’t force them into a prison in their own mind, and yet Erwin ignored those.
Marie hit the nail on the head with that one, even though she didn’t realize the details.
So, yeah. Distraction was a good strategy to counter his bothersome feelings for Levi. Because they did exist. And they were very bothersome, indeed.
As a result, the last few days he tried to limit his touch with the man. He thought he was doing pretty well with his little self-assigned task too, except Levi didn’t seem to pick up on the change. Or he was simply too depressed to realize what he was doing, because the fact the grim was initiating more contact seemed like the universe was mocking Erwin. Testing just how strong his resolve was in the face of his not-even 5’ 5” desire.
He was at a crossroads. Despite his tenacity to not jump moral boundaries, he wasn’t heartless to deny Levi the comfort he clearly craved. But he was having a hell of a time trying to stay impersonal. Every time Levi leaned his head on his shoulder, or even used his leg as a pillow, Erwin swore his heart swelled double its damn size, crowding his lungs in his chest. And then Levi would reach out and wrap his fingers around Erwin’s wrist, searching for the simplest skin contact and Erwin had no willpower to deny him. It just wasn’t fair.
He wanted to pursue whatever was growing between them. Selfishly. But that was ultimately what it amounted to: selfishness and wrong on many levels. It didn’t matter what Levi wanted when it came to their imbalance. Not when staying distant was for the shifter’s benefit in the long run.
But Erwin knew himself. He knew he was no saint. How could he take the moral high ground with all the things he’s done in the past? From gleaning with no remorse, aiding the death count in plagues, to volunteering for world level conflict, and even carrying specific favors, like overthrowing Peter III under Cathrine the Great’s request in 1762. He wasn’t naturally an altruistic person, and the favors had a caveat for something he could gain or assert his own values toward. So, why sit here and pretend that he was righteous by smothering his emotions away when the subject of his evolving affection was reaching out to him?
Because I’m not going to treat Levi like a damn prize. I won’t stoop to Tybur’s level or encourage Levi’s feelings into something they shouldn’t be.
But what if he wants it, the little voice in his mind countered.
Levi probably wasn’t in a position to know what he wanted.
No, wait. That came off as distasteful... Levi had too much going on to really consider what the consequences would be if Erwin allowed it to continue. Right? Or was Erwin being presumptuous by assuming what Levi wanted?
Gods, he didn’t know. Erwin only wanted to do right by Levi and not be a complete and total ass, while also not entirely banning physical contact between them. Some touch was ok so long that it was consensual, surely. He didn’t have to pull away cold turkey. Just... all in moderation.
The screen of his laptop fell dormant causing Erwin to reluctantly admit defeat. Productivity was not going to happen, clearly. Glancing over to the grim, he saw Levi hadn’t moved from his place, but his eyes had fallen shut.
Maybe it was time to put his ‘moderation’ rule into practice. Change things up a little. He had a feeling Levi would be game for some interaction.
***
“The fuck is this?”
When Erwin had come back from... wherever he disappeared to, followed by instructing Levi to put warm clothes on and meet him outside, he wasn’t expecting this. Seriously, what the hell was the guy thinking? Was this a joke? It felt like a joke. Was Mike hiding around the car?
“I think it’s obvious what it is,” Erwin replied humorously, as if he wasn’t losing his damned mind at that very minute. “I even got you boots for it.”
Levi crossed his arms over his chest, aiming his best deadpanned glare at the smirking reaper. His butterscotch hair was mused over his forehead, peeking through the blue beanie snug on his head. A nearly matching scarf wrapped around Erwin’s neck, tails tucked under his jacket as he held up each abomination on either side of him.
A pair of skis and a snowboard.
“I figured we could take advantage of the hills at the back of the property. Have you ever done this before?”
“Have you?” Levi retorted, feeling like the reaper was going through some life-crisis.
“Of course. These are my skis. I’m actually decent at it,” he answered proudly.
“And you thought I’d like to snowboard?”
For the first time, Erwin hesitated as he ventured, “Would you rather ski? I can go back and get a set for you instead—”
“No, you’re missing the point. I’ve never done either before, and I really wasn’t looking to break my neck today.”
The reaper had the gall—the fucking gall—to roll his eyes at Levi.
“You won’t break your neck. You’re athletic enough that I’m sure you’ll pick it up easily.”
Levi may not break his own neck, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to resist wringing Erwin’s by the end of the day.
Rubbing at his temple, he sighed. He could dig his heels in and tell Erwin he wasn’t interested. That a run or walk was better suited in the snow than strapping his feet to an object that lacked brakes, but the reaper’s exuberance was charming enough to halt all protests. Sweet hell, the man looked years younger with a stupid smile on his face that didn’t even dim against Levi’s grouchiness. Then again, the guy was probably building up some inhuman tolerance to the shifter’s moody disposition.
It's what Levi deserved, he supposed.
“Right...”
Erwin waited with near bated breath for Levi to decide, as if the shifter could bring himself to dampen the man’s mood. He wasn’t a dick. Plus, it was appealing to spend some time with Erwin after laying around the living room, bored out of his mind all week and feeling like he’d been run over.
“Alright, Blondie. You better have some good advice so I’m not eating shit the whole time.”
“I know enough,” he replied cryptically handing the snowboard over to Levi.
He accepted the object that may be what finally kills him, followed by the thick, inflexible boots. Perhaps it was his own sanity that was being called into question for agreeing to this. Whatever. If it made the man happy, Levi would entertain the distraction.
Erwin led the way to the hills he had in mind, snow crunching beneath his boots as he walked with a sway through the accumulated pack. Levi’s own steps were noisy but not as distinct in comparison. Had he been in his grim form, he wouldn’t be making a sound with his widely spaced, padded paws. Perhaps on the way back, he’d have Erwin take custody of the snowboard while he shifted and had a romp around the woods to expel any extra energy.
The fresh powder was pillow-soft with the top layer turning crystalline. Little bursts of clouds escaped past his lips as he took in the otherworldly feel of the forest. Branches hung and curled under the weight of the snow, sparkling through the dappled sunlight breaching the canopy. The sounds of the woods were muted, ironically reminding him of a white, padded room. That was only due to how virgin the snow was. If temperatures dropped and the ground cemented with ice, it’d refract sound rather than suppress it. He recalled that important detail from a particular evasion in the Alps.
“When was the last time you’ve enjoyed the snow, Levi?” Erwin asked, half a step ahead.
He considered it for some time, recalling that it had been longer even before he and Izzy were captured. That winter before, they were in Gibraltar, Spain. The year before that... he was pretty sure Italy. Or Croatia. It all started to blend after a while, but both places were warm enough to avoid it.
“Maybe ‘91? Or ‘90? Pretty sure it was Austria.”
Erwin absorbed the information before asking a follow-up. “Do you like winter? Or are you a warmer weather type of person? I’d hate to make assumptions based on being a hellhound and all.”
Levi huffed. “Autumn is probably my favorite. Not hot and not cold. But I don’t mind winter. It made it harder to survive alone, though. Relied a lot on my grim form to get me by.”
“I admit, I hadn’t really considered what you had to go through when alone. Keeping your identity secret after the Treaty must’ve been a whole new headache when documentation began to matter for Supras.”
“Between that and World Wars breaking out across Europe, yeah. There were a few times I considered finding a way off the continent completely, but too chicken shit to commit unless I knew I had a way back. Would’ve hated to have been stuck somewhere with no plan to get out.” Levi shrugged. “It worked in the end. Found Furlan who forged documents for me and had a companion to talk to for a few years.”
Levi could feel melancholy stir in his chest, but thankfully he was able to put the topic away once Erwin stopped. He gestured toward the hills that began the descent toward the meadow and flashed Levi with a grin.
“Well? Not too intimidating for a starter hill, right?”
Levi eyed the trees and skeletal shrubs that specked the hillside, enough to block the view of the river and valley he recalled were just below. With a scoff, he plopped the snowboard onto the ground, measuring how it slid a few inches without prompting.
“Right. And how soon are you expecting me to take myself out with one of the trees?”
“Don’t be so pessimistic. I know how agile you are. This’ll be nothing.”
Levi sighed again, cursing internally at the chosen terrain to learn. He could practically hear Hange having a laugh while choosing his headstone and writing his autopsy report. Levi, Cause of Death: sliding headfirst into a fucking tree.
“Ok, wise one. Tell me how to do this.”
Erwin grinned and stepped closer with the boots in hand.
Come to find out, Erwin’s ‘I know enough’ prelude was appropriately vague. The dominant foot was usually placed in the back to steer. Keep the core tight and center of the board. If he wanted to slow down or stop, then bend the knees and dig heels down. That was the extent of it.
Helpful.
Despite his hesitancy, Levi followed the directions and, with Erwin helping him stand up, gave it a shot. Unsurprisingly, he fell. And fell again. The only saving grace was he hadn’t lost control and plummeted into a tree, so there was that. Not to mention, the fresh snow provided a soft landing on his knees and ass.
But damn if Erwin wasn’t right that he’d pick it up quickly. By the third run down the hill, Levi had managed to maintain some mocking sense of control even if he was slow as fuck. He couldn’t bring himself to care though. He fucking did it, and after the week of moping and feeling wrung out, it was the perfect dopamine hit to pick his mood up.
“I knew you’d get the hang of it,” Erwin grinned, holding his poles out of the snow as he praised Levi. “Ready to go again?”
They spent the next hour carving down the hills. Erwin would ski ahead and wait or mark a path through the trees to challenge Levi to follow. He continued to fall on his ass, and suspected that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon, but he was managing on stopping and adjusting his angles to weave through obstacles. Not great, but satisfactory.
When they stopped to take a break, Levi detached from the board and sat between the straps to avoid his pants getting any wetter than they already were. From where he perched, absently swaying the board back and forth beneath him, he watched Erwin stab his skis and poles into the snow. Then the reaper proceeded to peel his gloves off with his teeth before kneeling to adjust his socks and trouser legs. It was difficult to watch the man’s back move beneath the thick outerwear, but he had stared enough to memorize the muscles tracking as Erwin’s shoulders shifted. Courtesy of observing hours of cooking while Levi helped chop up vegetables at the kitchen island.
Levi found himself blowing out a long, pained exhale. There was an invisible weight in his jacket pocket that he placed there himself and hadn’t let up all day. He was holding onto it for the last two weeks, debating whether he was an idiot or just overthinking it. There wasn’t a time in his memories that he could remember gifting someone something for the sake of wanting to. Well, aside from small things for Izzy and Furlan—and even further back for his mum and Mikasa.
But Erwin would appreciate the gesture, surely. The questions were, would it be too much? Was Levi showing his hand too soon? And would it be received negatively?
Levi didn’t even know if Erwin was strictly straight or not, and the last thing he wanted was to misread the signs and make an ass of himself. Just the idea of awkwardness coming from a colossal misstep made him cringe and shrivel inward. The only thing he had going for him was Hange’s silly comments of them being together and Erwin kissing his head and shoulders. But for all he knew, Hange was being her annoying self and that was just Erwin’s way of offering comfort to him. Supras didn’t hold personal touch hostage like mortals did and commonly were affectionate with others, whereas humans only did so with family or partners.
So, yes. Levi could have been misreading Erwin’s intentions, but at least his gift was subtle. If he got any indication that Erwin was getting cold feet from the meaning, Levi could simply spin it around to something friendly at most. Nothing more. There was even the excuse of flowers from Erwin that seemed to hold more implication than Levi's gift. Sort of. Regardless, he just wanted to know if it was only him who felt the connection or not.
And sure. Maybe being as touch starved as he was may have clouded his judgement a bit. But he couldn’t deny he was attracted to Erwin. Had learned to trust and respect the reaper in the months of being together. And there were feelings beyond physical gratification, that he was certain of.
Listening to Hange and Petra—and devils, even Mike’s damn comment—conjured involuntary what-if scenarios. He always loathed ‘what-ifs’ believing they were a trap to make yourself feel like shit when initiated by hindsight, but looking at the future was different.
What if they were interested in pushing forward with a relationship? They were practically living together already, Erwin had seen most of his demons, and Levi accepted the man’s rather bad habit of controlling situations and people for his end goals. They worked well with one another and really, aside from committing to the idea and progressing physically, there wouldn't have been much difference than what they were already.
Summoning his courage and picking up a handful of snow, he compacted a neat ball and lugged it at the reaper’s back. The thunk that landed jolted the man forward as he startled, whipping his head around with widened eyes. Levi allowed a smirk to play across his lips which had Erwin glaring dryly. A retaliating snowball sailed at him a split second later, messy and not entirely formed, but Levi luckily ducked to miss the bulk of it in time. Sadly, his maneuver wasn’t the cleanest and his board started to slide down the slope before he could dig his feet into the snow.
Erwin noticed immediately and closed the distance within two strides before his boot landed on the board, stopping Levi’s side quest toward the river, then the reaper emitted a breathy laugh at making it in time. It wasn’t a terrible laugh. Nothing to write home about, Levi told himself so as not to acknowledge the flutter in his gut.
“If you lose control of the board now, I can’t take responsibility if you get hurt,” Erwin teased.
“Then help me up, Blondie.”
Erwin held out his hand which Levi accepted, then was hauled to his feet before Erwin picked up the board and stuck one end in the snowpack.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Erwin continued, dusting frost from Levi’s coat. “Figured it was a change from just sitting in the cabin.”
“Yeah, it’s been fun,” Levi replied truthfully, meeting Erwin’s gaze with a twitch of his lips. “Thanks for suggesting it.” Well, what are you waiting for? Now’s the perfect time. “I... er. I had something I meant to give you earlier and I forgot.”
Somehow, he managed to not fidget or stumble over his white lie as Erwin blinked. “Oh?”
There was a beat where Levi didn’t know that to say. The longer he stared at Erwin, the more his confidence began to bow under the pressure of uncertainty. This was a stupid plan. Why was he doing this? Was he some sort of masochist?
Plan A, just give it to him and let Erwin read between the lines and maybe not feel like Levi wasn’t misinterpretation the cues. Plan B, if Erwin seemed uncomfortable with it, pretend it was just a weird spur of the moment thought and ignore the crumbling disappointment that followed.
“Uh, yeah. Hold out your hand.”
Erwin did without any delay, eager to see what Levi had planned. It was both reassuring and nerve-wracking. Reaching into his pocket, he felt the small, fragile item and retrieved it, placing it in Erwin’s outstretched palm and closed the man’s fingers to buy him a second or two before it was revealed.
Erwin accepted the gift, unfurling his fingers to see what the grim handed him and –oh. That was indeed a reaction.
Erwin’s amused smirk faltered and slipped from his face as he lifted the item closer to examine it. Between his index and thumb, he carefully held it by the stem as his eyes widened a fraction more, but it wasn’t in dislike. Thankfully. More like shy disbelief. So, that was something.
“A four-leaf clover,” he met Levi’s gaze where admiration crested with the forming smile. “Did you make this yourself?”
Levi pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he glanced at the origami page he had ripped from a book. “Uh, yeah. It’s been a while since I made one, but you’re able to open it and read the page.”
“I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t. I can fold it back to shape afterwards.” Did he say that too fast?
If he did, Erwin didn’t seem to notice it as he gently, and cautiously, unfolded the clover revealing more of the page until it was a wrinkled mess. He didn’t smooth it out, as if afraid to compromise the creases, but read over the annotated section Levi had marked. The Symposium from Plato was probably an odd choice given the others Levi had at his fingertips, but many were a bit too on the nose for what he was trying to imply. Far too risky for what the gift's intended purpose was for. No, this option was much safer.
When Erwin’s gaze traced across the lines once, then again, he read the passage aloud the third time, solidifying the words into the brisk atmosphere.
“It is clear that the soul of each wants something else which it cannot put into words but it feels instinctively what it wants and expresses it in riddles.” Erwin’s attention shifted up and his voice was thick with emotion that felt far warmer than the winter around them. “You picked this specifically for me?”
“Yeah,” Levi admitted in a whisper. He wanted to default to something witty and sarcastic but could barely form a proper sentence as he waited.
The reaper followed the words with his fingers, then reached to take Levi’s hand in his only to place the paper between both palms. “I’m afraid I don’t have a meaningful gift to return.”
“It’s not really that special,” Levi muttered, not exactly buying his own words. It wasn’t. It was just a page. But it also was because Levi had subtly put it out there that he wanted more. Erwin may or may not have picked it up, however Levi knew he was clever. If he interpreted it for the real meaning, he’d realize what the gesture truly meant.
“Don’t say that. You have a talent, Levi. I don’t think you realize what sort of impact you have, even with something as subtle as literature.”
Levi couldn’t bring himself to meet Erwin’s gaze as he took the page and folded it back into shape, careful not to ruin it despite his numb fingertips. When he finished, he passed the clover to Erwin who accepted it along with using his larger hand to envelop Levi’s a second time.
He allowed his attention to linger where they connected, then with some effort, lifted it to Erwin’s face. “I can’t complain if I leave some sort of imprint.”
The reaper let out a deep silent breath and the only way Levi knew was the warm plume of wispy coils that dispersed between them. He was looking at Levi with such intensity that Levi wasn’t sure what to do or whether to risk moving or not. In the last week, he tried to sort through these thoughts and determine if it was only a passing urge or if he was genuine in pursuing it, however he never let the fantasies go far. He was so emotionally battered that it felt impossible to sort just what he was feeling through the layers of numbness, that he knew how inept he was with conveying his thoughts. But staring at Erwin, who looked like he was trying to pierce into Levi’s skull and scoop out his intentions, made reality feel like it was speeding off the tracks.
“You give yourself too little credit,” Erwin’s voice dropped even lower, almost sounding strained with something Levi couldn’t name. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
There was a sudden interest in Erwin’s scarf, unable to look higher at the cold fire gaze peering at him. His heart was in his throat, and he tried to tell himself: this was what he wanted. An answer of some kind. Even as a burning sensation crept up to his elbow, Erwin’s finger on his wrist’s pulse point, he had nothing to say to the reaper. He could only wait for the man to decide what to do next.
The reaper’s free hand touched his chin, directing his gaze up so they were face to face, searching for something in the shifter. And, evidently, he found what he needed. As Levi opened his mouth to attempt at saying something, any potential words were swallowed as Erwin disbanded the space.
There was only so much tenderness they could afford the kiss once the seal was broken. The hand that was pressed against Levi’s jaw found a new home in his hair where fingers twitched against his scalp, desiring to be rough but refrained. No space remained between them as Erwin pushed against Levi, guiding him a few feet until his back was against the tree. There was clear restraint being practiced from the reaper’s side, and the thought of Levi having access to things potentially turning rougher sent a spark of excitement up his spine.
Savoring the gentleness for now, he moved his lips in tandem to Erwin’s, trailing his free hand up the man’s chest and tilting his head to allow deeper access. A warm tongue prodded at his bottom lip that allowed entrance instantly, responding in kind as the tempo picked up and a small noise squeezed out of Levi’s throat. It encouraged Erwin who pressed closer, sliding his tongue over Levi’s, then against the roof of his mouth.
The shifter felt like a weight had been lifted from him so quickly it left him with vertigo. The steady rhythm kept him grounded even when his knees felt weak upon realizing that this was happening. Erwin was reciprocating just as he hoped, and it was exhilarating and surprising and goddamn terrifying. The soft, timid kiss from before no longer existed. Erwin was determined in his task to taste Levi in every way and devour each sound he made.
When they broke apart for air, he wasn’t prepared for the ravenous look of Erwin, from his flushed cheeks to dilated pupils. Their bodies remained slotted together, connected and sharing breaths. The contact alone was enough to generate electricity through every part of Levi, especially when the reaper was pinning him in a way as if fearing he would try to escape.
But that wasn’t all. There was a different layer beneath the blown eyes and arousal; hesitation. Like maybe Erwin wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue or pull away. It doused something in Levi’s gut that maybe Erwin was regretting this. Perhaps it was some sexual identity crisis, or he didn’t like kissing Levi and thought it was a terrible mistake.
Fuck.
A broken sigh left Erwin’s throat as he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead onto Levi’s shoulder. It sounded pained and caused Levi to stiffen as he waited to echo the regret the reaper was likely feeling. This was a stupid decision. He never should’ve annotated that passage.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Erwin mumbled into his jacket, voice sounding rough from the kiss.
He didn’t pull away, and despite feeling like an axe cracked into his chest, Levi continued to wait where he was. At the very least, he could savor the closeness and warmth for a second longer before Erwin retreated completely.
But then, the reaper amended his prior statement, giving the briefest balm to Levi’s aching insides, “I shouldn’t be doing this. Nor should you want this.”
“What?” Levi asked obtusely as his mind tried to understand the man’s angle.
Erwin’s hand slipped from his hair, surprising Levi by the jolt of fear and rejection that single movement stirred. When Erwin lifted his head Levi gripped his jacket to keep him from retreating entirely. Words escaped him just as much as he didn’t want to hear what Erwin’s response was. Instead, he kissed the man again, sighing into Erwin’s mouth when there was no hesitation on reciprocating it. Whatever had the reaper regretting this, they couldn’t deny that there was something between them, something they both craved.
If Erwin was going to end it before anything started, Levi wanted him to be damn sure before he crumbled in disappointment.
The hand returned to Levi’s hair and tightened, giving into the kiss for a beat longer before breaking it. As Erwin watched Levi, his inner turmoil clear as day in his eyes, Levi blurted a response out before he could say anything.
“I don't think you have a right to make judgements on what I want.”
Erwin swallowed and looked like he was fighting to form an argument. But Levi stubbornly pressed on.
“If you don’t... want this, that is—then fine. I’ll respect your wishes, but you can’t tell me I shouldn’t.”
“Levi,” he sighed like a prayer, closing his eyes and dropping his chin. “You shouldn’t. I’m not saying that to be controlling. I’m telling you our situation doesn’t make it so easy.”
“And this is news to me how? Nothing about any of it has been easy. Why would you expect this to be different?”
“It’s wrong, for starters.”
“How?”
Erwin opened his eyes and glanced at Levi through his lashes. “People could view this as me abusing my power over you, and you... not having a choice in the matter.”
Oh.
Levi felt his prior irritation morph into cold shock, then anger crested over his surprise. Of course, how could he have forgotten that? The outside world looked at Erwin’s sponsorship while Levi earned his naturalization as a form of master and pet dynamic. A lesser being needing training and rehabilitation to function like a normal person because of his canine form. No wonder Erwin was regretting it. If word got out, that’d impact his reputation negatively.
“Right.” Levi’s tone felt colorless just as the prior storm of emotions petered out like a damp fire. “I wouldn’t want to make anything worse for you, after everything you’ve done for me already.”
Maybe it was easier this way. Levi wanted his answer, and he got it. At the very least, he was able to experience what it could’ve been, though he wasn’t sure if that was kindness or cruelty.
“That’s not—no.” Erwin appeared distraught from Levi’s deadened reply, not helping either situation as he kept his hands on the shifter. “I’m not saying this to benefit me, Levi. I need you to understand that. The last thing I want is to abuse the obvious control I have and hurt you.”
“How would you hurt me?” Levi asked, feeling a spark of anger return quicker and hotter than he anticipated. “At what point during this did you think I was getting hurt if I’m making it clear I want it?”
Erwin paused, mouth opening and shutting before he gathered his thoughts together. “I can make you disassociate at will, Levi. I could take advantage of you.”
“And I could wake up in the same dazed state and kill you. Does that mean I’m barred from physical contact and relationships for the rest of my life?” Levi tried to not raise his voice and ignore how it felt like the conversation was picking at an opened wound, but fuck if he wasn’t stressing out now.
It all came back to Tybur. His situation with WMC, his fucked-up problems and inability to function like a devil’s damned normal person. And now Erwin was saying he couldn’t even allow himself something as simple as a relationship with the same person he’d come to trust and respect?
“Take a breath, that’s not it at all.”
“We’ve been sharing a bed all week. If that’s just because you don’t fucking trust me then maybe locking me in a room or a cage would be better for both of us.”
“Levi—stop. That’s not what I meant— of course, I trust you.”
“Just not enough to know what I want and trust my judgement.”
Erwin sighed and leaned down to place a chaste kiss to Levi’s lips as if that would shut him up. It apparently worked as the shifter didn’t say anything else while Erwin rested his forehead against his.
“I want this too, Levi. And I’m not degrading your own desires. I’m just... If this was something we decided to pursue, I want us to be equals. The problem I have is that we aren’t able to be truthful about it in public, and it doesn’t negate that I obviously have power over your decisions. That doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Well, for one, I hate going out in public anyway, so that’s not a huge problem.”
Erwin scoffed.
“And two, our situation is shit. I agree with that, but I don’t think I want to go on denying things that would make me happy. You too. It’s not just about me. If you want this as well, and we can agree to make everything as equal as what’s in our power to do so, then what more is there?”
The reaper contemplated him, pulling away enough to take in the earnestness Levi was sure was displaying across his face. “And if I have to make another demonstration in front of an official again? If someone questions us and we have to prove our roles?”
“We’ve done it before. I understand the necessity of it. It’s not like I’m going to suddenly hold it against you.”
“You really know how to make it difficult on me to deny you.”
“Consider it karma for making me snowboard.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. I caught you smiling.”
Despite the heavy topic, Levi smirked with a chuffed laugh. “You didn’t see shit.”
A fond smile broke free and Erwin dipped down to kiss Levi again, tongue seeking permission that had the shifter melting into it. Before it could deepen again, Erwin’s phone rang from his jacket pocket, sounding shrill in the hushed wilderness around them. The reaper groaned against Levi’s lips, procrastinating in pulling away completely while his hand fished the device free. Without looking at the caller's name, he gave one last kiss to Levi before answering.
“Smith speaking.”
Levi could hear a male voice that he recognized as Mike, telling Erwin he needed to come into work.
The reaper appeared to only share half his attention, eyes creeping down to Levi’s lips which were likely flushed, swollen, and glistening.
“It’s a bad time, mate. Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”
“No, it really can’t,” Mike’s grim tone leaked through the speaker. “Erwin... It’s Pixis.”
Notes:
Strap in. Things are about to become turbulent.
I’m really happy with the chapter, even though it did get away in a few spots meaning it ended up being longer than intended. But oh well. Hope you enjoyed that it took over 300k words to reach a simple freaken kiss 😅
Thank you for all the amazing comments and sticking to it this long! I really appreciate everyone spending time giving the story a shot! Until next time, stay safe!! 🖤🩶
Chapter 28: End of Watch
Notes:
TW in end notes. Sorry, it's a longer chapter than I intended.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The too bright lights spilled from the vaulted rotunda, casting a clinical glow across polished Alaskan Tokeen marble and Wilkeson sandstone pillars. The great bronze chandelier remained unlit overhead, though its presence loomed like a silent judge.
Between two Corinthian columns, centered on the steps and overlooking the rotunda floor, the man hung ominously by his wrists with coarse rope. Mouth agape toward the ceiling with blood pooling at his feet, his head dropped unnaturally behind his strained shoulders, creating a near headless image when viewing from the base of the stairs. The morbid picture followed the thickening fluid which dribbled down the steps and over the bronze replica of the state seal set in the floor.
Despite the briny gusts intruding through the opened front doors, the scent was cold and metallic, mingling from the coagulated blood near the evidence markers. Outside the windows, the flags across the lawn waved in their niches, the fabrics snapping with the breeze and strobing with the red and blue patrol lights. No footprints disturbed the river of blood beneath Pixis’ body. No urgency from EMT’s as the Chief was pronounced dead on scene. Just the deliberate tableau for the agency to interpret and catalogue for a new investigation. Another photo to display on their conference board.
The Chief's naked torso was ashen in contrast to the rich marble, rope biting into frail wrists and one of his elbows had an unnatural jut, undoubtedly dislocated. Whoever strung Pixis up made sure that his bare feet hovered inches above the floor, as if teetering between justice and oblivion white he faced the capitol's entrance.
“Can’t say I saw this coming,” Mike spoke whisper-quiet beside Erwin, hands crammed inside his pockets and dark crescents under his eyes. “This wasn’t just a murder, they were sending a message... Fucking brutalized the poor man. Dot didn’t deserve this.”
Erwin’s jaw ached from how hard it clenched while he took in the macabre spectacle once more, feeling it was his responsibility to look. To memorize each detail.
The evocation seal, like the other bodies, was carved into the Chief’s flesh, though the unsub chose to do so on the forehead. Eyes were scooped out of his skull, optic nerves still attached leaving the lifeless orbs to dangle and sway against his high cheekbones. Sticky gore painted the pallid skin mixing with the arterial mess that coated down the human’s torso and back. His head was barely connected by the stressed vertebrae, twisted behind itself as if someone had sawed a serrated knife through his throat while wrenching his head as far as it could go without decapitation. As for the maulings from other victims of the C.B. moniker, there were few found on Pixis’ limbs, almost done as an afterthought.
The scene was haunting. There was no specific neoclassical art coming to mind as inspiration. However, selecting the capitol building was deliberate, but for what purpose, it remained a mystery. The setting, the method, the fact it was the team’s friend and local’s Police Chief.
Indeed, it had all the traits of a punishment.
“Sorry to say this,” Hange spoke, coming up the steps with Moblit and the gurney to transport the body, “but I’m suspecting majority of the injuries were done antemortem. Of course, I won’t know for sure until I run tests and check bloodwork.” When they reached the landing beside Mike and Erwin, Hange pulled to a stop but didn’t take her eyes away from the cadaver. “Gods damn it all. Poor bastard should’ve retired ages ago.”
“The man was stubborn and still had a young soul. He wasn’t ready to give this up,” Erwin summed, finding a smidge of relief that the man’s spirit had not been fractured from the traumatic and cruel ending he met. He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to stand there quietly if Pixis’ soul hadn’t managed to move onto the Netherworld, forever cursed to wander in limbo in the living realm.
“Well, he’s a git,” Hange snapped, glaring at the Chief. “A right bastard for this. He was supposed to live decades more before he passed quietly and, instead, he pulls this stunt?”
“Hange,” Moblit softly chastised. “Please. Not here.”
The vampire sighed, shaking her head. “Fine.” She swiveled her attention to Mike and Erwin. “You guys get everything? Can we get him down now?”
Mike nodded solemnly, slapping the back of his hand to Erwin’s chest in an unspoken message to come with him. The pair left Moblit and Hange with the remaining agents to free Pixis from his post, descending the stone staircase and out the building to the sidewalk that took them to the parking lot.
The area at the base of the capitol building was polluted with police and agents alike. Officers from the Olympia precinct remained on diligent watch and out of the way of GSIS personnel, knowing they were barred from investigating the death of one of their own. But the rapport between the agencies had always been amicable with Chief Pixis as liaison, which was probably the only reason there hadn’t been fights breaking out or demands for information to be shared.
As Erwin wove between the officers and vehicles, Mike diligently on his heels, he nodded to Nanaba and the team who hovered near Hange’s specialiaze ambulance, talking amongst themselves. He already touched base with them prior to evaluating the crime scene and had nothing more to say. Despite being mentally drained, his mind continued to string theories together relentlessly, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice any just yet. He needed time. Time to absorb it all and determine what had to be done next.
Mike didn’t press for answers. Instead, he followed Erwin to the SUV where the passenger door opened, cab light flicking on to cast a glow over Levi’s face before it shut off with the closure. The grim rounded the hood of the vehicle, arms crossing as he canted a hip against the headlight.
“How're you doing, Levi?” Mike greeted, a strained curl of his lips trying to form a semblance of a smile and failing.
Levi shrugged, eyes measuring the bleakness that clung to them like wraiths. “Should be asking you two that. But I think I know the answer.”
Erwin’s feet planted between him and Mike, turning to look over his shoulder at the building where Hange and Moblit were guiding the gurney down the front stairs, black body bag strapped atop.
“I may have mentioned it before,” Erwin broached, voice flat and empty, “but Pixis was looking into a mole in his department.” With some effort, he yanked his eyes from the capitol building to meet Mike. “I suspect he found who it was.”
The man’s brows dipped beneath the sideswept bangs, sending a cursory stare at the officers crowding the flagpoles. “You’re suggesting that he got too close and they took him out.”
“It’s the only reason I can find that they’d target him. Pixis had very little interaction with Levi, so it wasn’t a ploy to get to him. And there was no art behind it. No wolven message like Hannes. And we’ve already distinguished that it’s a different killer from Eric carrying these recent ones out. He had to of worked out whose been leaking information to Tybur.”
Mike cursed and rubbed his hands down his face. It was the most exhausted the wolven had been in a while and Erwin was sure the man would collapse right there if given the opportunity.
“This is fucking mess. We’re already going to be running an internal investigation on his precinct, but now we have to play a second angle and figure out a potential mole? You do know what kind of storm this’ll stir if the officers realize they’re being investigated not only for what happened with their Chief—whom they all seem to respect the hell out of—but also ties for the C.B. case. There’s no fucking way we can send Jean and Eren in to do that—it’s too delicate. They aren’t experienced enough to manage it and not tip the officers off.”
“I’ll help wherever I can. You have me at your disposal.”
Mike tipped his chin toward Levi. “And what about him? You’re both concerned if Levi’s alone at the cabin, Tybur could make a move to retrieve him.”
“He wouldn’t do it himself,” Levi retorted dryly. “Which is annoying, because I’d welcome him to try.”
Erwin didn’t bother to acknowledge Levi’s strange morbid wish to confront Tybur. That was a whole other issue he didn’t have the brain power to address right now.
“Levi’s suspension is up in three days. Two days, now I supposed,” he amended as he recalled it was just after midnight. “He can accompany the team starting Monday per Shadis' orders.”
Mike didn’t appear reassured by the summary, eyeing Erwin with something he couldn’t put a name on. “You’re not going to have Levi show up at the local precinct, are you? That could backfire.”
“Could also prove if someone shows interest in Levi above others.”
“What? Using me as bait?” Levi inquired, a single brow lifting at the implication.
“Strictly to read facial expressions and body language,” Erwin promised. “I wouldn’t put you in a position that anyone could benefit from it.”
“That could work,” Mike agreed, hands finding their way into his pockets again as he took on his weary posture once more. “Nana and I will start questionings in the morning. If we get it finished before Monday, we’ll let you know. And, if anything, those we think may know something, we can reschedule a second interview with you and get your thoughts on it.”
Erwin nodded, finding the logic sound. “I can do that. Just let me know.”
Mike mimicked his nod, an agreement formed.
Footsteps padded across the pavement behind them, cutting off any further planning. Erwin caught Levi looking over his shoulder at whoever was approaching, and as he turned, he recognized Nanaba through the dark corner of the parking lot.
“Hey... I just wanted to check in with you guys.” She sidled up against Mike, looping an arm around his waist as he hooked his arm over her shoulders. He pulled her into his side and planted a kiss to her cheek. “You holding up alright, Erwin?”
He attempted a weak smile and dip of his chin. “I can’t help but feel responsible, if I’m honest. As I was telling Mike, Pixis was looking into a potential leak working for Tybur. I’m assuming he figured it out or got too close.”
Her eyes widened as she whipped her head around to each of them. “What?”
Mike kissed her temple again. “I’ll explain later, babe. We’ve hammered out a plan to proceed for now.”
“Fine, tell me in the car.” She didn’t seem willing to let the subject go, but thankfully did. While she may not have appeared as distraught as Mike over their friend’s death, Erwin knew she was torn up to some degree. The woman was just better at hiding it. “You’re going to his funeral, right?”
Erwin, for the first time since arriving on scene, hesitated.
Nanaba was hasty to fill in the pause, lifting her head from Mike’s shoulder to pin him with an imploring stare. It gutted him to know she was already aware of why he was tentative on answering, and it hurt even more that he knew she would understand if he chose not to attend. But the fact she was asking to begin with meant she wanted him there. And damn it all, he knew it was expected of him, not as a consultant and friend, but because it was the right thing to do.
“I’ll be going,” she voiced unnecessarily. “I think he’d appreciate it if you did too. At the very least, the whole team is going to our usual haunt to celebrate his life afterwards. You should be there to have a toast for the old man if anything.” She swept her insistent attention to Levi next. “You too. I know you didn’t know him that well, but Pixis always welcomed new friends. I think you would’ve gotten on good if given the chance.”
Erwin could feel Mike and Levi’s gaze on him, but he repressed the sigh eager to escape. “I’ll consider the funeral. But we’ll meet you at the usual place no matter what.”
A sad smile took shape briefly before melting. “That’s all I can ask.”
The sounds of the doors slamming shut with the coroner vehicle interrupted any follow-up queries, leaving Erwin grateful for the distraction. Mike and Nanaba unraveled from each other to look behind them, seeing Hange and Moblit loading into the car.
“That’s our cue,” Nanaba announced. She turned to Erwin and gave him a hug. “Please consider the funeral. I know how uncomfortable it is.”
“I will, Nana.”
She pulled away and looked at Levi who stared back patiently. “Can I hug you? Or is that weird?”
The corner of his lip twitched, but his arms unfolded as an answer. Relief flashed across her face as she leaned it for a chaste hug before pulling away. Erwin wanted to take in the moment, realizing just how important that simple gesture was, both for Levi’s improvement and the fact he was getting on so well with Erwin’s friends, but Mike interrupted by dragging him in for a hug instead.
The difference was stark. Nanaba brought warmth and gentle firmness that cocooned him with a sense of security. Ironic for a reaper, he suspected. Mike, on the other hand, was crushing with his wolven strength, yet brotherly in his aggression. When he pulled away, he didn’t bother to ask Levi for a sentimental hug, but nodded his head.
Smart. Levi would not have had a positive response to the abusive love bomb.
“Take care of Erwin and we’ll see you Monday,” Mike said as they took their leave.
Levi nodded, before meeting Erwin’s gaze. Without another word, they parted around the car, sliding into their respective seats. Neither spoke as they left the city and made their way through the sparse roads to the cabin, lost in thought or hesitant to breech the quiet. There was too much to consider with the messy web Pixis’ death created. Too much to unravel in the hour drive they were afforded.
***
The following morning, the question Erwin had been dreading was no longer off the table.
Levi, ever observant, had allowed Erwin his time to digest the scene and implications. While it wouldn’t be a considerate amount of space for someone grieving the loss of a friend, both Supras were desensitized enough with death to not allow their feelings to hinder progress. Had Erwin been anything other than a reaper, that likely wouldn’t have been the case as Mike was far from functioning at optimal levels. Acknowledging that fact, Levi apparently felt Erwin was in an operating mindset to ask what he’d obviously was harboring since the night prior.
“Are you avoiding the funeral for my sake?”
Well, that wasn’t exactly what Erwin had expected the grim to question him on, or better yet, not the exact reasoning for it.
“Why would you give me reason to avoid it?” he asked, glancing up from his past chat logs from Pixis, searching any indication of suspects.
Levi shrugged, but the sympathy weighing his frown was a clue to his unease in bringing up the topic. “Seems like the worst place possible to risk me being set off. Aren’t formal funerals for officers’ huge ceremonies? There’s bound to be a healthy attendance of vampires.”
Truthfully, Erwin hadn’t really considered that. He internally berated his oversight, though knew it wasn’t exactly at the forefront of thoughts to begin with. Some leniency was expected.
“No, that’s not why.”
“Then what is?”
Erwin set the phone down, propping his elbows on the counter and dipping his face into his palms. Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, he followed up by raking his hair back and straightening to address Levi.
“Do you recall what I mentioned about hearing souls that failed to pass on to the afterlife? Cemeteries are filled with fractured spirits, mostly clinging to their corpses rather than the setting they met their fate at, or wandering for someone who can hear them. It's... a lot.”
That was putting it mildly. The number of anguished cries and pleas pressed against his skull like a physical force, digging behind his eyes so harshly it had affected his vision once or twice. Even Nanaba, who lacked his level of sensibility, would get ill when attending funerals where the dead rested in the earth, buzzing like a swarm of flies in their ears.
“Not only that,” Erwin continued, “but you won’t find reapers in general present during ceremonies as such, due to our intimate relationship with death. Families and friends of the deceased tend to find it insulting and even been known to ban reapers from attending, even if they weren’t responsible for it.”
Levi’s brows knitted together. “What? How does that make sense? Even if it was a natural death?”
“Levi...” Erwin, despite the sore subject, he couldn’t help the fragile smile.
The grim waited for him to pick up where his name trailed into silence, giving Erwin time to thoughtfully consider what he wanted to say. But the man, with his head tilted and eyes flicking over his face, couldn’t have been cuter in that moment to Erwin. Naïve, perhaps. Or maybe Levi’s own experience was similar enough that he’d come to accept it. The shifter’s lifestyle of living alone and being the literal omen of death had to desensitize him to what it meant for the people on the other side of the spectrum.
“What?” Levi pressed when Erwin still hadn’t said anything.
Sighing, he rested his hands on the counter, the phone though inches from his fingers, forgotten. “You know how to keep me on my toes is all.”
“Meaning?”
“That I’m not used to having someone with your outlook around. Not...” he tried to think of how to phrase it, “Not unless it was my close friends. I’m not used to someone not fearing me first for what I am.”
Something pained flickered across Levi’s expression before it turned considering. “You think I would fear you?”
“I think you fear my departure more than my arrival. And that’s... refreshing.”
He was rewarded with a tiny upward curl of Levi’s lips. “You’re not nearly as scary as you give yourself credit for, Blondie. Not with those lavish suits.”
“Lavish?” Erwin quirked a brow. “Is that what you think?”
“Peacocking around the city in three-piece attire, with a fancy scythe. Surprised you don’t have any adornment to match the outfit you chose for the day. I guess paisley and plaid would be hard to plan ahead on for a gleaning, huh?”
Erwin scoffed, appreciating the man’s teasing to lighten the dreary mood. “You’re ridiculous. I have a blue ribbon on my scythe. That matches with anything.”
“Not when it’s powder blue.”
“Should I be flattered you took the time to truly admire my tool?”
“Is that a reaper innuendo?”
“No comment.”
Levi rolled his eyes, but Erwin decided to reward the man’s distraction with an answer to his original question.
“It doesn’t matter if it was a natural death or not. Surviving families usually find that reapers attending to pay their respects as an insult. One time, I believe Nana mentioned something about feeling like she had spit on a person’s grave in front of their sainted mother.” Levi snorted a laugh, already sharing a level of dark humor with Nanaba that Erwin wasn’t exactly excited for. He didn’t need her death-pun comedy to pass to Levi, or they’d really have a problem. “I’d imagine it wouldn’t be different if you showed up in your grim form”
“Well, most people believe I’m just a loup-garou so...,” he drawled the last word out, then shrugged. “But you’re not wrong. In Europe, where hellhound lore is more prominent, yeah. I’m sure showing up would scare the shit out of people... But with Pixis being a Police Chief, do you think they’d still have a problem with it? Especially, considering how often he worked with GSIS?”
“I think this’ll be one of the few times reapers would be expected to attend. Shadis’ll be there along with other Division Directors of the agency and outside precincts. What has me hesitant is the souls. But I’ll be going, regardless. I’m not going to put my own comfort above paying my respects for a friend.”
Levi nodded slowly, accepting the answer. “I don’t mind staying behind or attending and staying in the car during the ceremony. I’d feel better not taking chances.”
“Are you sure?” Erwin asked. “I feel confident enough with your progress you’ll be in control. The number of conflicting smells and people will probably dilute any real triggering vampire scents.”
“No. I really don’t want to risk it.”
Erwin couldn’t bring himself to argue. While he did believe Levi would be fine with participating, he also knew that a slip in control, no matter how minor, would indeed ruin everything they worked for. They would have no available alternatives or options. In a heartbeat, Levi would be taken away and custody stripped from Erwin.
It was best to not tempt their luck.
***
10 days later.
The sky felt heavy. With a skein of charcoal clouds crowding the horizon and flirting with the tallest buildings, it mimicked an oppressive pressure bearing down on the city’s occupancies. Rain threatened all morning though held back from releasing, as though nature itself understood the magnitude of what was occurring.
“There was presence of leukotriene B4, confirming inflammation in tissue prior to death,” Hange’s bleak summary echoed. “He was alive through the mutilations until the CTI in Zone 2. It was caused by a sawing action between the hyoid bone and the cricoid cartilage.”
Erwin stood beside Nanaba and Jean. To her right was Mike, Hange, Moblit, and a line of other agents. Eren was to the left of Jean, then Sasha and Connie, reminding him of Levi in the car and wondering how he was. He felt terrible the shifter was in that position but had to admit it was probably for the best. Between the loss of a friend, the unforgiving focus of so many high officials present, and grieving family... the unresolved disaster between Nile, Connie, and Levi was the farthest thing that needed to be brought up.
“Dot’s wife—widow, sorry... She, uh, had an alibi for the night of his murder,” Nanaba reported. “She picked up her sister from SeaTac airport and drove her to Bellevue. She didn’t return home until after the report was called into the local police department.”
Near the front of the crowd, respectfully situated from the family, Shadis and other leadership from agencies, military, and governing officials formed a palisade ahead of their peers.
Outside City Hall, a sea of blue uniforms stretched down the stairs and along the street, officers standing shoulder to shoulder in solemn formation. Their badges gleamed against dark dress blues, polished to perfection. Nearly everyone officer in attendance wore white gloves, black mourning bands across shield emblems, and crisp hats angled perfectly. A final tribute in the philology of order and honor. At the front, a polished oak casket rested atop a black-draped caisson, drawn by six black horses waiting to carry Chief Dot Pixis to his final post.
“There was an Officer Hitch Dreyse and Officer Mina Carolina that showed signs of distress and inconsistency during their interview,” Mike explained. “Neither had an alibi. Dreyse is a loup-garou, Carolina a vampire. Both out of probation for two years and have served exceptionally.”
“But despite their clean records, you still brought them up.”
Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “It seems too convenient if you’re looking at their races specifically, but something about their responses didn’t sit well with me and Nanaba. Especially Mina. A couple times, I got the impression she was lying through her teeth.”
Outside of Erwin’s internal thoughts, he heard someone reciting the achievements of Dot Pixis, summarizing his life and lauding all he’d done for the community.
“Chief Pixis had served 43 years in law enforcement, rising from a rookie patrolman to the highest office in the department after serving honorably for 6 years in the National Guard. For the last 12 years, he had led the city’s police force with a rare blend of discipline, compassion, and unwavering integrity. His unexpected death in the line of duty had left a city reeling and a department in mourning...”
It faded to white noise as his mind buzzed with everything the investigation had led to that week. More dead ends and flimsy leads. While Erwin still carried a healthy suspicion of Tybur being behind it all, there was something more about the volatile assault on Pixis that felt far too intimate for the coven leader to perform. As far as he could tell, Pixis had no prior interaction with the vampire mogul, so there lacked any substance to justify Tybur’s involvement or possible grudge. That didn’t mean he hadn’t orchestrated it. Not having physical involvement and being innocent were two entirely separate things.
But someone had a motive behind the cruelty inflicted. Whether a grudge or fear about being found out, Erwin wasn’t sure. But the profile of the person who held the man’s head backwards and sawed through his neck, eyes hanging out of his skull while he was still drawing breath, was a twisted individual who felt little remorse.
The funeral bell tolled.
Three slow, thunderous chimes echoed down Main Street, marking the Chief’s End of Watch. The silence that followed felt longer with the growing pause between seconds, filled only by the soft rustling of flags at half-mast and the distant sobbing of those mourning in the crowd.
Through the opened pathway, the honor guard marched in rhythm, escorting the casket down the steps to the carriage. Each footfall was a thump in the long heartbeat of a department grieving its leader. Draped in the American flag, the casket was a symbol now; of sacrifice, of leadership, of the price paid by those who protect and serve.
Bagpipes filled the stillness with the notes of "Amazing Grace" echoing off the buildings. The procession began, slow and deliberate, flanked by mounted officers and patrol cruisers bearing black ribbons across their grilles. Along the sidewalks, citizens stood quietly with some saluting and placing hands over hearts while others simply watched.
Erwin marched quietly with the team, lost in the crowd of participants down the street. Head held high and forward, he continued at a practiced pace, memorizing the heaviness that hung on all their shoulders.
He couldn’t help but feel like a spotlight was on him, that someone out there knew he was the one who voiced his concerns to Pixis at the theater, who accepted the man’s help and collaborated with him only for his friend to meet his death. If anyone was to blame, he knew he carried a hefty fraction of that weight.
Still. He kept his head high, a silly display of unity and respect. He only hoped his friend would not find insult in the afterlife for Erwin’s presence. No matter what happened, he would do everything he could to bring Pixis’ killer to light. It was the least he could do.
At the cemetery, the ritual continued with meticulousness. In a moment of self-flagellation, Erwin accepted the assault from the unrequited souls contaminating the hallowed grounds in droves. Their voices rose up and pressed in on his mind, chattering and stinging like wasps, but he endured it with stoicism. It was the least he deserved. If only he hadn’t involved Pixis.
But you’re close. You know Pixis figured it out, so you can narrow it down now. Don’t let his death be in vain.
The 21-gun salute cracked through the silence, each report like a punctuation mark in the Chief’s story. A folded flag was handed to his widow by the youngest officer in the department, chosen not for rank, but to represent the future Chief Pixis had fought so fiercely to protect.
The Police Chaplain stepped forward, voice trembling just slightly.
“Chief Pixis’s watch has ended. But his legacy is eternal. In every life he touched, in every officer he mentored, in every citizen he served—he lives on.”
The final call came over the radio.
“All units, stand by for the final call... Chief Dot Pixis, badge number 001... you are clear to rest. End of watch, December 18th, 2024. We have the watch now.”
Static followed. Then silence.
And beneath that silence, the weight of a city remembering its guardian.
***
The rain continued to hold off, saved for some stray sprinkles. Despite the gloomy forecast, the sun behind the thick clouds was enough to cast long shadows across the cemetery, grey gilding the rows of headstones in a melancholy light.
Levi leaned against the side of a black SUV, arms intertwined tightly across his chest. Despite not actively attending any of the processions, he donned a dark suit though the jacket hung open. The clean crease in his ironed shirt barely held its shape from sitting in the car for hours, but at least he wasn’t combatting summer heat.
Listening to Mike and Erwin speak beside him, his eyes tracked the slow trickle of mourners making their way to their cars. Almost immediately from closing comments, the crowd scattered, their footsteps muted on the trimmed grass. Many were in half embraces or held hands, others simply walked away alone, their grief carried stoically.
Mike adjusted the collar of his coat and glanced toward the emptying lot. “Full honors, bagpipes, the works,” he said quietly. “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”
Erwin stood beside him, posture statuesque despite the bulk of the day. “Nothing ever does. You bury a man in uniform, and there’s always something left unsaid.”
Levi didn’t answer. He shifted on his feet, gaze drifting toward the hill across the cemetery where most of the stragglers were trickling from. Nanaba was somewhere in the fragmented crowd, speaking with Director Shadis and whoever else that was necessary. Probably using her to establish GSIS’ presence on the case, promising their diligence in bringing order and answers for all the death the C.B. had brought to the Sound. He didn’t envy her position, and he wondered if Erwin ever missed it.
The reaper was practically built for such bureaucratic interactions. Even amongst the sea of suits and dresses, his regal figure stood out as someone to take note of, his presence taking up space wherever he turned. From the window of the car, Levi had watched many people approach him to shake his hand and speak with him. About what, the shifter had no idea, but he was thankful he was segregated from it all.
“You two planning on coming to the bar?" Mike asked. "Pretty sure it’s just the team and a few other people from GSIS coming. Hange and Moblit are doing their own thing tonight, I guess.”
Erwin turned to look at Levi, an unspoken message passing between them before he answered. “Yeah, we’ll be there. Need to fill up petrol first, so might arrive after you.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. Knowing Shadis and his need to establish his competence, he may hold my wife hostage for another 30 minutes. Might need you to help on a rescue mission.”
“Where’s Jean and Eren?”
“Went back home to change. Didn’t want to show up in suits. Probably for the best. They said they’re taking an Uber to the bar, so you can guess how shitfaced they’ll probably be.”
Levi scoffed, “That sounds like a disaster.”
Mike chuckled, tilting his head in a partial shrug. “Yeah. It’s about as bad as it sounds.”
Levi hummed, then turned his attention to Erwin again, shouldering into his side. “How’s your head?”
The reaper deflated as he sighed, hand rubbing at his temple now that someone had acknowledged the pain, he had been gritting his teeth through. “Surprisingly, the voices are quiet right now. It was torturous during the burial.”
“Is that why it looked like you were trying to crush your molars to dust, mate?” Mike teased, already knowing how reapers suffered from hallowed grounds.
“Hence why we’re stopping off at a petrol station. Need something to take the edge off.”
“Could take a shot of whiskey with me.”
“I’m driving. No hard liquor for me.”
“Shoulda got an Uber like the boys.”
“And pay a fortune to go all the way to the cabin? No thanks.”
“It’s not like you don’t have the money. Plus, you two could’ve stayed the night at our place. You know the doors are always open for you. Still can, honestly. We have the spare room and the couch. Or both of you could take the spare room. Whichever works. I don't judge.”
Levi tried not to scowl at how it felt Mike was fishing for something. The idea of staying at their place, regardless of liking the wolven and Nanaba, wasn’t exactly appealing. Not with potential nightmares or waking in an unknown location were fuel to set him off in an episode. Thankfully, Erwin wasn’t willing to risk it either.
“And listen to you and Nana have drunk sex? I’ll spare Levi the extra trauma. I fear its too late for me.”
“You’re hilarious,” Mike shook his head, shoving Erwin playfully. “I bet it sounds hot.”
“We’re not having this conversation.”
A woman’s voice cracked in the distance, thin and almost pleading. It wasn’t loud, but with Levi and Mike’s sharpened hearing, it was enough to draw their attention. Levi's gaze shifted toward the far edge of the cemetery where the land inclined to a small grassy knoll. A cluster of people loitered further up the hill, but between two rows of headstones was where the disturbance was coming from.
It only took the barest glance to recognize the Lt. Governor, looming too close to the widow who clasped the folded flag and clutch to her chest like it was armor. Her black dress and coat wavered in the breeze, almost giving her the appearance that she was trembling in the governor’s presence.
Dorian Romero was immaculately dressed in his tailored suit and his face set like stone as he leaned in to speak with her. To most onlookers, it may appear like he was offering sympathy at first glance, but the look in the widow’s eyes was one Levi recognized instantly. She wasn’t grieving or being receptive to the conversation. She felt cornered.
“That’s Anka,” Erwin announced, voice low and restricted to the three of them.
Mike squinted. “Why the hell is he talking to her now?”
Levi was already pushing off the SUV, sensing the wrongness from the situation. There wasn’t any entourage with the governor, nor family with Pixis’ widow, Anka. They were alone when most of the funeral guests were long gone.
“Is anyone else with her?” Mike asked, scanning the rows and hill for people in proximity. “Friends? Family?”
“Not close enough,” Erwin summed, eyes narrowing.
“Why would he want to get her alone?” Levi inquired flatly, feeling the urge to shift forms but knowing it was not realistic. The Dorian asshole knew Tybur--rather intimately based on the local news--which had Levi instantly disliking him. The fact he was cornering an acquaintance's widow only put the governor further up his shit-list.
No one answered right away, but after a beat, they seemed to have the same thought process at once. The three started moving with purpose, skirting the edge of the grounds to stay out of the governor’s periphery.
Levi bristled with restless energy and the beginnings of adrenaline. The fact the man they were approach could have answers on Tybur's location, something Levi desperately wanted at all costs, was ridiculously tempting. But he knew hosting any form of interrogation at the cemetery was never going to happen. Not with that many officials swarming the grounds still.
“Try to stay upwind, Levi,” Erwin warned, setting a hand on the small of his back to punctuate his meaning. “Anka’s a vampire, and we don’t know how you’ll react with a distressed one.”
The caution hit like a lightning bolt, stuttering Levi’s initial urge to guard and attack into something far more tentative and uncertain. Erwin may not have known that such a cocktail was a trigger for him, but Levi was familiar enough with it. The few times he was injured or had terrified a new hemovore handler had set his instincts into a frenzy when still with Tybur. Injured prey, his brain supplied, and his conditioning took over all cognitive reasoning.
Slowing up, he kept his distance a solid ten feet behind Erwin and Mike, having no intention of getting any closer than to hear what would happen.
Anka, with her shoulder length caramel hair, shook her head stiffly at whatever Dorian said, shrinking inward on herself. Dorian took that as room to lean in as he spoke low, but even that close, Levi struggled to pick up what was being said.
The touch to her arm made her flinch and just as Erwin and Mike were within distance of announcing themselves, Dorian straightened and began walking away. Erwin appeared as if he was going to call the man back regardless, but Levi caught sight of the governor’s entourage waiting for him, and he knew their window was shut. Anything they did now would cause a scene they couldn’t afford.
Anka stood rooted in place, shaking as she trailed the governor’s back until he disappeared down the slope. She looked like she was about to collapse to her knees until she caught sight of Erwin and Mike, where a flash of recognition negated the lingering fear. Wiping at her tearstained face, she tried to plaster on a reassuring smile as Mike closed the distance.
“Hi Anka,” Mike gently started, softening the prior edge that had accompanied his voice. “You alright?”
“Hey,” she replied, voice trembling on the single syllable. Her eyes were red but focused as they glanced fleetingly to Erwin and then Levi from where he loitered further away. “I’m—I will be.”
It sounded like a line she’d repeated far too much in the day. Her hands curled tightly around the flag as she held it close.
Levi took the pause to inventory everything he could about her. The hint of iron that clung just beneath a sweet, candied perfume. She appeared in her 30’s by human standards, though even for Supra's, he could feel the age within her. Nothing like Tybur’s age but old enough that it was understandable that she would marry and older human that matched the wear of decades which created maturity.
“Thank you for coming. Dot would’ve appreciated it a lot,” she sniffled, eyes turning wet once more.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” Mike murmured. “If you need anything, you know you can call on me and Nana. We’re more than happy to help. You and Dot were always welcoming of us and the team.”
“Thank you.” She wiped at her face with the tissue, lifting her eyes to Erwin and Levi. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
“Ma’am,” Erwin stepped forward to offer his hand. “I’m Erwin Smith and this is Levi,” when he gestured toward the shifter, Levi gave a curt nod. “We’re friends of Dot and want to extend our condolences. He was a good man. I’ve known him almost his entire time with the force.”
Mike interjected to explain further, “Erwin was our team supervisor before he stepped down and Nanaba took over.”
“Oh,” she blinked, and the tight smile returned. “I think Dot had mentioned you actually. He said you were a consultant working on the recent cases, I believe.”
The curled words ended in a tentative question that Erwin answered. “Yes. We’ve been working together a lot lately. It was always a pleasure putting theories together with him. He will be missed.”
She nodded, tears returning and spilling over again. “I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped. “You’d think I’d be out of tears by now, but I just can’t stop.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mike cajoled. “We understand completely.”
“I do have a confession,” Erwin shifted, trying to get the topic back on track. “We saw that the governor was speaking with you, and it appeared you were upset. We wanted to make sure you’re ok.”
Her jaw tightened and her gaze dropped. When she didn’t answer, Levi took a direct approach, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Was he threatening you?”
Erwin shot him a look, but didn’t reprimand him.
Anka blinked, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “He said... things would be easier if I kept quiet. That my husband’s pension would shift in the wrong direction if I didn’t just accept he was gone and...”
The fuck was Dorian threatening her for? Levi knew he rubbed elbows with Tybur, but what the fuck would he gain for threatening Pixis’ pension?
“And what?” he practically demanded.
“Look, I-I don’t want to get into any trouble... Please... I could just be misremembering details.”
“Details about what?” Mike asked, tone coaxing and soft compared to Levi’s.
Anka glanced at each one in turn, weighing something that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to say aloud.
“Ma’am,” Erwin pressed on, “if he’s threatening you because he fears you may know something, it’s not doing anyone favors to keep it to yourself.”
“But—I could be mis-misremembering.”
“Let us determine that. Please. We won’t reveal anything you say now, if you tell us.”
She exhaled shakily, sniffling her runny nose as she dabbed at her eyes, trying to avoid smearing her makeup. “My husband said he was looking for someone. He thought there was a-a leak in the office to the Cascade Butcher killer.”
“Did he tell you who he suspected?” Erwin asked carefully, though his tone was guarded. “Names? Ranks? Did he leave any notes behind?”
She looked uncertain, then shook her head. “I don’t remember anyone in particular. He was frustrated that nothing was coming up, though. But why would the governor want me to keep that to myself? Was he right? Is there someone at the precinct that—that,” she hiccupped again as her voice shook. A hand came to cup her mouth as a sob escaped. “Did someone he work with—kill him?”
“Please take a breath,” Mike reached out and rubbed her back. “We’re investigating every angle and will do everything we can to bring you closure.”
“We don’t know what Romero was implying,” Erwin continued. "But whatever it is, we’ll find out. If he bothers you again, you should report it.”
“But he could take the pension—”
“No. He can’t. I’ll make a discreet comment to our Division Director and ensure if it comes up again, he’ll ensure nothing happens.”
Anka nodded, straightening her posture. “Thank you. All of you. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” Mike smiled. “Dot always treated us like family. That extends to you too.”
Levi shifted on his feet, noticing a woman who bore a close resemblance to the widow coming down the hill. He suspected it was Anka’s sister, and cleared his throat. Erwin glanced at him, then followed his gaze to the family members coming to meet them.
“Anka. It was a pleasure to meet you. Please take care.”
“You too. Thank you again.”
Erwin turned to Mike next before joining Levi. “We’ll meet you and Nana there. We should head out.”
“Yeah, see you guys in a bit.”
***
There was a forceful clack of balls knocking together on the pool table near the booth. Levi suppressed the automatic flinch, though he proudly didn’t give into the urge to glance behind him to search for a threat.
The lively pub was a healthy mix of regulars, and a particularly rowdy group of friends huddled beneath the television, watching the game. Any obnoxious shouts were lost in the din of conversations, glasses clinking together, and the spray from the tap running somewhere out of sight. It was more simulation than Levi was used to, but with their position against the wall, he at least had a large view of the front half of the establishment.
The corner half-circle booth had a four-top table pushed against the end, still wobbly even after Mike’s effort to cram a napkin under the foot of it. A few chairs were apprehended from other areas of the bar to make room for the larger party, where Nile and Marie were thankfully situated, far from Levi’s spot in the depths of the booth with Nanaba on one side and Erwin on the other. Part of him suspected it was a strategic placement on both their ends. Keep the unstable hellhound trapped by the table between two reapers, and not visually antagonize Nile.
Smart. If a little annoying that they didn’t think of mentioning it to Levi and instead ushered him into place. Common courtesy and all would’ve been nice, but it was whatever he supposed.
Eren and Jean were deep in conversation with beers in their hands, hovering over the players at the pool table while they waited for the next round. Sasha was with them, hands occupied with a basket of hot wings as she listened to the latest spur of insults between them. Naturally, Connie arrived shortly after and hadn’t made his way to the table yet, properly distracted by the trio as soon as he entered.
For the second time that evening, Levi shifted in his seat, antsy as he considered when and how to make his apology to the forensic tech for his behavior—well, assault was the accurate term. It didn’t help his lack of confidence feeling Nile’s eyes branding into the side of his head. Stoutly, however, Levi refused to acknowledge him aside from the initial eye contact when the couple arrived. The man’s wife, on the other hand, proved to be harder to ignore.
Marie carried herself well throughout the table’s conversations and toasts made in Pixis’ honor, narrating stories of how they met when the team was younger and still consisted of Erwin. At random moments, Nile would chime in as a duet to spin a new tale, added on by Nanaba’s good nature and Mike’s humor.
It was fine for a while. Despite not having anything to contribute to the conversation, and feeling like an outsider, Levi managed to conjure some enjoyment in listening to the group reminiscing about old cases. He wrinkled his nose when he was told about a younger Pixis riding through a divorce practically every time a promotion went his way, getting married shortly after like it was going out of style. Erwin expanded on some stories of his own when he and Pixis were paired up with a case and how the former-Chief never met opposition with anger, but an aloof nonchalance that disarmed any obstruction.
It was apparent that the respect he had for the human was both as a friend and mentor, never seeing the late life cycle as anything but natural progression. He taught Pixis how to navigate some of the toughest cases which led to the man’s own success when paired with his carefree charisma. Even in the end, Erwin held a fondness for his human charge.
“But I never taught him to be a functioning alcoholic,” Erwin defended to Levi much to Nanaba’s delight.
Again. It wasn’t a bad evening. Levi wasn’t losing his shit—aside from constantly trying to carve a way to speak with Connie—and it admittedly was nice to have a drink with Erwin’s friends. People who Levi could see were becoming his too by extension.
The problem he did have was the tingling of his olfactory senses, picking up the zesty mandarin and starry jasmine scent to his right. He barely recognized it from the fragrance that had loitered on Erwin’s suit the last time they were in GSIS, and now—sitting in close quarters to the team—he could pinpoint it to Marie.
If he was honest, Levi would admit he didn’t know how he felt to learn that. The strength of her perfume was enough to notice in the car ride to the cabin, but not strong to the point of lasting through a dry cleaning. That meant she had touched Erwin enough for the aroma to transfer, and Levi didn’t know what to call the discomfort finding home in his chest.
Troubled for one.
Also, a tad insecure when he recollected Erwin and Marie were engaged—and not all that long ago either. Even if she was happily married, Levi wasn’t exactly the golden ticket to brag about for the next chapter of Erwin’s life. Thanks, Hange, for that candied, purple-suited, child murderer movie recommendation.
He was probably being ridiculous. Perhaps, there was something else to give name to the strange cocktail he was feeling. Something he wasn’t willing to look too closely at right now. So, he tried to ignore it, and her pretty voice.
Not for the first time, he allowed his attention to drift across the bar to where Eren was heckling Jean who lined up for a pocket at the table. They were obviously the livelier half of their group, likely having far less history with Pixis and taking advantage of enjoying themselves instead. Levi considered excusing himself to join them, under the excuse of watching, only to strike up a conversation with Connie to finally make amends.
He was sure he didn’t need Erwin fretting around him to dell out a heartfelt ‘Sorry I almost killed you’ as his recent hemovore interactions were civil enough. Like Hange, their familiarity was able to negate any distrustful and wary growls that rose up around strangers, and dare he say, they were borderline normal with each other. Maybe not for friendly touches between him and Hange, but he highly doubt Connie was the type for forgiveness hugs. If Levi was fortunate enough to earn forgiveness. He was probably getting ahead of himself a bit there.
Before he could make a request to be let out, Nile was standing from the end table.
“I’m getting another drink. You guys good for another round?”
“Sure, thanks,” Mike lifted his near empty pint in cheers as Nanaba nodded.
“I’m still working on mine,” Erwin politely declined.
Nile turned to Marie. “Want another soda?”
“Please.”
Nile leaned over her, one hand bracing on the wobbly table, the other on the back of his chair and kissed her. It wasn’t exactly simple, but Levi was grateful he wasn’t trying to carry on a snog-fest with her in front of the group. When he pulled away with a cocky grin, Levi had to fix his eyes in place to not roll at the display.
Nanaba, ever immune in the most uncomfortable situations, casually leaned on the table to address Marie.
“Did you two get a ride here from your house?”
“No. I decided I’d rather be the DD for the night,” she chortled. “Figured Nile needed to let a loose after everything he’s been through lately, and the kids are with a babysitter.”
Mike pulled Nanaba into a side hug and kissed her temple. “The rule for me tonight was strictly no shots.”
Nanaba arched her brow. “Because you can’t handle hard liquor, babe.” Then, leaning out of his hold to stage whisper to Levi, “Three measly shots are all it takes to knock him on his ass.”
Levi snorted as the corner of his lip teased upwards. “That’s pitiful.”
Right on que, Mike’s flat stare landed on Levi, “Says the one who’s pint size. You probably can’t handle a seltzer.”
Erwin leveled Mike with a patronizing scowl, “Are you buzzed already, mate? Levi’s had three beers and there’s no indication he’s feeling affected.”
Mike chuffed, but gave up his line of defensiveness when Erwin had a point. Marie, however, did have something to say.
“That’s impressive, Levi. I mean, you’re naturally a reserved person, but if I didn’t see it myself, I’d think you were the DD for Erwin.” The thin smile that crept into place felt plastered on, a far cry from what she shared with everyone else at the table. “Have you always had a high alcohol tolerance?”
The question was odd. It felt pointed like a porcupine quill, but he couldn’t determine why he got the impression it was unfriendly. He schooled his features to the same languid display, recognizing how he would much rather not answer her than pretend at the charade of small talk.
“I wouldn’t know. Never was much a drinker to tell if it ever changed.”
“Oh, you’re one of the lucky ones then. Having a naturally high tolerance would make a lot of people jealous.”
Levi shifted on the cracked vinyl booth uncomfortably, hoping someone would jump in and change the subject. It wasn’t a discussion he welcomed, talking about alcohol intake and luck. Not when the last time he was in a bar ended very, very poorly for him.
When he didn’t respond and a pregnant pause began to turn stale over the table, Nanaba nudged him in the side.
“Want to try a fried pickle?”
It was the perfect question to rescue him from conversing with Marie any further, so he willingly accepted the battered spear. The palm that crept to his thigh from under the table wasn’t a bad distraction either, though he made sure not to draw attention to it, meeting Erwin’s gaze fleetingly as Nile returned with a couple drinks.
“Here’s the first round,” he announced, setting glasses down while managing to not slosh any. Given Nile was on beer five, that was a blessing. “Gotta get the others.”
Levi decided it was his cue to get up and talk to Connie while Nile was distracted.
“I’ll be right back,” he said under his breath to Erwin, who looked momentarily puzzled but nodded.
“Can you excuse us, Marie?”
She flashed a sugary smile, moving out of the way so Erwin could slide out while Levi followed. Once he extracted himself, Erwin stole a rather public touch, sliding his hand from Levi’s shoulder to his elbow languidly. He felt the table’s eyes like knives, particularly Marie’s in his peripheral, watching their interaction. No words were exchanged, and yet the message was clear: I’ll be close by if you need me.
Then, as if the reaper’s goal was to see how bright he could make Levi flush, he winked at him before slipping into the booth again. Levi wanted to be annoyed by the not-so-subtle display, recalling how Erwin was concerned about how their adapted relationship would be taken in public. But he couldn’t deny it was just the confidence boost he needed to chart his route toward the pool table. If Erwin trusted him to do it alone, why was he so worried?
The closer he got to the back of the bar, the fainter the buzz of conversations became. Replaced with some 80’s rock, he heard the crips laugh from Eren cut through the din as Sasha tossed a cleaned chicken bone at Connie. The shared camaraderie was a wholesome sight after the dredges of the funeral service, causing a hefty pressure of regret that Levi was about to ruin it.
He could faintly pick up the scent of vampire amongst the cacophony of other aromas around; from the spilt beer, amber cologne, and melting pot of species. Any other vampires in the vicinity blended with the crowd and did nothing to raise his hackles. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean Levi was willing to chance a second poor encounter with Connie, so he made sure to keep some portion of the pool table between them.
Eren noticed him first, grinning as he tilted his chin up in a wordless greeting. The laughter teetered off, proving that the wolven wasn’t quite as carefree with Levi’s approach as he played off. Instead of being offended by it, Levi found he was grateful. They trusted him enough to let him do what he needed to, but were ready to step in if necessary. He had to ignore the unfriendly stab to his pride that came from needing a sort of babysitter just to have a conversation, yet that was the reality of his situation. He was trying to recover from the conditioning and this was proof.
There were only three colorful billiard balls left on the green felt, showing that Jean and Eren were pulling ahead of the other two. Sasha gave him a cheery wave while Jean leaned on his cue stick with both hands, waiting for his turn. Levi gave them a polite nod, allowing his attention to land on Connie who watched him while using the chalk. It was difficult to read what the vampire was thinking, but there wasn’t any outward unease on display. Partial cageyness and inquisitiveness perhaps?
Keeping the safest distance that still allowed for a semi-private conversation, Levi reminded himself to keep his posture open.
“You got a minute?” he asked quietly, trying his damndest to not portray outward signs of a hunter.
Connie didn’t answer right away, casting a glance towards his companions. Levi simply waited with none of the patience he felt.
“Look,” Connie started, unease coloring his voice, “whatever you’ve got to say, I’d feel better if you said it here.”
Levi choked down the grimace before it could form, nodding his head to confirm he understood. He had no argument for his case otherwise, so if Levi was forced to do this in front of an audience, then he was going to swallow his pride and do it. Connie was in full control of how the following discussion was perceived.
“I wasn’t myself at the theater.”
Connie gave him a firm, guarded look. “You sure about that?”
“No.” The honesty felt like an anvil dropping. “My head’s a mess, no denying that, but I do remember enough of the encounter to know I attacked you like you were the enemy. That’s on me.”
Connie folded his arms over his chest, hugging the cue in the crook of his elbow instead of leaning it on the table. As if the stick would act as a weapon in defense if Levi was triggered again.
"You could’ve killed me. You almost did.”
Levi failed to suppress the wince, feeling embarrassingly accosted by the younger vampire. That didn’t stop him from gathering his nerves and continuing.
“I know. I’m fully aware of what I almost did.” A beat. “I wish I had something better to offer you, but my conditioning—that reflex—it’s something I’ve been trying to overcome, even though it’s far from gone. But I’m working on it.”
He wanted to plead his case. Tell them he never asked to have his control scrambled so much between cogitative reasoning and survival instincts that it slipped his grasp at times. He never asked to be captured and tortured. But this wasn't about him right now, and he refused to portray any sort of victim mentality, especially when he was the aggressor.
The tension stretched, the corner of the bar they were at felt cut off from the rest of the world. Levi shifted his gaze to the side for the barest second, catching the eyes of the agents at the table behind him.
Fuck. It wasn't going well, was it?
“I didn’t come here for forgiveness, Connie," he finally said, unable to deal with the judgmental staring. "Just... to say I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I want to make it right by you, if you’ll allow it.”
Another long pause thickened between them, causing Levi to struggle to not shuffle in place. He wondered if this was the time to make his retreat. He said what he had to, apologized and let Connie know the rest was up to him to decide how they proceeded. There was nothing else to do. Yet, just when Levi nodded again and turned to leave, Connie tossed a billiard ball lightly toward him.
Catching it, he sent a dumbfounded look at the vampire who shrugged.
“Next round, we can team up. You can make it up to me by beating those two.”
Jean scoffed as Eren spouted off some half-arrogant insult at the vampire. It never made it to Levi’s focus as he looked at the red striped ball in his hand.
It felt... incomplete. Not quite the path toward redemption he knew was the end goal in an ideal world, but not a door being slammed in his face either. For now, that was the most he’d get from Connie, and maybe that was the most he deserved.
“Here,” Sasha nudged his arm, handing him her cue stick with an encouraging grin. “Take my place the rest of this game to warm up. Then next round, wipe the floor with Yeager and Kirstien.”
Levi accepted the cue and stepped closer to the table as Jean lined up to take his shot. He was careful where he placed himself in proximity to Connie, and when it was his turn, focused his attention on sinking a ball with efficiency.
It gave him the chance to prove in every motion he made that he was in control again.
***
“Will you stop that,” Marie berated Nile, flustered by his glowering. “Look. They’re playing a game and no one’s getting hurt.”
“Yeah? And he was fine at the theater too, before he snapped.”
Erwin could feel his frustration vibrating off himself, despite his efforts to ignore his friend. “Again, it was a personalized trigger to get to Levi. I don’t see anything here that was at the theater, do you?”
“Can’t keep blaming it on the body, Erwin,” Nile gritted out, drumming his fingers across the table. “Frankly, I think you’re being too laissez faire about this whole thing. If he flips his lid and turns feral, you’re a bit far away to do anything about it, aren’t you?”
“I’m confident he’s able to play of a game of pool without attacking anyone. A little grace on your end would be appreciated.”
“Grace?” Nile guffawed.
“It’s bigoted to hold one incident against Levi’s character when he’s been nothing but polite to you in return.”
“Are you serious?” Nile demanded, voice rising despite being taken aback by Erwin’s statement. “He’s attacked Jean too; in case you forgot. How many people will it take before you open your eyes?”
“Stop,” Marie ordered, nudging Nile to usher him out of his seat. His outburst was beginning to draw attention from the nearby patrons. “Step out with me for a smoke, hun.”
“I’m not leaving that wolven unsupervised. Someone on the team needs to take responsibility.”
Marie rolled her eyes, tugging at his arm. “It’ll only be a quick break outside for some fresh air. I’m sure the team will keep an eye on them.”
At the pool table, Levi sunk two striped balls into a pocket back-to-back, earning a cheer from Connie and Sasha who proceeded to stick their tongues out at Jean and Eren. It appeared that whatever tension had clouded their side of the bar had dissipated, which admittedly caused a sting of petty envy in Erwin. Nanaba and Mike made a comment about the younger team members not holding a grudge, but Nile paid it no attention.
Silly jealousy aside, Erwin was relieved that Levi was enjoying himself and not having to sit under the scrutiny from Nile. This was the first time he’d be able to interact positively with people outside of the cabin or GSIS or their short trips of exploring. A new side of Levi that brought a wholesomeness to the grim's life that he was sorely missing.
It helped that it appeared amends were being made between him and Connie. The pride he felt for Levi made him want to abandon the moody booth and join the pool table instead, even if he was restricted to being a spectator. Maybe walk up behind Levi, settle his hands on his hips and kiss the back of his neck. The urge to simply touch and press against Levi had Erwin ache with something akin to hunger pains.
Since the excursion in the snow, they hadn’t discussed their developing relationship, nor had they repeated the kiss. As the reality of Pixis’ fate was processed, returning to GSIS for the week, and leading to the funeral, Erwin unashamedly was itching to bring the shifter into his orbit again and kiss him senselessly.
Just remembering it had his insides turning to magma. When Levi gifted the clover made from the ripped page of a book (the same in his wallet at that very moment), he was moved by the sentiment. Then rereading the annotation kicked his heartrate into overdrive as he considered Levi returning the growing feelings he had.
To say he was surprised was obvious. Levi wasn't the most outgoing with his emotions, keeping his thoughts close to his chest. A severe trauma response or possibly his body stuck in some survival mode, keeping the stronger feelings at bay. Levi may have a natural stoicism to him, but Erwin knew his time under Tybur left deep scars that may forever last in the following centuries. But after the gift, all those tremulous thoughts, the attraction, adoration, and fondness, amplified when coalescing with Levi’s subtle admission. There was no time to clarify Erwin's conclusion, to ask Levi if he was possibly reading into the annotation with too much hope, or act on his surprise.
There was only the moment—and the moment after.
A pivotal point that was creeping more and more into the forefront of his mind the longer he went without repeating it.
He imagined it was similar to feeling withdrawal to a growing obsession. Not quite enough to make him ill without it, but he felt its absence. Felt cold space beside him when Levi woke first in the mornings, and the dry humor and jabs at Erwin’s thoughtless mistakes were a treasure on their own yet missing in the past week. He was certain teasing Erwin was Levi’s favorite pastime, though he refrained while Erwin went through his own grieving process.
Maybe the alcohol was just making him a little more selfish than normal. Impulsive too, seeing as he wanted to do all this regardless of who was there to watch. They were already on thin ice where Nile was concerned; there was no need to stir the pot by calling into question their unbalanced relationship. That would only succeed in discrediting Erwin’s judgement, which they could not afford.
“Fine. Watch them play a game and mope.” Exasperated, Marie swiveled her attention to Erwin next. “Mind joining me outside? Some company would be appreciated.”
Erwin blinked, eyes darting from the pool table where Levi arched a brow at Connie trying to line up for a tricky shot.
“We can keep an eye on the situation, though I doubt anything will happen,” Nanaba offered with a shrug, leaving it to Erwin’s decision.
Even though he stopped drinking after the last beer, there was a faint haze hovering about his mind. Admitting that fresh air would help sober the last of it off, he gave a nod, promising himself it would be quick. Just long enough to get him to a safe driving condition while keeping Marie company for a moment.
Getting up so they could move, Nile grumbled something under his breath that had Mike shake his head. Erwin was grateful for not having sharpened hearing to pick it up, knowing it was nothing he wanted to listen to.
Unable to help himself, Erwin diverted from following Marie out, letting her know he’d meet her outside after informing Levi know where he’d be. A tightness crinkled around her eyes, but her smile seemed easy as she agreed and headed toward the side door.
Weaving through the tall tables and meandering patrons, he reached the younger half of the team right as Levi leaned across the table edge to take the shot. Being the smallest of the group, he was forced to bend over and stand on his toes to line the cue how he wanted. The angle was awkward with the billiard balls clustered in the stretch in the middle, making it difficult for even the taller players to reach comfortably.
Erwin found it ludicrously cute.
His fingers twitched at his sides, eager to clutch at Levi from behind once more, but he shoved those lecherous thoughts away after a stealing an indulgent stare over the curve of Levi’s backside, committing the scene to memory. During his deliberate survey, he missed the shot; only brought back to awareness upon Connie and Sasha chanting when Jean and Eren were forced to drink.
“These are stupid rules,” Jean complained. “Whose idea was it to drink after every opposing team’s score?”
“Yours.” Eren glared at him, setting his now empty glass down. There was a slight drawl to his single word, hinting to the increasing intoxication.
“No—pretty sure you were tryna get Sasha and Connie hungover.”
“As if,” Connie scoffed. “Sasha eats enough carbs to feed an army—meaning I’m sure her liver is fortified against alcohol. And I don’t drink vodka. It’s disgusting.”
Upon considering Connie was in fact drinking and not simply playing a game, Erwin’s veins turned to ice.
“Er, and what is it that you’re drinking, if you don’t mind my asking,” Erwin interjected, startling the vampire who hadn’t realized he was standing behind them.
“Relax, Blondie” Levi allayed, propping the cue stick that was only a few inches shy of matching height beside him. “Connie’s been sipping on some fruity drink. I can’t smell anything but the syrup they put into it.”
“Hey, it’s—” Connie cut himself off, pouting. “It’s not fruity. It’s cultured.” Looking at Erwin, he lifted the drink in question. “A Sangria. White, not red. It’s got some berries in it for décor, but that doesn’t make it fruity.”
“Still fruity.”
“You’re lucky you’re on my team and we’re winning.”
Sasha snickered beside him, “You’re only winning because of Levi. It’s you who’s lucky.”
“I know you’re not starting mutiny on me in front of an audience, Sash.”
A sly smirk curled the edges of Levi’s lips as Jean broodily reset the table for another round, ignoring Sasha’s theatrical pirate impression.
“Alright,” Erwin eyed the drink a second longer, telling himself to trust Levi’s judgement on where he stood. If he was unbothered by the blood hidden in the beverage, Erwin would take his word for it.
Unable to resist showing some form of support, his hand found home on the small of Levi’s back as he leaned in to whisper to him. “I’m going to be outside for a bit. If you need anything, come get me. Mike and Nana will be at the table too.”
He thought he saw Levi’s skin prickle behind his ear from his breath, but the shifter turned his head to face him before he could be certain, nose mere inches apart. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I’ll find you if I need to.”
Erwin offered what he hoped was a winsome smile, pleased that Levi was flourishing in a social setting. His eyes darted toward his lips, but he managed enough willpower to straighten and recover platonic and unassuming distance.
Directing his attention to the rest of the team, he made a departing tip toward Eren to adjust his elbow with the diagonal shots, followed with a disclaimer of evening the skills out on both teams after Connie frowned again, clearly feeling his team’s victory was on the line. Erwin suspected that Levi’s skill wasn’t simply beginner’s luck and Connie would find that out soon enough.
As he wove through the crowd a second time, Erwin just managed to hear Connie tell Levi not to let him give the opposing team advice, in which Levi’s dry response was a flat, “Why? It won’t help Yeager or Kirstein. They need a fucking genie for that.”
Eren’s belligerent shock was one he’d like to have stayed to witness, but he did want some fresh air. Sitting at the table with Nile’s patronizing attitude left a bad taste in his mouth, suffocating any ease out of the evening that he managed while reminiscing.
Opening the side entrance to the bar, the murmur of voices spilled out from the door, blending with the low thrum of music. Night had swept across the sky, feeling warmer than his abode at the foot of the mountains. The scent of ozone layer was thick with the rain-damp pavement and distant city lights reflected from puddles on the street, and the biting winter chill was like a slap in the face, already doing well in clearing the haze from his head.
At the mouth of the alley, Marie’s silhouette curved against the masonry with the glow of the neon sign at the front casting a highlight across half her soft features. She always had a way of effortless grace in whatever setting she placed herself. The firefly flicker of the cigarette illuminated the curve of her lips as she inhaled deeply, eyes holding Erwin’s as he planted his feet beside her. Smoke coiled and drifted toward the rooftops, dancing across the generous space between them. Her gaze flickered toward the side entrance then to Erwin again, assessing and calculating.
“I was beginning to think you changed your mind.”
He offered a simple, one shoulder shrug. “You asked for some company, I told you I’d come out. Fresh air sounded like a good idea.”
The lull hung between them, heavier with a sense of anticipation. It was enough to put Erwin on edge as he tried to interpret what was on her mind. He suspected Nile’s attitude likely had some responsibility for the strange discomfort hovering over them, but there was equal consideration that it was something else.
“You’re getting attached to him.”
Ah. There it was.
Erwin felt his heart quicken its pace, though he ignored it, not sure if it was from guilt from the part of him that still cared for his former-fiancé or perhaps in defense.
When he didn’t answer, Marie flicked ash to the ground followed by a last drag before the butt of the cigarette followed. Her heel grounded it against the damp concrete. It was a casual motion, yet it held the underlining edge that felt deliberate. Akin to frustration.
Twisting to face him fully, shoulder leaning against the wall with her hip canted, Marie’s gaze continued to drill into his. “You look happy.”
Her voice was quiet, almost teasing. It was the absence of sincerity that prevented him from finding relief that usually accompanied the chance for friendly support. While what he and Levi shared was ethically questionable in more ways than one, he knew it was a lot to ask for his friends to understand. For some reason, probably because of history or lingering feelings, having her sympathize with their situation felt taboo. Like he was crossing a line and knew she wouldn’t grasp what he was feeling no matter what he said to defend their argument.
“It’s complicated,” he replied simply.
A thin smile coiled as she reached out, “You’ve always been complicated.” Manicured nails brushed against his chest, sliding to pinch the collar of his shirt between delicate fingers. “We’ve always been complicated. But that always kept us on our toes.”
Before Erwin could react, she pulled him down while surging up to meet him halfway. Firm, plump lips pressed against his; soft upon contact that hastily turned urgent, as if attempting to erase years of separation with a single kiss. Frozen in place, the world narrowed to the taste of smoke and beer, the sweet citrus scent of mandarin and the moist texture of her lips. A swarm of memories cast colors in his mind of a hundred other kisses shared between them. From the counter of her lab, the backseat of a vehicle, the front of another, grinding against one another in a shower, the beach in Portugal. Each one tried to ignite the old flame in his chest, sparking and sputtering before turning black as coal.
This felt all wrong.
It was wrong.
He didn’t want this. He wanted to be back in the hushed snowy landscape, memorizing the contrast of cold skin and warm lips. The crunch of their boots as they moved, the faint smell of evergreens as they sought warmth through layers of outerwear. The way puffs of breathy gasps sifted between their faces as they moved, and tiny flurries fell around them. Around him.
Reality snapped into place, unlocking Erwin’s shocked limbs as he stepped away, holding his hands up to pull back and to deter her from crossing that sacred space again.
“What—Marie, what’re you doing?”
Her breath hitched while a mix of vulnerability and defiance twisted her features. It was a warred expression as she faltered and tried to recover her composure.
“I didn’t mean to—that was. That was a mistake... I admit that... But...” her shoulders stiffened, finding resolve in what she was building up for. “But you have to see what you’re doing with him isn’t right.”
Erwin felt his face tighten from his confusion and surprise into a glowering scowl. Any prior feelings for the woman were effectively tamped out as he let his arms fall to his side, convinced she wouldn’t be stupid enough to ignore the glare and attempt to get closer a second time.
“So, your way of telling me that is to kiss me? Jesus, Marie. If you’d been drinking, I wouldn’t hold it against you, but you’re sober. Why’d you think that was the way to go about it?”
“Because I’ve already tried talking to you, Erwin, and you’ve blown me off. Instead, I see you touching him and giving him those adoring looks when you think no one’s watching. You’re not subtle, you know? And what you’re doing proves you're morally compromised.”
Stiffening, Erwin put his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. There was no use denying it. She already knew. “What Levi and do together is not your concern. Nor is it Nile’s, while we’re on the subject. We’ve discussed what you brought up and Levi and I have already come to peace with our situation.”
“So, that’s it?” she demanded, eyes narrowing. “You’re ignoring logic and going to dive headfirst into a mess of a relationship with someone who’s unstable and ruin your reputation?”
“I distinctly remember you hating when I cared about my reputation,” he tossed back pettily.
The space between them felt charged with the wintery temperatures pressing around them. She averted her gaze, chewing on her lip as she formed a response.
“You were always busy. Work, work, work. What I wanted was never a priority for you, Erwin. You made me feel... invisible.” When her eyes met his again, he could see the aged hurt staring back, raw and searching. “I wish you didn’t care about your reputation back then. Maybe we would’ve been better if you were willing to take these risks with me.”
“This isn’t about us, Marie. You made your decision, and you picked Nile. What I’m doing with my life now doesn’t—”
“Yes—I know, I chose Nile. He was there for me, Erwin! Every time! He showered me with affection, which is all I ever wanted between us. But where were you? Huh? Where were you? Gone! On some case. And another after that. Staying late on stakeouts with your team, even crashing at their house instead of coming home—”
“What did you expect from me?” Erwin snapped, frustration boiling up with all the intensity of an old wound being ripped open. “I was the team leader on high-profile cases. You know we don’t work 9 to fucking 5. We had to work long hours and throughout the night.”
“But you volunteered for cases too! You should’ve let other units handle it instead of constantly taking more work! It made me feel like you didn’t care about me and were looking for excuses to stay away from home.”
“What do you want from me?” Erwin finally demanded, hands retreating from his pockets to swing out at his sides. “I can’t go back and fix that. You married Nile. Jesus—you’re married! You have children. A family.”
Marie’s eyes were narrowed, though they appeared wet, hinting to how livid she was with him for her emotions to be that contradictory. After swallowing hard, she shook her head as she spoke her next response, voice cracking in its delivery.
“It wasn’t him I wanted. It was you. I just... I wish things were different. I wish... I wish you looked at me like you do him.”
The words hovered between them like a phantom, mocking Erwin with all his past desires to hear those same words years—even months ago. But no. Now the truth surfaced, and yet he knew it was too late. Those words did not hold the power over him as either of them expected.
“You don’t get to do this.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off.
“You walked out on me. I was the one who got left behind. You can’t play these games. Not with me and not with your husband. If I choose to move on, if I decide to build something new, then you have no right to care.”
Her jaw looked clenched in the shadows, and her expression remained guarded, shielding herself from the fallout of everything between them. Taking a long inhale, swallowing the sharp air into his lungs, Erwin rubbed his hands down his face.
“I’m sorry, Marie. I wish things were different between us. I really do. But you were right before. I am happy where I’m at.” He leveled her with a stern reprimanding stare, “This can’t happen again, understood?”
She nodded slowly, swallowing again.
Unable to look at her any longer, fearing his guilt would make an unwelcomed appearance and make him do something he’d regret, he retreated into the building, eager to put eyes on Levi.
Upon entering, Erwin recognized that not much had changed in way of his companions’ placement around the establishment, despite feeling his own world had tilted. Levi was hunched on a stool that wasn’t there before as he watched Eren pocket one ball and line up for another. Seeing Levi say something to Sasha, causing her to laugh, eased a hint of the tightness that seized his lungs. The constant patience in Levi’s gaze, the casual posture in his hunched shoulders, gentled the grim’s broody presence, reminding Erwin of lounging on the sofa together.
Just seeing him already felt like home.
Meandering to join him, he reached out to settle a hand on his nape, disguising it as a simple gesture while kneading his thumb into the knob of Levi’s vertebrae.
“Hey,” he greeted the shifter softly. To anyone else, he was sure the subtle warmth in Levi’s gaze would go unnoticed. “You about ready to go?”
“Aww, c’mon,” Connie teased from the opposite side of the table. “We just started a new game.”
Erwin returned his attention to Levi to find the man was already watching him, though the warmth had cooled to an assessing gaze.
“You alright, Blondie?”
It took effort to not allow his mask to slip and reveal his dour mood. “I’m fine.” At the raised brow, Erwin reluctantly added, “Migraine has come back. Want to try to sleep it off.”
Whether Levi bought the lie or not, he couldn’t tell, but he was grateful when he faced the group and slid off the stool. “Sorry, Connie. I can’t carry the team all night.”
“Ha. You’re hilarious.”
“Cheer up, Cons,” Sasha elbowed him teasingly after accepting Levi’s cue. “You got $120 tonight from the last game.”
Eren chuckled, using the chalk with all the aesthetic of a villain loading a gun. He was clearly sensing the shift in the team dynamics, already settled on Connie and Sasha as easy prey. “You’re just holding onto it for now. We’ll be taking it back after this game.”
“Double or nothing!” Sasha cheered.
Connie visibly withered.
Levi shrugged. “Next time, if you’ll have me. We’ll make them regret it.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Connie conceded, which was a promising response in Erwin’s opinion. It appeared Connie didn’t have the capacity to hold a grudge like Nile.
Just remembering Nile and Marie curdled his mood further, sinking his hand to the small of Levi’s back again.
“Alright, don’t let us hold you up, lovebirds,” Jean grinned wickedly. “Have a good rest of your night.”
Eren’s toothy smile mirrored his friend’s, clearly motivated by something that escaped Erwin’s knowledge. He was too tired to unpack whatever they were up to and chose to ignore the ‘lovebird’ comment, as Levi flipped the agents off. After stopping to say goodbye to the rest of the team at the table, not making eye contact with Marie who had returned to her place between Nile and Nanba, he followed Levi out of the bar.
Finally able to take a freeing breath, he indulged his urges, seeking comfort in his companion by brushing his hand against the back of Levi’s. The shifter didn’t move to take it, though the playful side-eye was nothing short of a dare for Erwin to do something about it.
Still unsettled from the alley, Erwin decided on hooking his pinky with Levi’s, finding that frail point of connection strengthened when the shifter curled his tighter in response.
“So, what was that about with Jean and Eren?” he asked as they started down the sidewalk with their jackets buttoned tight.
Levi shrugged. “No clue. They’ve been making comments like that all night. Thought they were just being drunk idiots. Why?” he glanced at Erwin while tilting his head to the side, a carry over from his canine side. “Was that not normal for them?”
“Hm,” Erwin didn’t want to reveal that maybe they were picking up on the change in their relationship. It was one thing for Marie to notice—especially, after learning she hadn’t stopped pining for Erwin—but for the two young agents? It wasn’t promising. Alternatively, he didn’t think they came to that conclusion on their own. He suspected a certain Zacharias couple were behind the comments. “They were likely just poking fun.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? Or was it something else that happened?”
They stopped at the SUV where Erwin reached around his front to dig in his pocket, so he didn’t have to release Levi just yet. “It’s... I suppose you could say others are suspecting we’re closer than before.”
“Does that upset you?” Levi asked carefully, not revealing his thoughts one way or another as Erwin unlocked the car.
“No,” Erwin curled his finger tighter around Levi’s when he started to get in the car, halting him. “It’s not that I believe... whatever we decide needs to be hidden. My concern is the wrong people finding out and using that as a way to ruin the work we have, challenge the morality of it, or try taking you away.”
“We’ll be careful then,” Levi said as if it was the easiest solution in the world.
Erwin wished it was so simply, but keeping his thoughts to himself, he raised Levi’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss across his knuckles. The streetlights were bright enough to see Levi’s nostrils flare on an inhale and the corners of his eyes tighten as he processed something lost to Erwin.
Belatedly, he realized he was standing close to a strong shifter, outside, without conflicting scents in a crowded bar. And then he remembered how well Mike and Eren could pick up on things even in their human forms with their enhanced senses.
Oh, shit.
Notes:
TW: gruesome details, murder/character death.
I had 75% of this written in a freaken day at the beginning of the week. Can you believe that? I couldn’t. I was even optimistic in submitting it Monday or Tuesday, but work kicked my ass, so... end of the week posting-- here it is.
Next chapter will have more Erwin x Levi time!! And... well a bunch of other stuff. The plot is changing gears and scenery!
Thank you for all the amazing comments! They really get me through my week; I don't think you realize how much. Until next time, take care and stay safe!! 🖤🩶
Chapter 29: Snipe Hunt
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
Levi felt his lip involuntarily twitch, aching to lift into a snarl. However, just like the countless times before in the last 16 hours, he suppressed it. As a result, the muscle spasm moved toward his eye where he felt it tick beneath his lashes. There wasn’t much to be done about that aside from rubbing his cheek, yet with his arms intertwined snuggly over his chest, he just couldn’t be bothered.
Since leaving the bar, everything between him and Erwin turned awkward. The drive to the cabin was completed in a silence fit for a tomb, as if the extinction of verbal exchange sucked all other forms of life from the vehicle. After each had their respectively long showers, getting into the bed was done out of reluctance and obligation on Levi’s part. He even shifted into his grim form and claimed the foot of the mattress as his own territory, refusing to join Erwin under the covers.
Was he being childish by ensuring he was incapable of responding to Erwin? Perhaps. But that was better than the alternative.
Erwin still tried to talk to him. Used a handful of prodding, open-ended questions as if the bastard didn’t know what pissed Levi off. Of course, he wasn’t going to answer the reaper or play his games. Erwin knew full well what was going on, and Levi refused to admit what upset him because that would give the illusion Erwin had some unawareness about what he did, absolve him somehow. And that was not the case. Not by a long shot.
So, yes. Recognizing the unmistakable perfume from Marie on Erwin—interwoven in the fabric of his shirt—was enough to send Levi into a vow of silence with a perpetual broody scowl. Because he distinctly recalled they had not been touching when Levi was at the booth. And when he was playing pool, he looked at the table a few times to take attendance on who was sitting there and who was not.
Outside for some fresh air. —Insert posh prick tone here--
Yeah. Alright. Fucking asshole.
Predictably, the awkwardness persisted into the following morning. Levi went for a run in the forest as his canine self and came back, feeling just as ticked off as when he left, especially after Erwin politely informed him that Mike called them in to question the two officers, Hitch and Mina. It didn’t help that Erwin followed up with Clint having called as well, requesting they come in for a briefing in the next few days to explain why Levi was temporarily suspended from GSIS. Seemingly, the universe was determined to not allow Levi time to cool down and come to terms with dumbass-Erwin and fucking clingy-Marie.
So, back to yet another uncomfortable car ride into the city. Fan-fucking-tastic.
The worst part was, when he realized that Erwin and Marie were outside together, Levi ignored the tug in his chest, blaming it on his insecurity which he did his best to squash. It never made another appearance when Erwin returned to the pool table, looking flustered and almost spooked, as if he had received another set of bad news. That alarmed Levi to see Erwin trying to hide how rattled he was, so he didn’t question it when Erwin asked to leave. What he hadn’t anticipated was that Erwin was doing so to escape the apparent problem that was Marie and whatever occurred outside between them.
Something that was obviously too intimate to do at a booth with their friends present, which was enough for Levi’s throat to constrict on a growl trying to break free.
As soon as he realized what was going on with the reaper, his brows scrunched up and when he made eye contact, Erwin’s gaze reflected that of a deer in headlights. Because he knew Levi picked up on the scent. Yeah, I see you motherfucker.
A little, frail voice in the back of Levi’s head tried to reason with him. Saying that, Erwin was clearly upset when he returned. That maybe it wasn’t something he initiated—after all, she was the one pulling him aside to talk privately before at GSIS. Unfortunately, trying to counter with logic against the unexpected tide of emotions was a losing battle.
He was too overwhelmed to deal with domestic spats on top of his own issues. They barely even breached the line into possibly exploring a deeper relationship, and Erwin was pulling this shit already? Refamiliarizing himself with his ex-fiancé?
The greedy creature awakening in Levi’s chest wanted to snarl and gnaw on the female reaper. A strange and rather newly hatched feeling that he could finally name as jealously. He had never crossed paths with it before, and frankly he didn’t care much for its acquaintance. It left Levi feeling like shit. A mix of hurt and anger swirling around in his gut like... well, he wasn’t going to finish that thought because it frankly made him want to puke.
“Levi...” Erwin ventured from the driver seat; tone gentle, cautious, not looking to offend. “Can we talk about it?”
Oh, so now he admitted to knowing what it was, huh?
Levi didn’t know how to answer as he stared out the passenger window, jaw clenched. He could hear Erwin’s finger tap on the wheel, not in a rhythm but a way to dispel some built-up energy as he tried to navigate what essentially became a dragon’s lair in the cab. Fitting as Levi could feel the heat simmering beneath his gums from how irritated he was. But it was more than that.
Levi’s heart hurt.
His head, not any better.
Why did everything have to be a struggle? Why did the simple smell of mandarin and jasmine have the power to make him feel so alone.
“Levi.”
Taking a slow inhale, Levi tried to split a path through the negative emotions, but he felt like he was hitting a wall. An anchor tied to his feet refusing to let him get past the ache of betrayal he probably had no right or entitlement to feel. For the love of sweet hell, he didn’t know how to process this or understand why he wanted more from Erwin to begin with.
“Levi, please don’t ignore me.”
It came out as nothing but a plead and damn it if it didn’t get Levi’s attention.
“Speak,” he permitted, swallowing a wry scoff. A canine giving command to the reaper should not have been that funny.
The irony was lost on Erwin who obeyed the opening he was given. After floundering a bit, he managed to say, “I’m assuming this is about what occurred between myself and Marie?”
“Don’t ask questions that you already know the answer. If you do it again, I’m not talking to you.”
Well, that wasn’t the mature response he had in mind, but Levi was sparse on fucks to give. Fresh out. Nothing on backorder. Sorry for your bad luck, pal.
Erwin exhaled as if he was deflating. “I should’ve read the signs. I’m better than that, I know. But as Mike will tell you, I’ve always been a little blind when it comes to Marie.”
Just hearing him say her name made Levi’s skin crawl.
When he got no response, Erwin continued, “I'll take responsibility for not noticing or putting an end to it sooner. That part is entirely my fault.”
“Putting an end to what?” Levi challenged, because you know, he was just itching for punishment. Did he want to hear it? No. Did he need to? Well, if he wanted confirmation and Erwin to openly admit to his transgression, fuck yes.
Erwin reeked of discomfort. It roiled off him in thick waves that Levi could feel clashed with his own across the center console.
“She... uh. There was a kiss,” he murmured quietly, fearful to speak too loud like it would wake said dragon.
And there it was. The admission. The confession. Whatever he could classify it as. Confirmation mostly, as it cemented what Levi’s nose told him. As much as he hoped to feel smug and toss an “I knew it” at Erwin to rub salt in the wound, he only felt the sting in his own.
What exactly was he going to do with that information? It didn’t change anything.
“It caught me off guard before I could stop it from occurring. I need you to know I didn’t want that to happen—it was never my intention to kiss her.”
“So, you kissed her?”
“Well,” the wince was carried in his voice, “she kissed me.”
“Did you kiss her back?”
“... There was an initial response before I pulled away,” he moused out. If the man’s voice was capable of cracking, Levi was certain it would have if he spoke louder. “I don’t know why I did it, Levi. Just some ingrained response, a natural reaction with her. Maybe I was just too stunned, I don’t know.”
In the corner of his eyes, he saw Erwin rake a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing the skin roughly to dispel whatever anxiety he carried.
“I really don’t know. But when I realized what was happening, that I didn’t want that at all, I pulled away and told her as such.”
The only sound between them was the road noise of the tires, low rumble of the engine, and the wind catching on the side mirror.
When Levi still didn’t answer a mile later, Erwin sent a searching glance his direction, “Levi. Please say something.”
“I don’t have anything to say. Probably like you wouldn’t have mentioned it had I not smelt her all over you.”
“No that’s—”
Levi snapped his gaze to tangle with his, though Erwin’s was split between him and the road.
“Would you have told me?” he challenged.
“...” Erwin’s grip strangled the steering wheel as he muttered, “I put an end to it in the alley. I was just going to leave it there.”
Something blistering like lava overflowed from his ribs. “I agreed to keeping whatever is happening between us a secret in public to maintain the image until my year is up. I did not agree to you fucking around with your ex while we’re at it.”
“Levi—that’s not it.”
“Even if she did kiss you, the fact you didn’t see it mattered to admit it just makes me think you’re comfortable keeping secrets from me.”
“You’re right—I see where I should’ve told you as soon as we were out of the bar, but I had every intention of just ending it there.”
“It doesn’t look that way when you weren’t going to tell me. For all I know, you could be making this shit up and planning some rendezvous with her after dumping me off in Hange’s lab to be babysat.”
Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m truly sorry, Levi. I swear to you, that was never my intention. She kissed me, I told her never to do that again after an argument broke out, and then I left to get you. That was all that happened, I promise you on my soul. I only want you and whatever you deem fit to allow me to have. Not her.”
Levi blew out a breath, finding some of the ache soothed when he sensed Erwin’s candor. The reaper was not one to plead and right then, he was practically begging. But it was hard to forgive Erwin completely when he knew the man’s penchant for manipulation. Alternatively, it didn’t escape Levi’s knowledge that Marie had a conniving streak of her own, one that he could see her using to prey on the shared history with Erwin to get her way. And that realization had his own protective instincts flaring up just as strongly as the betrayal.
Right now, his mind was a fucking circus. A war campaign between guard, guard, guard, and let me snap my jaws at you which made him uncertain on how to proceed. Trying to break it down to the foundation of the issue, to limit everything to bare facts, Levi listed it off in his mind.
Did he believe Marie initiated it? Yes.
Did he believe Erwin sought her out? No. Not based on his hesitance when they were with Mike in the conference room and she insisted on a private discussion.
Did he think Erwin would go off alone with her again if she asked him to? Well... he couldn’t say, and that was a problem for his insecurity and envious demon to cope with.
But, in the end, he concluded that at the core of the issue, Levi was upset over the omitting of truths. The fact Erwin wasn’t going to tell him.
“What was the argument about?” Levi asked, mulling over his revelation as he tried to pilot what to do next with it.
“You,” Erwin replied with little fanfare. “Me. My past relationship failure. It wasn’t exactly affable.”
“Why me? I never did anything to her.”
Erwin sighed. “She's envious. Mostly because I'm willing to risk my reputation on courting you when I never prioritized her when we were together... She’s not wrong but kissing me was the worst way to address it, and I told her she already made her decision long ago. She’s married, and Nile and her family are her priority now.”
“Don’t know why she’d think that would change anything between you two.”
The reaper pursed his lips, brows drawn tightly together. “We never handled our issues the healthiest way in the past. Toward the end of our relationship, I admit it turned fairly toxic.”
“Mike mentioned something about that.”
“I figured he would’ve gossiped about it sooner or later to you.”
“It was because she’d given me some stink eye after a meeting or something when I asked him what her deal was.”
Erwin nodded. “That would be why. I hadn’t realized she was taking it as a personal insult at first. But she sensed our relationship was changing and tried to deter it from progressing.”
Levi chewed over that explanation, finding that it was a balm he was hoping to hear. Tension eased gradually, and while the ache had dulled, he was confident that he had the full picture now.
“If something like that happens again, don’t fucking keep it from me. You yap at me about communication; well it goes both ways. Could’ve skipped the whole pissed off stage much quicker had you just told me.”
Erwin nearly turned to candlewax as his posture melted. “You’re right. I won’t do that again, Levi.”
“Good. Also, I can’t say I’ll be fine if she tries to talk to you in private again. Actually, I’ll probably say something if she attempts it.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. Whatever she has to say can be said in front of you or anyone else around. I think that’s best for everyone.”
“Good,” Levi repeated, inner canine pleased his boundaries were being respected. “Also, you’re treating me to a milkshake. And fries.”
“On the way to the office or after?”
“To. I’m going to sit in the observation room, enjoying my meal while you do all your interrogation work.”
“Oh. So, I’m the entertainment for you then.”
“Yup. I expect it to be a riveting performance. Like Batman interrogating the Joker.”
Erwin’s brow arched but he looked unimpressed. “Pretty sure that won’t be happening. You’re worth a lot of things, but I’m drawing the line at being prosecuted for your enjoyment.”
Levi scoffed. “Fine. I guess I can’t have you getting locked away. Where’d that leave me? Who would do the cooking?... How about emulating Knives Out? I enjoyed that questioning scene with the piano.”
A smirk flirted its way onto the reaper’s face as he nodded his head. “I think that’s more my speed. I’ll see what I can do about the piano.”
“Can’t wait, Blondie.”
***
There was no piano. A shame really.
But Levi did have two large orders of fries and a milkshake, which he nursed happily from the chair in the observation room. Or as happily as he could while watching Erwin question Mina and Hitch individually regarding what happened with Pixis. On the surface, that was how the questions were portrayed but underneath they were prodding for any indication of the Cascade Butcher or potential ties to the coven.
The rest of the team were elsewhere, called away on another case unrelated, leaving it up to Erwin and Levi. Shadis had made a brief appearance, hovering like the unwanted gnat. Silent, but annoyingly present. He didn’t say much before he left with an order for Levi to have Erwin report if something comes up. Which seemed like a no brainer, but he nodded like a good boy and munched on his fries.
Hange arrived a short while later, taking the empty seat and watching through the one-way glass. In typical fashion, she picked up that something was bothering Levi, though he couldn’t be certain if his face gave it away or the amount of fries at his disposal. Surprising them both, he confided in her with the recent events between him and Erwin, rather than having her run the full inquisition to find the source of his troubles.
“Ooph,” she winced dramatically. “Yeah, that’s a foul on Erwin. That silly reaper.”
“He said he’s never been as sharp on reading signs with Marie.”
“Which is entirely true. He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met—no denying that. Can probably tongue-tie a Sphynx or turn a troll away from its own bridge, honestly. But whenever she’s around, it’s like his IQ plummets faster than the Titanic. And, what makes it worse is that she knows it. Uses it to her advantage which is probably how she kept her and Nile’s affair behind his back for as long as she had.”
“They actually were fucking while she was engaged to Erwin?” Levi’s brows dipped as he scrutinized Hange.
The vampire nodded vigorously, stray hair flopping around her glasses. “Oh, yeah. We didn’t know it at the time. Actually, Mike was the one to bring it up to Erwin, telling him she smelled a bit too strongly of Nile one day. That’s when all hell broke loose.”
“I figured he would’ve been able to pick up on it sooner with that nose. I was able to and all they did was kiss.”
“Well, you have to remember, Nile and Marie, though specializing in different parts of their field, work together in the labs. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smell similar to one another while spending hours in close capacity.”
Levi absorbed the information, finding sense in it though couldn’t help feeling angry on Erwin’s behalf. What a shitty way to end an engagement. Not only was the person he was willing to pledge his life to manipulating him, but also sleeping with a long-time friend and co-working on top of it. No wonder why he was fed up with working as an agent. Between that and criminals buying their way out of punishment, there was little reason to stay. Especially when working as a consultant, it gave him the flexibility to still make a difference without the added bullshit.
It was then Levi realized what he was doing, and he tilted his head back with a groan. “I can’t believe you’ve sucked me into participating in office gossip.”
Hange cackled. “But you’re doing it with me which makes it ok. I’m the best at delivering all the juicy details without the worry of fact-checking.”
“If you say so.”
“It’s true. Ask anyone.”
“I’m not looking to make this a habit. Just wanted confirmation that I’m not making a mistake for believing Erwin’s explanation.”
Hange blew a raspberry. “You should make gossip a habit, especially when there’s some interesting theories going on around you.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Your loss. As for Erwin, well, I’d say you’re safe trusting he was telling you the truth. He’s a... how do you Hibernians say it? Leibide?”
Levi scoffed. “Eejit? Calling Erwin dumb after just praising his intellect, Hange?”
“Well, if he didn’t act like it, he wouldn’t be labeled as such.”
“Wow, some friend you are.”
“It’s tough love. Plus, he needs some hard lessons in his life or else it’d never get through his thick skull. If you want my advice,” she pointed at the food on the table, “milk it for awhile longer. His guilt will keep him jumping through all sorts of hoops to make it up to you.”
Levi shook his head, the corner of his lips playing upwards. “You’re a menace.”
“It’s a duty I take very seriously. But, as much as I enjoyed our catching up,” Hange stood from the chair, “I do need to go help Moblit. Remember what I said about drawing it out. You won’t regret it. Erwin may even do more than just buy you things, if you know what I mean.”
Levi tossed a fry at her which she caught and stuffed in her mouth. “Bye Levi!” she sang, leaving the observation room before he could retaliate.
Finally alone, he returned his attention to the interview, thankful that the room was soundproof. From what Mike and Nanaba had mentioned, the officers Erwin was questioning had shown signs of deception and unease more so than someone who knew they had nothing to hide.
Of course, Erwin was all charisma, offering them fresh tea and coffee to hold onto through the paper cups, appealing toward their subconscious to associate him with warmth and comfort. Levi was told it was a favorite tactic of his while others liked to lean more into making their subjects uncomfortable where they could slip up. The friendlier approach always seemed to create a sense of trust, and it was easier to keep conversations flowing, in his opinion.
Erwin’s posture was decidedly laxed in the chair, occasionally leaning back with a leg crossed or leaning forward slightly during certain retellings to show interest. His questions had started broad with no inclination in his voice to hint what variables were important to him, so as not to allow the interviewee to guess on what to hide. Then, based on those answers, he narrowed it down after assessing the responses in what he called the funnel effect. The process was complex and didn’t even scratch the surface of techniques available, so Levi understood why Jean and Eren were in over their heads with it.
The wolven officer, Hitch Dreyse, had proven to have a knack for avoiding questions, getting defensive at times, though that didn’t mean she was guilty. During a water break, Erwin mentioned to Levi that she very well could be hiding something but for all they knew it was an unrelated secret.
The second officer, Mina Carolina, was the one Erwin was most curious about. She was less abrasive than her counterpart and polite. It took a bit of charm to convince her to unfurl and start talking, in which Erwin made sure to take a stronger listening role. To Levi’s shock, it worked. Mina opened quickly once given the space to do so, which resulted in a strange rampant that was eerily like Hange’s gossip prior.
“... and Pixis did not like when we had our dog and pony shows. At least, when it came to state chairholders,” she replayed with her eyes wide, a clear sign to stay clear of that mess.
“No,” Erwin drawled as if surprised. “I would’ve thought he’d be thrilled to show off his precinct.”
“Yeah. Normally, with the mayor or whoever, sure. But you get the big-wigs down and oh-boy. He probably drank his flask dry as soon as he got the notice.”
“Do you think it was the stress of getting the building ready, or something else?”
Levi lost count of how many times his brows arched, or he rolled his eyes. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have guessed Erwin was enjoying this. What next, paint each other’s toenails after the interrogation? Now, that would be hilarious to see.
“Well, I don’t know what it was about, but I think it had something to do with Lt. Governor Romero, uh... there was so many rumors as to why that was.”
“Office chatter?” Erwin baited with a chuckle. “Don’t tell me there was conspiracy theories.”
“More like betting pools and ghost stories.”
“Oh? Aren’t most of the precinct made up of a human demographic?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“What sort of ghost stories do they come up with? I’ll admit, I’ve always wondered how it differs from GSIS.”
Mina giggled. “It’s not all that different, sorry. Some said it was a grudge that Pixis had against him because he had a full head of hair. Others said that the minivan Pixis used to love was totaled by the governor running a red light and t-boning him. Another was that he bought the last pineapple at the grocery store before Chief could get it for his weekend pina coladas.” She shrugged before turning serious. “The other side of those was a rumor that the governor was blackmailing certain officers in the precinct and Chief got wind of it. But I don’t know about any of that.”
“Not even who may have been the targeted officers?”
Mina was starting to clam up. Sinking into her seat, avoiding eye contact, curling her chin lower. “I don’t have any names. Like I said, it was rumors.”
“I’ve known Pixis for a long time, but never seen him get protective of his officers unless he had a reason to. Really makes me curious who he wanted to guard.” Erwin’s delivery remained light and casual, but the message was a low blow. Clever, but still uncomfortable on who it was aimed at.
If she respected Pixis at all, she would feel the pressure of his statement regarding protecting her own. If not, she would shrug it off or change topics. It was a challenge to her character.
As Levi waited for Mina to pick her words, they were rewarded with the first real answer.
“One of them... is the officer that came in with me.”
Erwin didn’t let his face give anything away except concern. “Do you know what it may have been about?”
Mina blew out a long breath. “Something about her sleeping with some other political official. I think it was something that could cost her the badge, but that’s just rumors. And you didn’t hear that from me. Hitch is an amazing officer. Sure, she parties on weekends, but she’s not belligerent about it. Just living her life.”
After a few more questions, Erwin left the room and returned to Hitch’s, ready to unleased the bombshell he just collected. True to his word, he didn’t tell her it was Mina who revealed it, but it didn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together.
“No! That never happened! I-I don’t know where you heard that from!”
Levi watched as Erwin switched gears to consoling and orientating the room to feel like a safe space for her, which she eventually withered under the weight of his golden-agent persona.
“Ok... Yes. He threatened me to keep quiet about it.”
“Why would he threaten you to stay quiet about the affair if he was just going to turn around and tell your supervisor the same thing?”
“It wasn’t that I slept with the senator’s son that he wanted me to keep quiet about. It was the fact I... I saw him with someone else in a high-end Supra club.”
“Who?”
“Look, Agent Smith, I really don’t want to—can’t lose my job. I worked so hard for it.”
“Officer Dreyse, I understand you’re in an uncomfortable position, but conflict of interests aside between you and the senator’s son, if Governor Romero is wanting you to stay quiet about something, it means it shouldn’t be kept a secret. You swore an oath when you took that badge and no one is above the law.”
“But I don’t know if he even did anything wrong. He was just sitting at the other person’s booth.”
“And if he was doing something illegal, you’re protecting him by keeping it secret.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re withholding information, Ms. Dreyse.”
The wolven buried her face in her hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Eventually, when she scraped her thoughts together, she spoke into her palms. “It was him and Lord Tybur.”
And while it wasn’t a direct link to the precinct, it sure as shit connected another line to the tangled web.
Another incident of blackmail.
Another official link to Tybur and the precinct.
***
“And you said next week he’ll return?” Erwin clarified, voice taunt with agitation. “Right. Thank you for your time... You too.”
Ending the call, he released the phone onto the tabletop with a thud, reclining in the chair to rub his eyes.
“Apparently, Romero decided to treat himself to a short holiday.”
“You mean he went somewhere for Christmas week? No,” Levi feigned with a deadened gaze.
Erwin lowered his hands enough to glower at him, pulling his cheeks down in the process. “I don’t like your tone.”
“Well, what do we do now if he's not at his office,” he asked, ignoring the comment.
The reaper dropped his hands, fingers spinning the corner of his phone in a circle on the table. With the governor’s name popping up like an unwanted rodent in a garden bed, maintaining the status quo and waiting wasn’t an option. Not unless they were willing to risk someone else falling victim to whatever was going on.
“We could wait until after the holiday when he returns to his office...”
“Or?” Levi pressed.
“Or we could go to him.”
Levi cocked his head to the side, resting on his knuckles. “Go where exactly? You know where he lives?”
The phone slowed to a stop. “Did you forget? We have resources at our disposal here,” he gestured to the room, but Levi understood it was the building itself. “We can run a search on his properties and find out where he’s likely staying.”
“Couldn’t he be out of state?”
“I doubt he will go that far if he’s planning on returning before New Years.”
“Right. We—and I mostly mean you, because I have no fucking idea how to do it—will look up his home away from home... and then what? The rest of the team is out on another assignment. Just wait until they return?”
Erwin flicked his pinky against his thumbnail, a snick-snick-snick as he articulated his response. Seeing as the informant leak(s) had yet to be absolved, their circle of trust was shrinking a little more each day, restricting their resources to counter Tybur's mole.
“I’m holding off on reporting to Shadis. I don’t want him to have another unit accompany us.”
Levi pursed his lips and dipped of his chin in agreement.
“I think you and I are capable to questioning him ourselves.”
“You sure?”
Confidence settling in, Erwin scooped up his phone and stood up. “Indeed. We’re plenty capable of handling the governor. Who knows, seeing you may get him to loosen his tongue for us.”
Levi followed onto his feet, huffing out a burst of air. “One can hope that’s all he does.”
Erwin was unmoved by his dreary unenthusiasm as he opened the observation room door for him. “Don’t be so sour. It’ll be a nice field trip for us. Get out of the building and see new views. Let’s go ask about using Hange’s computer.”
“Right. I want another milkshake when we’re done,” he demanded walking into the corridor.
“One milkshake a day is fair. Two is pushing it.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. I don’t want you rotting your teeth out.”
“What kind of backwards--? My teeth are fine. Another milkshake won’t hurt.”
“You don’t know that, Levi. Too much sweets will give cavities. How about as a dessert, after a nutritious meal for dinner.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake, you’re actually being serious.”
Erwin scoffed, mildly offended by Levi’s grousing. “I’m just looking out for your health.”
“I can’t deal with you.”
***
As agreed, they kept their plans to themselves. Briefing Shadis consisted of limited details involving rumors amongst the police officers that required further investigating. When pressed for what that entailed, Erwin portrayed it as too wearisome to list them all and preferred to sieve what was real and what wasn’t before bringing it to his attention. That appeased Shadis enough to slacken their leashes to do what they needed.
Armed with an address and Erwin’s possibly questionable ardor, they returned to the cabin, packed an overnight bag and left for the Kitsap Peninsula. Located away from the mainland, Romero had purchased a quaint seaside home where news reports, hosted by pretty women donning fine décolleté driven to keep interests, had mentioned he enjoyed residing when on leave. As their target was a recent divorcé, Erwin wasn’t concerned about dropping in on a family holiday or alarming any children. Something Levi hadn’t considered until Erwin mentioned it in his self-appointed task of confirming why said trip was a good idea in the first place.
Levi, if he was honest, was merely along for the ride. Support, in a way, as his experience in questioning a suspect equaled to the impressive amount of nil. He was simply there to find out more about Romero’s involvement and his disconcerting companionship with Tybur. As narrow-focused as that made him, he could not bring himself to care about potential third parties being present. If a family was involved, the reaper and grim were the lowest threats to their livelihoods. Talk about irony.
The sun had dipped beyond the horizon when they dropped off their things at the hotel room. Not knowing how late it would be or if it would take more than a day to corner Romero, Erwin had decided to save on driving a few hours between Port Orchard and the cabin. Again, Levi couldn’t have cared less.
What he did care about, was the fancy home on the waterfront, topped with a view of the forested land across the bay and distant Seattle city lights. The neighborhood that it resided in accommodated spaciously manicured lawns and trees between homes for a bid at privacy. It was unassuming with panoramic windows facing the water inlets, and yet still capable of hiding the atrocities the governor and his ‘friend’ were responsible for. So unassuming for what could possibly be the equivalent of a villain’s lair.
Levi had always known how maddening it was to recognize Tybur’s dirty little secrets and yet everyone else fawned over him like he was a god’s gift to the world. No wonder Erwin quit GSIS when he witnessed so many of the same thing after evidence was discovered to boot. He would probably lose his shit too and start rows with Shadis or quit too if all his efforts to bring in the guilty were swept under the rug. Fortunately, he and Erwin weren’t willing to risk Tybur getting that far in the investigation to pull his strings and reel in contacts. Isolating the vampire was key. But to get to Tybur, they needed a stepping stone, and their most promising one was currently very unimpressed with that attention.
“I know who you are,” Romero interrupted upon opening the door to them. Levi was half-expecting some hired help to do it for the snobbish man, but supposed that was more of a Supra tradition nowadays.
“Excellent,” Erwin replied smartly. “That cuts down on introductions as I’m sure you can estimate why we’re here.”
The following intelligence battle/argument/dick-measuring droned on for a handful of minutes (much to Levi’s chagrin), until Erwin made it abundantly clear they were not leaving without answers. A few mild threats on Erwin’s career followed, but as he was a contractor and Reaper under SRC, even Romero knew he had little sway against the Supra. Inevitably, it didn’t matter what power trip the guy was on because after all his posturing, he eventually bowed under the weight of the reaper’s presence and reluctantly let them in.
The following discussion, if one would call it such, was extended dancing around the subject of his alibis for the past murders which he baulked at. Every date, he had an answer on where he was previously occupied, along with many witnesses that Levi knew they would be verifying when they returned to GSIS. Some of the alibis were easy to skip seeing as the events were publicized and there was photo evidence online of Romero’s attendance.
Shifting gears, Erwin directed the discussion to what his conversation consisted of with Pixis’ widow during the funeral, pretending to be none the wiser of context. At first, it started with vague questions but when he continued to play dumb, Erwin decided to disclose what Anka had revealed. While it put her in a difficult position, the fact Erwin—and by extension, GSIS—knew about Romero’s threat, the odds of the governor following through was miniscule. And even if he did, the scandal it would cause from manipulating a widow’s pension would fill front headlines no matter what his influence was.
Romero’s stoney expression neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. Levi was growing tired of the man’s resistance, and thankfully, Erwin wasn’t willing to drag it out longer than necessary. He followed the threat up with rumors of his blackmailing of Officer Dreyse, cornering him further into answering the questions.
“So, what was it that you wanted Anka to keep quiet about?” Erwin laid out plainly, then waited.
Romero shuffled, wasted time sipping on his gin, spun the crystal between his fingers, and stared out the windows at the dark water. After an excruciating minute passed, he swiveled his gaze at them and reluctantly answered.
“It’s true. I didn’t want Officer Dreyse to reveal my connection with Lord Tybur at the club.”
“Why is that? It’s public knowledge that you and he frequent events together.”
Levi cut in before the human could respond, “You two seemed chummy on television with that charity event.”
Romero passed a distasteful stare at him but didn’t respond, choosing to continue speaking to Erwin.
“When she saw us, it was before our friendship blossomed. We were in the beginning stages and while yes, Lord Tybur has a prestigious legacy to his name, in the political world he also has some shocking rumors along with it. The last thing I wanted was my reputation to be tied to his before I got a feel for him.”
“And once you got this ‘feel’, as you say, you decided those rumors were acceptable to look away from?” Erwin challenged.
Romero rolled his eyes. “I did my research and found no evidence to validate them. Seeing as there wasn’t any threat, we continued to chat during the events we shared and eventually became friends. I had not seen Ms. Dreyse since the initial warning and assumed she would’ve seen our public interactions to know it didn’t matter what she said any longer.”
“That still doesn’t explain the threat made against Anka.”
“I have nothing to say on that.”
“I think you do. Whether it was at the end of the funeral or not, you still threatened her publicly. I can bring you in for questioning if that would make you more comfortable.”
Levi glanced at Erwin, seeing his face was set, but the way his brows arched ever so slightly indicated the clear promise.
Romero shook his head, set his glass down, and glowered. “Look. I get it appears bad, alright, but I didn’t have anything to do with the Chief’s death.”
“Tell us what it was about.”
Romero sighed in defeat, swaying his weight on his feet as his body primed for fight-or-flight. He was exhibiting all the signs of anxious energy and hiding secrets before his shoulders slumped.
“Alright, look. I may have... been allegedly accused of Political Intimidation. Allegedly.”
“Please explain.”
“Do I really need to?”
“Again, I brought my SUV. There’s plenty of room for all three of us.”
“Christ, you’re persistent... Alright, fine.” He held up a hand, “But again I had nothing to do with his murder. I know how it looks, but you have to believe me.”
Levi wanted to scoff. They didn’t have to do shit, but there was no point in telling him that. When Erwin only stared, waiting with unending patience that only death could harness, Romero caved in.
“I allegedly bribed some officers to investigate political opponents and find dirt to expose them if they didn’t back down on certain issues. And the Chief may have found out about it and told his widow who I wanted to ensure kept any details of such to herself and not release it to the press.”
Erwin and Levi shared a side-eye, an unspoken passage of confusion. When the reaper refocused on the governor, he tailored his response to avoid accusation.
“You told her not to reveal the supposed political intimidation and bribery? Not about someone else working in the precinct?”
Romero’s brows pinched together. “What? No. Why would I worry about someone else? Are you talking about the officers I bribed?”
“Talking about a possible informant working in the precinct. Someone tied to Lord Tybur.”
The man raised his hands in the air as supplication. “Whoa, that’s out of my wheelhouse. I have nothing to do with a possible informant. I was looking out for my own career over the—again—alleged accusations.”
Levi could smell the stench of sweat forming on the governor, but it lacked the sourness that came from fear. The man was anxious, that was a given, though he wasn’t afraid in the way one was of being found in a lie. That didn’t mean he was entirely honest either.
One thing was certain; they had two conflicting stories and no new leads.
***
“I’m beginning to understand the team’s frustrations with this case. The number of dead ends is alarming,” Erwin groused, slapping at the light switch as the hotel door closed behind them. “I’m afraid most of the taxpayers’ money has been wasted on a wild goose chase.”
“Is deacair giorria a chur as tor nach bhfuil sé ann,” Levi grumbled in thick Irish accent as he kicked his shoes off and set them beneath the foot of the mattress.
Erwin peeled off his jacket while tilting his head at Levi. “And what does that mean?”
Spinning around, Levi slumped backwards so he was laying in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling with arms splayed at his sides. “It means it is hard to drive a hare out of a bush in which he is not.”
“Hm. Appropriate idiom. At least it maintains our role as the hunters in this instance and keeps Tybur as the hare.”
Levi was quiet for a moment before a startled laugh escaped. “That reminds me of... what was it? A pub or something in England... Oh, the Vampire Rabbit of Newcastle.”
There was a delay between them before a dawning light crossed over Erwin’s gaze. “It was the statue over the cathedral entrance in Newcastle. I forgot all about it. Never knew why they made that décor choice, to be honest.”
“I don’t know,” Levi shrugged from the bed. “Furlan told me it was used to scare off grave robbers.”
“So, is that what we’re referencing Tybur to? A vampiric hare?”
“I’d rather stay the hound, blood-sucking lepus or not.”
Erwin laughed again, a rich rumble that shed any prior stress from Romero’s interview away. “I’m a tad ashamed to admit it, but I think you’re more cultured in this instance than I am.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, when you mentioned vampire rabbit, I instantly thought of the Monty Python movie.”
“There’s a movie about a blood-drinking hare?”
“No, not necessarily. There’s just a scene regarding the dreaded Rabbit of Caerbannog, which is a harmless bunny that turns vicious and attacks the characters.”
“Way to spoil the ending.”
“I didn’t spoil anything. We’ll watch it one of these days.” Erwin followed suit by kicking his shoes off and left them haphazardly at the door.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Erwin dropped onto the mattress beside Levi, jostling the grim from the springs. Lifting his head to toss an irate glare at the reaper, Levi pulled his lips back to reveal teeth.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Unaffected by the dry warning, Erwin grinned as he settled on his side facing Levi, elbow digging into the mattress so he could prop his head on his knuckles. Staring fondly at Levi, he answered, “Figured you were overdue for some attention.”
“I don’t think so. Get off my bed.”
The reaper baulked at the flat dismissal, then his expression pinched. “What’re you talking about?”
“There are two beds. Get your own.” Levi closed his eyes though his face was aimed at the ceiling.
“That’s just rude.”
“No. It’s math.”
“It’s dumb, is what it is,” Erwin pouted, still not moving. “We’ve been sharing a bed all this time and now you want to change it?”
“I’m on vacation,” Levi answered plainly, a bratty smile playing across his lips. “I deserve a break.”
“Is that what I’ve been reduced to? Money for your vacation?”
“And my chauffer. Or Uber. Whatever you called it.”
“You don’t pay me,” Erwin argued, deadpanned stare reflecting onto the smug hellhound.
“Isn’t that the point? Hange said that’s what a Sugar Daddy does.”
The room turned deadly quietly for a handful of seconds, causing Levi to crack an eye open to peer at the reaper. Erwin’s mouth had gone slack, affronted in ways Levi had never witnessed before.
Chuffing at the reaper’s pitiful display, Levi tapped his fingers against Erwin’s chin to close his mouth. “If it makes you feel better, I barely understood her reference.”
“I’m starting to think I should’ve gotten a room with one bed to avoid this discussion entirely. Then we would have no choice but to abide by the trope. That’s the rule.”
It was Levi’s turn to look confused. “What are you talking about?”
“A trope. You know? One bed, enemies to lovers? Nana has a book club she hosts with a few co-workers and Mike usually fills me in on it. He’s normally stuck supplying the appetizers for their meetings.”
“I’m so confused.”
Erwin let out another laugh, boyish and liberating as if they were back at the cabin and not in a hotel room. “I’ll have him introduce it to you.”
“Please don’t. That feels like a punishment—oofph! Oi!” Eyes snapping open, Levi leveled Erwin with a petulant frown, “What do you think you’re doing?”
The reaper beamed down at him from where he caged Levi in with his body, splayed over the top of him with his bulk and forearms propped on either side of his head.
“Smothering you.”
“Damn right—you’re heavy as fuck.”
“I am not. You’re just small.”
“And you smell like a sandwich.”
Erwin scoffed at Levi’s poor humor. “Oh, I smell like my dinner? Shocker. You should speak to me nicer, you know. I could just keep you here all night like this.”
Levi flashed a toothy grin, narrowing his eyes in a challenge. “I will knee you in the dick if you don’t get off."
The man laughed again, bright and unaffected by the meaningless threat. Levi’s own lips quirked further as he savored the vibration through his chest, thinking that despite not finding confirmation from Romero, it was still a good day.
Laughter dying, Erwin fixed him with that shimmering stare, eyes drinking him in with a scrutiny that had Levi’s heart thumping. There wasn’t much warning, though it was redundant for one to be needed with the way the air was electrified around them. Erwin dipped his head with an agonizing slowness as he closed the distance, barring Levi into a melding kiss.
Swinging his arms around Erwin’s neck, he unlocked his mouth allowing him to take advantage of the entrance and push him further into the mattress. Teeth nibbled on his lips before diving back in, enveloping Levi in warmth and constant presser that left him secure despite feeling like he was falling from a mountain top. He absorbed all the affection being poured into him, sucking and nipping in return, and when they finally separated, Levi was rewarded with Erwin’s rosy mouth planting a kiss on his nose.
His fingers sifted through Levi’s hair, trailing the movement with his eyes before meeting Levi’s again. “I like your smart mouth when you’re kissing me.”
Levi couldn’t stop the monumental eyeroll at Erwin’s husky voice. “If that’s your pillow talk, it needs some work. Sounds like you don’t like my smart mouth when it’s talking.”
“Not when you’re bully me. It’s problematic.”
“On your sensitive pride? Then don’t do dumb things to get bullied over—”
Erwin cut him off with another kiss and Levi couldn’t be upset over it. Closing his eyes, he leaned up into it, feeling fulfilled and wanted, despite Erwin’s dumb smirk against him. He would let the man have his victory this time. It wasn’t like Levi was getting the raw end of the deal.
The kiss was softer, tranquilizing him in a way that had his brain firing with bursts, each touch stealing his focus. Hands slipping beneath his shirt and raking it up his chest. Fingers counting ribs on their way down and back again. His ministrations lifted from Levi’s mouth, travelling down his throat where he began nipping along the column, fueling the burning between the shifter’s legs. His whole body teemed with the attention, coming alive with flushed cheeks and hardening erection.
It wasn’t only him, either, as he felt Erwin grind his hips experimentally, bulge rubbing against his thighs. A jolt of electricity zipped up his spine causing Levi to arch and lean his head back, where Erwin sucked at a spot along his collarbone. His free hand, not holding him up, flowed into the curve of Levi’s spine, holding him up against his chest like he wanted them to be impossibly closer.
“Fuck, Levi,” he whispered into his ear. “You’re trouble.”
“How so?” he asked, voice husky already from the ministrations. He opened his eyes and was rewarded with the perfect dose of Erwin’s mused hair clenched between his fingers. He hadn’t even realized he was gripping the reaper so tightly.
“I could get addicted to this.”
“Stop talking and kiss me,” he retorted, both out of embarrassment for him and Erwin. He was never much of a talker for sex, but seeing the adoration in Erwin’s cornflower gaze made him heat up like a furnace.
“Aw, don’t like compliments, even during this?” he smirked as he dipped to Levi’s ear again and tugged his earlobe between his teeth. “But you’re so beautiful when you’re hot and bothered.”
Levi swallowed, face turning to magma. “Shut up—uh.” Erwin’s wandering hand cut him off as it lathered Levi’s erection with teasing contact.
“Such pretty sounds too.”
Not willing to risk encouraging Erwin’s dirty talk, he snarled and yanked the reaper into another searing kiss, skipping the soft stage and making his demands clear. There was no more talking, just heavy breathing that caused their bubble to feel humid with thickening need. Hips bucking up into Erwin, Levi clawed at his shirt until it was off, with his own following suit in the mess of limbs.
The skin-on-skin contact sent Levi’s brain into another frenzy of want as he looped his arms around Erwin’s neck, tugging him back into a kiss until the reaper stopped moving for a split second. Sensing the pause, Levi stilled, plopping onto the mattress to stare up at him. Though his arms were slack, he kept them locked around Erwin’s neck.
“You’re killing me here, Levi.”
“Your definition of killing is very different than mine. And that’s concerning if you call yourself a reaper.”
“Ok, smartass. I think you know what I mean.”
“Maybe.” Levi moved his hips against him again, dragging the motion out slowly.
Erwin groaned as he dropped his forehead to Levi’s chest, accepting the friction as his hand clenched around Levi’s thigh, pinning it at his waist. “We should probably stop here.”
Levi’s hips froze before he shrugged his shoulder up, urging the man to look at him. “What? You’re joking right?”
Erwin sighed, sitting up as he anchored Levi with a disgruntled frown. “Don’t get me wrong. I want nothing more than to continue, but I think at some point ethics comes into play.”
“Ethics,” Levi parroted hollowly, then the prior heat he felt boiling under his skin from Erwin’s groping turned deadly. “The fuck are you talking about? I swear to devils, if this is some fucked up crisis about me being a shifter and bestiality—we’re going to have a problem because for you to assume that it’d mean you’re weighing my animal form over my human, and I’ll tell you right now you can shove that---”
“Levi—Levi, it’s not that at all.”
“It’s not? Because if it is—”
“No!” he interrupted. Planting a placating kiss to Levi, he pressed his forehead to his, shaking it in a negative. “No. Trust me. I know that regardless of what form you take, you’re fully in control and not reduced to an actual animal. I've heard it enough times from wolvens that they hate having that stigma against them.”
“Then what are you talking about, because you’re starting to piss me off.”
Erwin chuffed, leaning up. “So grumpy. For your information, I’m concerned with your standing as my ward under WMC. I’d be taking advantage of you and your position if we continued.”
“Oh, this again?”
The reaper continued, frown deepening as he tried to justify his reasoning, “I think it’d be better if we waited until your probation was over. That way you were free to decide how we proceed.”
“We already discussed this. We agreed it was a farce for WMC and Shadis until I wasn’t monitored any longer. But between us, so long as you’re not a dick, we’ll treat each other equally.”
Erwin’s discontentment didn’t let up. “I’d still be taking advantage of you. It doesn't negate the imbalance. I’m just saying, taking it further should probably wait.”
“You’re being stupid if you think we're breaking up for whatever chivalry argument you're trying to make.”
“What? Wait, so you do want to be together?”
Levi shook his head, wondering how the reaper renowned for his cleverness could be so blind. “Have I not made that obvious?”
“I didn’t want to assume—”
“Yes, we’re staying together, and I already told you that if I want something, you should take my word for it. Telling me I don’t or making decisions based on what WMC dictates is you literally favoring that imbalance. You’re just playing into their role.”
“That’s not—Hold on. That’s—Ok. When did you become a lawyer?”
“What?” Levi unraveled his arms from his neck to cross over his chest. “Not used to someone out-arguing you?”
“It’s a rare occurrence,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in irritation. “Is that how you really feel?”
“How many times do I have to say it? We play pretend for those assholes, but when it’s just us, then it’s just us.”
“Eloquent.”
“Fuck you. I never claimed to be a poet.”
“But you whisper sweet nothings all the time,” Erwin cooed, smirk playing across his lips. “And I do love it when you recite for me.”
“Well, it won’t happen again if you keep denying what we both want.” They were already in deep, Levi knew that. Judging by the dilated pupils staring back, he suspected he just offered Erwin the shovel and he was going to take him up on it.
Devils, he hoped so. He couldn’t spell it out any clearer how much he wanted this man.
“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?” Erwin kept his eyes locked on Levi’s as he bestowed a gentle kiss on his chest. “Tell me if you change your mind?” Another on his ribs, hands dragging down the path and connecting the dots. “Tell me if it’s too much?” A wet kiss to his hipbone, right above the waistline of his pants.
Levi swallowed, words starting to fail him. “Yeah.” He breathed.
Erwin’s fingers toyed with his trouser button, lifting his head to give a sly grin. “And you’ll be good for me? Recite something sweet?”
The zipper sounded like a gunshot as it was dragged down. “What? Now?”
“Mhm,” Erwin hummed, licking at each inch of exposed flesh while dragging the pants down his legs. Once the boxers followed and Levi was entirely nude, Erwin crawled up his body, admiring his composition with kisses, licks, and nips until he buried himself in Levi’s neck. “Recite for me.”
Levi swallowed again, tongue darting to lap at his lips as his brain sputtered, trying to recall unconnected passages that fit the moment. All the while, Erwin was helping himself to his body, caressing his stomach, opening his legs up, grinding his still clothed cock against Levi. Sucking and biting, Levi was sure there were going to be marks, but judging by how his nails dug into Erwin’s naked back, he suspected he wouldn’t be the only one.
“Did you force yourself on me, or I on you?" he recited, adjusting the words as best he could with his breathy gasps. “I’ve always admitted I was ruled by my passions.”
Erwin hummed his satisfaction, voice husky and raspy. “So good. Keep going.”
Levi wanted to complain. Tell the reaper he wasn’t reciting passages for entertainment, but he couldn’t mock him. Not when his entire body was being worshipped and groped, almost reaching painful levels of hardness. He said the next part in Latin, his faint accent rolling the consonants a bit forceful than he meant.
“Sola via resistendi temptationi est ei cedere.”
There was a click of plastic and Levi opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. Tilting his head, he saw Erwin with a bottle in hand, dripping the contents on his fingers.
“Is that lube? Did you fucking plan for this?”
Erwin raised a brow, tossing the bottle to the side and replaced his bulk over Levi. He then noticed the man was naked and he had to seriously contemplate how much he was missing during Erwin’s attention.
“Since our conversation in the snow, I figured it’d best to be prepared. You have a habit of being spontaneous and keeping your cards close to your chest.” He dove down and bit Levi’s lower lip, hard enough to cause Levi to flinch. Erwin was certainly aiming to leave marks. “Turn over and get on your knees.”
Any smart retort died right there as Levi obeyed, achingly hard and growing desperate.
“Give me an arch,” he pressed into Levi’s spine, coaxing him down. “Thereee you go.”
Levi internally preened, flinched when he felt a playful bite on his ass cheek, and glared over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to give Erwin a warning to stop teasing but his words dissolved into an embarrassing noise as a finger slowly entered him. Unable to resist the shudder, he arched his back further and grinded back onto his finger. It had been so fucking long since he had this and he felt himself falling apart far too soon.
“Recite, Levi,” Erwin ordered, then laved the flat of his tongue between his cheeks to the small of his back.
Levi groaned, tilting forward at the overstimulated sensation, but Erwin’s free hand gripped his waist to hold him still.
“Recite. I want to hear you fall apart, love.”
A warm dribble of fluid touched his rim where the finger continued to drag in and out. The temperature was more welcoming than the cooler lube, even as a second finger used the spit to add to his hole.
“--it is because I am quite insane — quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs...” The fingers curled into that sweet spot making him see stars. “Hnnn—”
His hips stuttered forward as the fingers twisted and pulled, teasing at an agonizing pace. Levi folded on his elbows, hanging his head between his shoulders as his toes curled. “There. Keep going.”
Erwin hummed, fingers pistoning in and out as he lathered the backs of his thigh and hips with bites and kisses. “Keep reciting or I’ll stop.”
Fucking bastard. Levi felt his mind struggling to conjuring anything other than color in that moment, but he pulled every quote that came to mind to appease the reaper. To keep him going and not stop as Levi soared higher. His dick wasn’t even touched once since they started, and he could feel it weeping on the comforter below.
“Oh—” he started which immediately turned into a moan. “Oh, he did look like a deity – the perfect balance... of danger and ch-charm—Fuck, Erwin!” Why did his fingers have to be so thick?
“Yes, love?”
“I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum...” he drawled.
“Already?” The teasing was dripping in his baritone.
“Fuck...” The fingers ground deeper into Levi, the other hand forcing his hips to gyrate against them. “God—Erwin—”
“Praying when we just started? Cum on my fingers then.” The pace turned merciless and just as Levi reached for his cock, Erwin batted it away. “Just my fingers. And finish your verse.”
“Wh-what?”
The fingers stopped and Levi mourned the loss with a groan.
“The perfect balance of danger and charm,” Erwin reminded, and how the fuck was he able to think so clearly?
“The perfect balance of danger and charm,” Levi repeated and instantly rewarded with the pace resuming. The tension followed and started to build in his gut, causing him to clench on the fingers and let out a breathy moan. “Ah—shit... he was-- at the same time fascinating... and—and inaccessible—Erwin! Hnn—”
Unable to complete the verse, the deep thrust caused him to release onto the bedding beneath him, face tinted red while Erwin let him ride out his orgasm with his hand falling back into a steadier, dying pace. The slowness brought him down gently, keeping him turned on but not vacant.
Slumping against the bed once the fingers were removed, Levi couldn’t deny that was the most relaxed he felt in a long time. He could hear Erwin squirting lube onto something other than Levi and he had a feeling he knew what it was, causing his cheeks to flame brighter. But he didn’t want to move yet, bones turned into liquid. The briefest glance at Erwin’s naked figure hinted that the man wasn’t small, but Levi couldn’t churn up any hesitation at the possible stretch and discomfort he was about to feel.
“Are you ok, love?” Erwin asked from above him. The fact he let his dick slide between Levi’s ass as he leaned over sent chills breaking out across Levi’s skin. “You’ll let me know if it gets too much, right?”
Levi nodded, arching his knees under him to present himself easier while his hands fisted the pillow. Erwin slipped his cock inside his rim, pausing where they connected before inching in at a crawling pace. Each and every part of his dick vibrated across Levi’s core as he felt everything in that agonizing motion. The reaper let out a stifling groan into Levi’s back, commenting how tight he was before he slid in the last couple inches in one fluid motion.
Not expecting him to be that far from fully inside, Levi jerked and buried his forehead into the pillow, clenching his eyes shut. “Shit, you’re fucking... bigger than I thought.”
“Are you ok?”
“Fine,” Levi forced his lungs to exhale. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
“Gods, your demanding, even in this position.”
“You like it.”
Erwin hummed, thrusting carefully to test Levi’s reaction, thick cock slipping in and out as each motion pushed deeper and harder. The speed picked up shortly after and Levi realized teasing Erwin when he was built like that was probably spelling out trouble for him. Before he knew it, the hotel room was filled with fleshy claps and the bouncing of the headboard on the wall. The comforter beneath Levi was bunched and wrinkled, tearing under his nails that elongated as his inner power fluctuated in pleasure.
“Fuucckk—” he moaned, being pounded into recklessly. Erwin’s own groans added to his, creating a cacophony of erotic din around them. “Please—don’t stop. Erwin—”
“You’re so good, Levi.” His sweaty chest covered Levi’s back pulling him up to his knees and taking him by surprise at the new angle. He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head as Erwin’s hands groped at his front, one holding his jaw tilted up to gnaw at his neck. “So good. Feel so fucking good.”
Levi was melting as he dug his nails into Erwin’s hip simpering as he bounced into the thrusts, encouraging the reaper to go harder.
“Recite, Levi. Finish it for me.”
“Ca-can’t...” his voice sounded so wrecked bouncing off the walls, even to himself.
“Do it for me, love,” he whispered hot breath into Levi’s ear. Then pulled out, flipped Levi onto his back and thrust back in. “Be good for me.”
And fuck, Levi was gone for him in that moment as Erwin started pounding back into him, fucking him into the mattress with such fervor that only a Supra could match. His mouth covered Levi’s swallowing his moans before pulling away so he could talk.
“Demonstrates... demonstrated flawless--I... hnnn... and possessing such strength of character...”
“You’re so beautiful getting fucked and speaking poetry,” Erwin grinned wickedly, adjusting his angle and hips as if trying to make Levi lose his train of thought on purpose.
The arrogant bastard. He was going to kill him. As soon as he finished, Levi would murder him and leave his body for a different investigation. But until then, all he could do was try to rise to the challenge. The more he spoke, the darker those pits in Erwin’s eyes swallowed the blue, meaning he wasn’t infallible to Levi’s wit as he expected. He’d make the reaper fall apart first.
Hooking his legs around Erwin, he twisted them around using his natural strength and catching the reaper off guard as he straddled him. Taking the pace in his control, Levi bounced quickly, breath hitching as he raked his fingers over Erwin’s chest.
“You’re making me feel so so good,” he murmured, staring right into Erwin’s widened eyes as he grinding onto him. Not holding back, he picked up where he left off, determined to make Erwin regret it. “... Distant because of his... demonstrated flawlessness. And. That he was dismaying at the same time.”
“Yes, louder, Levi. I want you louder,” he demanded thrusting his hips to meet his bounces.
“Hnn... Utterly attractive in an—enticing. Fuck—Erwin.”
“Say my name... Keep going, keep going.”
It wasn't going to work, not with Erwin's feverish pace pounding into him like that.
“Enticing, and—I’m going to cum...”
“Not until you finish it.”
“And...no--can't-” Erwin’s hands wrapped around his back, pulling them flush together as he fucked into him with all his strength. “Enticing and for-forbidden wa-ay—Erwin!”
His voice broke as he was pushed over the edge of his second orgasm, while Erwin poured moans into his ear like honey, hips stuttering against him as he released inside. “Levi—fuuck...”
Levi slumped into a puddle against the reaper, twitching as they came down from their high and the tension melted from Erwin’s arms. Idly, as they caught their breath, his fingers traced designs into Levi’s back while he stayed pillowed against his chest. Neither were in a rush to move, simply trying to suck in all the oxygen the room had to offer.
His heart felt like a kickdrum in his chest, and he hummed in contentment against Erwin. “Still wanting to wait a year to do this?”
“No.” His arms secured themselves around Levi as if afraid he would flee from his embrace. “No. It’s too late. Can’t take back.”
“Tch. Says you. Maybe I wasn’t impressed by it and want to hold off.”
“Don’t tease,” he nipped at Levi’s shoulder.
“For not being a shifter, you bite a lot.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. Making an observation.”
“Good.” He planted a kiss to the top of his head. They settled in the afterglow, locked in a lazy embrace before Erwin broke the peace. “I uh... I think we can agree we may have ruined this bed.”
“I’m sure it’ll be the cheapest thing we’ve damaged that needs to be replaced.”
“I’m not worried about the hotel charging me. I was merely making my own observation. It just goes to say that we’ll be staying in the other bed together now.”
For having such mind-blowing sex, Levi didn’t think Erwin would still be on that stupid subject of sharing a bed. Rolling his eyes, he buried his forehead between the reaper's pecs while sighing, “You’re a tragedy, Smith.”
***
Leather-clad fingers pulled the duffle bag from the back seat to the center console, unzipping it and prying open the inner pocket.
“Grab me some napkins in the glove compartment,” he motioned to the passenger who opened it and pulled out a wad. Accepting the hodgepodge of napkins, he bundled the glass container inside and tucked the vial safely into the pocket. “You have the other half, right?”
The passenger lifted his gaze from the contents of the duffle and patted his pocket where the ziplock was. “Got it here.”
“Great,” he praised, grin splitting his lips. He set the bag on the back floorboard and twisted around in his seat to turn on the ignition. His glasses reflected from the warehouse’s neon sign as they pulled away and he hit the call button on his phone. “This is going to get fun.”
Notes:
It’s been a stupidly stupid, stressful week. But the chapter is here! Made it in time!
Quotes recited are from Elizabeth Taylor, Oscar Wilde, Jane Eyre, and Simona Panova.
Anyway! Thank you all for all the support and wonderful kudo and comments! They do keep me motivated to post regularly, especially when everything else seems to be going so wrong. 😊 So, thank you!! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 30: Breaking Ranks
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
Levi was not impressed with the WMC extension facility, not that anyone was going to ask his opinion. Lowly wolven with a record that he was, he supposed the snubbing wasn't unexpected. Upon checking in at the front desk, he was either dismissed entirely or given cautionary stares. Erwin’s hand remained steady on his nape as they were directed to a private room to wait for Clint’s prior appointment to finish up, meaning they got the opportunity to see a little more of the outdated government building.
The waiting room smelled faintly of old coffee and laminate cleaner, and the fluorescent lights casted a milky brightness with dead flies stuck in the plastic covering, probably never cleaned out since the facility was constructed. Chairs with muted blue cushions lined the walls in uneven symmetry, and a magazine rack held a collection of outdated pamphlets: Healing After Long-Term Shelter Stays, Know Your Wolven Rights, and Coping with a Sponsor's Death. A couple of children magazines were on the side table with find-it puzzles, and Levi cringed internally thinking of kids being exposed to WMC for whatever reasons.
He shifted in his seat impatiently, crossing and uncrossing his legs. His hands clenched in his lap, fingers working at the skin around his thumb. Next to him, Erwin sat with the usual upright posture, elbows on the rests of the chair, while staring at the scuff marks on the floor distractedly.
Neither of them had spoken much on the drive over except for a flimsy explanation for Levi’s suspension, layered with possible excuses and half-truth answers for probing inquiries. There wasn’t much room for planning when they had no basis for what was reported to their caseworker to begin with.
“How’s your weather, Levi?”
The shifter resisted glaring at the man, knowing he was not deserving of Levi's worked-up frustrations. Instead, he rubbed at the tattoo on his inner arm, savoring the cooling sensation that hadn’t seemed to let up since their night at the hotel. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but reminding him of entering a cool, dark area after hours of blinding hot sun exposure. Relieving and soothing. He wondered if Erwin was sending calming intent through it or if it was something else entirely.
“Started off sunny,” he muttered with waspish huff. “Till you reminded me of this damn meeting. Now I feel overcast and windy. Standing at the precipice of a storm.”
The corner of Erwin’s lip teased upward as he reached to give Levi’s hand a comforting squeeze. “If this was a serious issue with WMC, we would’ve been called in much sooner than a couple of weeks after the incident.”
“You saying they didn’t hold off for some bureaucratic paperwork and that they’ll view my suspension as only a minor setback?” he cocked a brow.
“Pretty much.”
Levi couldn’t hold back his pricky mood as he scowled at the self-assured reaper. “I can’t tell if you’re being optimistic or you’re just a conniving bastard whose already calculated all the possibilities.”
“Can’t it be both?” He added a wink for flourish.
"Tch." Despite his paranoia, and sick feeling in his stomach that the meeting would go over poorly, he conceded to Erwin's efforts to lighten the mood. Or he at least was going to try.
The door clicked open, cutting them off as they turned their shared attention to the stranger. The man that stepped in was unassuming, mid-forties, sandy clean-cut hair, and clipboard in hand. His gaze traveled over them individually, not revealing any ill thoughts if he harbored them.
“Erwin Smith? Levi?”
They both stood, though Levi did so with significantly more reluctance. It didn't appear to dissuade the man who offered a smile that was practiced. Not unfriendly, just well-worn. “I'm Clint Jennings. It’s nice to finally put names to faces after our phone calls.”
“Like wise,” the reaper replied curtly. Erwin shook the offered hand which was then extended to Levi who took it after a fleeting moment of hesitation.
Clint paid no attention to the grim’s caution in being included and pushed on. “I’ll be talking with you both today about what occurred, so please come into my humble abode.”
The office was small but more lived in than the waiting room. A soft lamp glowed in one corner, and a box of tissues sat within easy reach. Two chairs faced a plain desk and beside the closed laptop were little trinkets of personalization. Clint took a seat opposite them, his pen already uncapped.
"I try to keep the scent in here as neutralized as possible," he started, directing his statement to Levi alone. "If it's too much, I can turn on the fan to help dilute it for you."
Blindsided by the consideration from someone other than Erwin and his friends, Levi stared for a second too long before snapping back to himself and waving a hand. "I'm fine. Nothing's offensive in here."
"I'm glad to hear it. So," he said after they settled in, "I understand this isn’t where either of you wanted to be today, but I appreciate you showing up.”
Erwin nodded with a cordial, “Of course” while Levi gave a noncommittal grunt.
Clint glanced at his notes, then up at them. “From the report, you were placed on administrative suspension after an incident during a field investigation. I'd like to hear in your own words, Levi, what happened.”
There was a pause.
Levi shot a glance at Erwin, wondering if he heard correctly. When Erwin gave a subtle nod, Levi sighed, then leaned back in the chair, a hint of reluctance leaked into his posture. He really hadn't anticipated doing most of the talking, especially with a WMC representative of all people. This should have been Erwin's gig. He was the talker.
“It started with the crime scene of a murdered woman. At the stage theater in Tacoma.”
Clint wrote something down, silently encouraging him to go on at his own pace. It was appreciative, yet frustrating. Levi's poor social skills, especially with someone who held a large sway in his future, was distressing enough, but he powered through.
“It was my first homicide scene. The victim shared strong resemblances to someone I knew years ago and,” he gave a terse shrug, “I got overwhelmed by it. Had an anxiety attack.”
Erwin spoke before Clint could respond or fire another question, graciously buying Levi a bit of time to gather his thoughts. “Agents are commonly feathered into field work, majority starting while enrolled in the academy. Levi has not had that introduction prior to signing GSIS’ wolven probational clause which is why it was a suspension rather than further punishment.”
Clint paused in his writing, looking up again. “Was this not considered by your superiors prior to approving his field access? I assumed they would’ve assigned Levi to administration work for his probation rather than working with an active homicide unit. Throwing someone in the deep end without knowing how to swim comes across as sabotage.”
Levi hesitated to answer, not sure what to reveal or how to take Clint's summary. Either the man really was on their side, or he was fantastic at playing both ends of the field.
Erwin ran a hand down the front of his suit, straightening non-existent wrinkles before lacing his fingers together. “That is partially due to myself and a standing agreement. Our director approved Levi’s use of the policy under the stipulation that I always keep him at my side. I’m currently on an active contract pertaining to a prioritized case that isn’t feasible to step away from. It’s been... an unconventional situation for everyone, as you can see.”
The lull that followed wasn’t empty but weighted. Clint didn’t rush to fill it, choosing to let it settle.
Then, “So you believe moving forward, you’ll be able to mitigate a repeat?”
“Yes,” Erwin said simply.
Clint nodded, writing again. “All right. Let’s take it from the beginning. I want to make sure I understand the full picture.”
For the next 20 minutes, they took turns explaining the situation and answering Clint’s questions, being selective about the details regarding the case to avoid classified information. Whenever Levi got hung up on a question, he turned to Erwin who filled it in with little to no delay, as if the answers were right there the entire time. The man probably had some flow chart in his mind, following possibilities and outcomes based on which little box he replied with.
Devils, his brain was probably like a library or dull filing room, Levi mused.
Clint was amicable and polite during the discussion, giving Levi his full attention and consideration. The exchange was... mollifying. Clint even surprised them both when he agreed to omit certain details from the report to avoid specific levels of the WMC chain of command from growing suspicious. Erwin and Levi made it no secret that they were relieved from that, which Clint confirmed he knew how overbearing the organization could be, especially with the rare cases regarding wolven fighters. He wanted them to succeed and not be hindered by the same organization that was meant to aid them.
It was when Clint was wrapping up the discussion, reviewing regulations and reminding them of their quarterly status reports, when Erwin’s phone began to vibrate. He slipped it from the pocket, eyeing the name on the screen before silencing it. Levi was close enough to spot Mike’s face in the icon, knowing Erwin would call him back once the meeting was finished. But no sooner did his fingers retreat from the pocket did the phone go off once again.
Clint paused, gaze falling to Erwin’s lap. “Do you need to take that?”
Releasing an exasperated huff, Erwin reluctantly pulled the phone out again and pushed to his feet. “Please excuse me. I’ll only be a minute.”
A reassuring quirk of his lips followed the hand on Levi’s shoulder as he stepped over his legs to walk out of the room. Levi directed his hearing as much as he could toward the door while Clint made an offhanded joke, shuffling the papers. It went unanswered as Levi listened to Erwin’s phone call, muffled voice asking Mike to repeat what he was saying as he was breaking up. Then, after three following ‘hello’s?’ which were answered with silence, the door to the office opened as the reaper returned, troubled frown creasing his features.
“Everything ok?” Clint asked.
“Call dropped,” he replied, finding his spot beside Levi. “I’ll call him when we finish here.”
Clint shook his head. “It’s this building, I swear, it’s like a dead zone for most of our phone services. Always frustrating. Anyway, we’re about finished here. I just wanted to let you know what to expect if there’s any follow-up necessary after this report is reviewed by my supervisor.”
Levi gestured for Clint to continue, sensing Erwin was mildly distracted. The official went over the best- and worst-case scenarios, including if SRC wanted to conduct their own questioning or psych evaluation on Levi. He absorbed as much as he could but regrettably failed to retain the bulk when a text came through Erwin’s phone that had color draining from the reaper’s face. The man stared at it for five drawn out seconds, expression cementing into an unreadable mask. Clint didn't seem to notice their distraction, as he typed something into his laptop, but Levi felt the unease return and his hackles rise.
Meeting Levi’s gaze, Erwin passed the phone over for the shifter to read while he interrupted Clint with a forced smile. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but are you able to send an email with the details?”
Levi accepted the phone, eyes skimming the brief three worded message which instantly sent his heart lurching into his throat.
Mike
>They’re coming. Run
“I can email you, certainly,” Clint drawled tentatively, sensing the atmospheric shift in the room. “I’ll give you a call if something comes up, but as far as I can tell, you won’t need to return until the scheduled quarterly appointment.”
“Fantastic,” Erwin stood up and offered his hand to Levi without looking. “We appreciate you helping us. It’s refreshing to work with unbiased WMC employees after what we’ve dealt with thus far.”
“Happy to help.” He stood and shook his and Levi’s hand. “Please take care and thank you for all you do with GSIS. I look forward to our next meeting.”
Erwin was already guiding Levi to the door, pushing against his lower back before Clint finished what he was saying. Levi handed him the phone which he slipped into his jacket, swiveling his head back and forth as they made a beeline for the front doors of the building.
“What’s going on? Who’s they?” Levi inquired, keeping his volume low so only Erwin could hear.
“I don’t know,” his bleak response murmured, pushing the double doors open and ignoring the front desk’s polite goodbye.
As soon as they were on the sidewalk, the phone was out of his blazer, but his other hand stayed pinned on Levi’s back, as if afraid he would disappear if he lost contact. Right as he unlocked the device, his thumb hovering over the callback button for Mike, he froze causing Levi to echo the pause mid-step. Brows dipping, Levi stared up at Erwin whose gaze was darting along the dirty slush covered street, not paying attention to cars or pedestrians but searching for something else. Taking a curious scan as well, Levi soon realized what it was that had Erwin halt so suddenly.
Sirens.
And they were growing louder.
“Son of--come on, this way--hurry.”
Levi was immediately ushered toward an alleyway, stride stretching into a pace that toyed with a jog to keep up with the long-legged reaper. Shooting a glance over his shoulder at the road where their vehicle was, Levi fought down the urge to start running, feeling the bitter adrenaline dump that lifted his fur in that familiar sensation of being hunted.
“Mike—what’s going on?” Erwin demanded, baritone harsh and unyielding as he spoke into the device.
The sirens were overlapping notes as more vehicles approached their street, and Levi knew they were too close if Erwin could pick it up with his less sensitive hearing.
“I should be asking you two that!” was Mike’s urgent whisper that Levi barely picked up. Wherever the wolven was at, he didn’t want to be overheard speaking to them. “Where are you? Better have your asses on the move!”
“We’re working on it but need a bigger picture here, mate. What’s going on?”
“You both are suspected of murder and that's putting it mildly.”
Levi nearly stumbled at that, but Erwin pushed him through it, grabbing his elbow to keep him from falling. They reached the end of the alley and started down the pavement of the following block, heads ducked and eyes on a swivel.
“There was evidence on the body—unmistakable evidence, Erwin!”
“We didn’t do anything,” Erwin snapped, pushing Levi into another alley, narrowly avoiding the lowered steel ladder of a fire escape. The sirens were mere streets away with the faint thud of rotors in the air, growing closer and rattling the shop windows beside them. “Are you fucking kidding me?--Shadis sent a bird?”
“Not Shadis—SRC—”
“What?”
“I’m telling you—The evidence is fucking damning. I know you two didn’t do this shit—I know. But you have to get out of here. SRC and an outside GSIS unit were sent to bring you two in.”
“Gods dammit...” Erwin took a breath. “All right. We’ll try to stay ahead of them.”
“Try your fucking best. You know how SRC works. We’ll do whatever we can to figure this shit out, but you already know our hands are tied from here on. We’ll still do what we can under the radar, so make sure you two aren’t caught to buy us some time.”
“I get it. We’ll try to reach out when we can.”
“Take care of yourselves--for fuck’s sake. And don’t make things worse!”
Erwin hung up just as the helicopter whirls thudded closer now, likely circling to check surrounding streets from the WMC building. A block away they could see sleet and stray litter scatter across the street like feathers in a storm.
“The hell is going on? What murder?” Levi barked as they pressed against the building, police sirens blaring nearby. At any moment, he was sure one would be speeding past them. “What evidence? We didn’t do shit!”
“I don’t know,” Erwin conceded gravely, tearing his eyes away from the street between the buildings to pin Levi in place. His hands anchored onto Levi’s shoulders where he squeezed, not painful but grounding as he bent to hold his gaze. “I need you to listen carefully to me, Levi. Whatever happens next: Do. Not. Shift. You cannot turn into your grim form, under any circumstances. Understand?”
“Erwin, if something—”
“No, Levi. Repeat it.”
Swallowing his protests, he gritted his teeth. “I won’t shift, no matter what.”
Erwin stared at him a second longer, not indicating whether he was pleased by Levi’s faux promise or not. Instead, he added with all the severity of a funeral toll, “If SRC and GSIS are involved, they have a right to kill on contact any wolven who shifts. They’ll have reapers on their force to bring us in, so don’t, under any circumstances, give them cause for it.”
Having nothing else to add, the severity of their situation plainly laid out for him so a pup would understand, Levi nodded. Erwin held his gaze a precious moment longer before leaning in to kiss his sweaty forehead as the helicopter’s whirls grew faint.
“They’ll be circling around any minute, let’s go.”
They were running now. Down alleyways and along streets, ducking behind rubbish bins when police veered by with their flashing lights. The streets were being blocked off, people ushered to stay inside as the perimeter gradually took shape to cage them in.
Running down another alley, the claustrophobic walls around them allowed the view at the end to gradually expand into another road, where downtown transitioned into quaint shopping districts. Erwin hesitated to choose a direction just as Levi’s peripheral spotted three black vehicles roaring in their direction.
And they were close. Too close.
“Get down!” Erwin dragged Levi against a parked car, which did nothing for how exposed the shifter felt out in the open.
Crouched with his back to the vehicle, he watched over Erwin’s shoulder as the lights flashed across the brownstone walls, blaring a horn to divert anyone from getting in their way. As soon as the vehicles were 50 yards past, Erwin hauled Levi up with him as they stumbled away to a parking lot across the nearest intersection.
It was a long run, Levi admitted. When they were out in the great wide open with routes leading to them from various directions, he felt embarrassingly naked. What was approximately 70 yards stretched like kilometers where the next available cover was the boxy painted transformers on the street corners or moving vehicles. The latter would do fuck all in way of hiding them if law enforcement turned on any of the roads.
Erwin led them to one of the car parks in front of a shopping district, very nearly being hit by a van turning at the intersection, which had Levi’s molars grinding together. They debated hiding inside one of the stores to wait it out, but Erwin shook his head and said that getting out before the perimeter was set was their best chance of escaping. Of course, outrunning the multi-mile radius on foot before it closed on them was not a feasible goal, even if Levi was able to shift and sprint. Not to mention, Erwin was against threatening a civilian in a car to drive them away. That van driver better feel lucky because Levi had differing opinions on that method. Personally, he believed that if they were being arrested for murder, threatening a soccer mom to get them out of town was the least of their worries, but differences of strategy aside, he could agree that it would make things worse.
“Fine. You going to throw a fit if I hotwire a car then, Blondie?” Levi snapped after rolling his eyes.
“You can do that?”
“Sure.” Levi truthfully was not entirely certain he remembered how. But he refused to admit that. Best to play the odds rather than waste time, especially if car theft was allowed on Erwin's moral bingo card. He would take what he could get.
Running along the parking lot, he chose one of the older models, avoiding anything that was manufactured recently as he knew how advanced the computer systems were. It was smarter to take his chances with something he was familiar with than fucking up something that relied on its electronics.
Finding the dented 90’s pick-up truck, he unraveled the scarf and wrapped it around his hand. Planting his feet firmly under him, he wavered with his fist clenched before snapping it forward with a rotation of his hip. His inhuman strength shattered the window, the commotion causing someone in the parking lot to scream, but he was already throwing the door open and diving to the floorboard to rip the panel off.
The roaring of the helicopter was circling around, volume increasing steadily like a war drum.
“Make it quick, Levi.”
“Now’s not the time to micromanage me,” Levi warned with his accent coming in thick through his anxiety. He didn't waste a glare on Erwin, too busy fumbling with the wire ends beneath the steering wheel column. The back of his head bumped against the pedal, and he cursed when a spark of electricity bit his fingertips from the red wire. “Fucking Furlan always did this shit...”
“If you can’t do it, we need to keep moving.”
“Shut up and give me a second.” Connecting the brown wire rewarded him with electronics turning on and radio flipping to some country station that died as soon as he dropped it in favor of the next color. No sooner did he try the new wire was he rewarded with the engine growling to life and the plumes of old exhaust mixing with the dirty street. After twisting a few wires together, Levi hauled himself off the floor ungracefully, clambering into the passenger seat as Erwin jumped in and shut the door. Wasting no time, he threw it in reverse and peeled out to the street, praising Levi as they picked a direction and drove.
“That was starting to worry me,” Erwin admitted as Levi sucked on his stinging finger.
“Yeah. I was sloppy. Been a while.”
“Still not a skill I’d imagine you to pick up.”
“Probably shouldn’t tell you about the pickpocketing then.”
“Maybe not when we’re currently avoiding arrest. No need to add to the already growing charges.” Erwin ducked his head to look at the sky through the windshield, trying to put eyes on the helicopter. They could hear it was close.
“Is it really that bad?” Levi asked as Erwin took a late turn after spotting police cruisers. Levi winced as his shoulder collided with the door. “We can’t just go in and explain the situation?”
Erwin’s features darkened as he shook his head. “If Mike is telling us to run, it means whatever they found is undeniable. He wouldn’t warn us otherwise, and the fact SRC is leading the arrest just goes to prove it. Right now, we’re currently holding the title of public enemy number 1.”
“Shit,” Levi breathed out.
“Shit’s right.”
The cellphone began to buzz in Erwin’s pocket, and he answered it without looking away from the road.
“Yeah?”
“Are you a fucking idiot?” the speaker from the cell phone screeched. “I can’t believe this. I fucking can’t—you’ve lost your goddamn mind, Smith!”
The voice cackled, sounding shocked and mad as if the guy was losing his own sanity over what was occurring. He probably wasn’t the only one, Levi mused, taking in the white-knuckled grip threatening to tear the steering wheel in half.
The stolen truck swerved around a slower car, jumping the concrete meridian into the opposite lane. The tires squeaked and slid as Erwin jerked it back to the proper side of the road, just missing a sedan blaring their horn. Levi seized the door handle and his locked seatbelt that was trying to choke the life out of him, praying to whatever deity he didn’t meet his end in a foolish car crash. Any smart complaint he had for Erwin to take it easy was swallowed as soon as he noticed the chopper flying parallel on their right flank.
That was not good.
“What are you going to do, hero? Outrun them? Got some master plan up your sleeve to fix this? Just fucking stop before someone gets hurt!”
After barreling through another intersection, Erwin had enough and latched onto the cellphone, rolling down the window to toss it out. Nile’s voice was still shrieking insults as it was engulfed by the wind as soon as it left the cab. The window rolled up, cutting them off from the outside world speeding past and dulling the sirens and helicopter.
“Don’t worry, Levi. We’ll figure this out,” Erwin insisted in a soto voice. His gaze darted at the rearview mirror for the umpteenth time, counting the now very present pursuers.
Levi had nothing to say, only held on as Erwin swerved onto a one-way street, followed by zigzagging onto another up a steep hill. The chasing vehicles were jammed at entry points when some agents refused to follow against the flow of traffic while others went around, willing to risk it. The daring maneuvering bought them ground which only increased when Erwin turned the truck into a dilapidated housing district.
Alleys and underpasses were splotched in various drab colors of tarpaulins and tents of homeless camps, while other abandoned apartment complexes stood out like skulls in a crypt, broken or boarded windows lifelessly staring at pedestrians. Levi considered the increased risks to the homeless population during a highspeed chase but couldn’t deny the morbid fact it would force the pursuing agents to take less risks. A clever, if selfish move. He was about to say as such to Erwin when an SUV lurched out of a side street and slammed into the bed of the truck.
The impact was like a detonation, lifting the tail end of the vehicle and spinning it around like a carnival ride. Levi’s neck whipped to the side, bouncing his head off the window and back the other way when the driver’s door crunched around a light pole. A second gunshot-like crack went off as the front airbags were deployed, while outside, tires screeched along with a hissing of a busted radiator from the assaulting SUV. A unit of engines rumbled somewhere in the cross streets, but that was background noise to the barking voices yelling at them to step out with their hands up.
Blinking the white splotches from his vision, he barely made out the agents standing with their vehicle as cover on Erwin’s side, which meant his was the only way to escape.
“Get out!” Erwin yelled at Levi through the daze, pushing him to open the door. “Go!”
Levi yanked free of the seatbelt and shoved the car open. Dizziness hovered like cotton candy in his head causing his legs to give out upon surging outside, slamming his knees onto the concrete with a curse. A chilling shift in the atmosphere lifted the hair on the back of his neck. He snapped his gaze beneath the car as Erwin followed out behind him only to spot the very recognizable wooden end of a scythe by the officer’s tire.
Shit, they were serious.
Fucking being hunted by a damn reaper!
“Let’s go!”
The scream broke his attention as he was jerked roughly to his feet and shoved forward.
“Run! Run!”
He didn’t have time to think as another car skirted around the corner of the block hurtling straight at them. Wishing he had his sword or gun, he started sprinting toward the buildings with Erwin’s shoes slapping the concrete behind him. Another charge of energy from behind and the reaper who had hit their truck was shoved into the median after Erwin sent a soul-charged push at them.
More cars were pulling up, blocking roads and alleys as the helicopter hovered from a distance, but it was the people on foot that Levi was most concerned about. More reapers were pouring from vehicles, some wolvens as well who dared to pursue the pair.
Don’t shift, don’t shift, he thought frantically as he heard the fastest of the Supras catching up behind them. Just run!
The quickest attacker caught Levi’s leg with the staff of the scythe, tripping him into an ugly stumble across pavement. Cracking his eyes open from a wince, the sky filled his visions along with the haunting scythe that was lifted above her head, ready to bring the dull edge down in a move Levi recognized to pin him. Having heard the crash on the asphalt, Erwin immediately spun on the balls of his feet, his own scythe coming to meet the agent’s in a clang of steel before it connected on the hellhound.
Luck didn't turn in his favor as the second closest officer was a wolven who lunged at Levi as soon as the grim was on his feet, throwing them both onto the ground a second time. Through the scuffle, he could see lycanthrope’s furred bulk bulging from its suit, splitting seems at he growled in Levi’s face to submit. Instincts and years of fighting rings surged within Levi, curling his lip back into a sneer in return, refusing to back down. He sent a warbling growl, warning the lycanthrope to back the fuck off which went unheeded. Don’t shift!
With no other options and struggling to get free, he thrust his hand to grasp at the lycanthrope’s neck, keeping the larger shifter from subduing him in a brutal hold of teeth. With his other hand, he reached down to the agent’s belt, unholstering the gun though it went unnoticed by the enraged wolven that tried to restrain Levi's arms. But like wolvens, the hellhound's enhanced strength was carried over in his human form, so it was a scramble to keep a hold of anything for long.
Changing tactics, the lycanthrope swung a taloned forepaw at him, grabbing a fistful of Levi’s face to sink nails into his cheek, but only enough to not puncture through his mouth. The grim screamed in rage and slammed the pistol into the wolven’s side, jamming it repeatedly until he knew a couple of ribs were broken by the distinct crack. Kicking the howling agent off, he fumbled to his feet and sprinted, breath coming in gasps from being winded after slamming into the ground and leaving the gun to clatter behind him. Evaded, no deadly force. A mantra he repeated to himself.
Erwin had successfully knocked out the reaper and dispelled his scythe, right as several other agents poured out of vehicles to take their place, chasing them into the web of structures. A gunshot barked out a round, followed by another that zipped near his head and punched into the brick wall. He was starting to mourn not holding onto the officer's pistol, though knew it was likely grounds to use deadly force if he had. In his panic, Levi darted onto an abandoned apartment complex and instantly regretted his decision when he faced back around and found himself alone.
“Erwin?!”
There was no answer aside from another gunshot elsewhere and boots stomping closer with gear rattling against Kevlar vests. Knowing there was little he could do that didn’t lead to him being arrested, Levi committed to his poor decision and surged deeper into the structure. If they could find a way out, they could reconvene again.
Checking apartments that still had doors on them, he eventually found one that was unlocked and dark inside with the boarded windows. Instinct warned him that staying there was essentially cornering himself, but the other part knew he couldn’t keep running without crossing another agent’s path. Committing to laying low and hoping for the best, he shut the door with a quiet snick and blindly waded into the apartment, blinking repeatedly until his sight adjusted. Passing a narrow hallway, he fumbled with a bedroom and shuffled inside, hearing shouting echoing in the corridors outside.
The bedroom was boarded up like the living room, knocked over furniture and garbage littering the moldy carpet from squatters. He was relieved to find that the plyboard was barely nailed into place and the window beyond was already shattered for an easier escape if he really had to get out. So, he wasn’t entombing himself completely by hiding. Still, he curled his fingers beneath the splintery wood and attempted to pry it further from the wall, catching a glimpse of overgrown shrubs outside.
Very promising.
Just then, there was a loud crash in the entry to the apartment, the door slamming into the wall and likely busting a hole in the plaster.
“I smell him in here!”
Fuck! Fucking wolvens!
It was bitter to realize he would miss when it was primarily humans that hunted his kind.
Knowing it was only a matter of time before they found what room he was hiding in, he renewed his efforts to break the wood from the window. Yanking and jerking it back and forth, the nails popped from the drywall one at time until he was granted with enough room to swivel the corner up and out of the way. The jagged glass that remained on the ledge like stalagmites promised pain, but hearing the boots coming down the hall made it clear he had no other options.
A final kick to the boards and he lurched through the opening, feeling the glass imbed into his abdomen as he wiggled over the ledge. The bedroom door busted open out of sight, and his struggles increased, feeling the sharp bite of shards break off into his skin. Someone grabbed at his belt and back of his shirt to wrench him backwards into the room, but the still partial plywood gave them little leverage. He kicked out at them, growling and letting out a pained cry as he came free and fell into the prickly shrub. The branches scratched his face and arms as the agents worked to break the board free from the wall and chase him down, too broad shouldered to follow through Levi's modest opening. It brought precious seconds to create distance.
Fuck—where’s Erwin?
Heaving to his feet, ignoring the white-hot pain and warm trickle of blood seeping into his waistband, he started running around the side of the building, avoiding the streets and sticking to the maze. The odds of outrunning all the agents were low already, but separated and bleeding—a devil’s damned crumb trail—Levi knew it was only a matter of time.
Don’t shift. Can’t shift.
He knew he could kill a good number of them if he fought. Leave a strew of bodies if it meant freedom, but that was a solution for a different part of his life. When he wasn’t in the system with government agents after him. When he was unknown and the world wasn’t reliant on CCTV and other technology to track him. When he was in a country with no established connections to get him underground. In his current state, his imminent capture seemed inevitable.
Levi hit a fence and ran alongside it, finding comfort in the overgrown vegetation that protected the thin layer of snow. Footprints. Blood trail. His distressed scent. There was little he could do when Supras were hunting their own.
Finding a section of the fence had been pulled away, he ducked through it, wincing and losing a round of air from the lacerations across his stomach. The stretch caused his skin to feel like it was ripping apart, but he knew he had sustained far worse. It was simply a shame he was making it easy for the wolvens and vampires to follow.
“There!”
Levi jerked his head over his shoulder, spotting four agents just around the corner of the building. He cursed as he dove for cover while three subdued rounds fired at him. He couldn’t tell if they were suppressors or another modification for a gun, but the fact they were quieter unnerved him.
Following a footpath through the overrun communal lawns, he sprinted around another building and shed, then through a depressing playground with jangled swings. As soon as he cleared the apartment complex’s brick sign, an older uniformed agent stepped out from beside it with a sleek rifle aimed at Levi. The grim slipped and slid across the slush to a stop, hands up—don’t shift—but he got the distinct feeling it was all in vain. There was a void in the human agent’s gaze where patience should have resided.
“You’re done, wolven.”
The gunshot cracked the air, punching him in the chest.
***
“You have the right to remain silent.”
The chinking of chains was like a cannon being fired into a feathered pillow, soft and simple in nature, but devastatingly jarring in the desolate room. The iron manacles hummed with glowing aqua veins of spiritual energy interwoven across the specialized device which was bound to the steel ring in the center of the table. For the umpteenth time, his eyes traced the smaller chain links that connected at the shackles on his wrists and flowed over the table's edge to the cuffs around his ankles.
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
They had taken his name. Stripped him of his watch, belt, the waistcoat suit that he always worn like armor and Levi mocked with no maliciousness. Peacocking again, Smith? In exchange, they dressed him in an orange jumpsuit that smelled of bleach and scratched uncomfortably at his thighs, along with the restraints that gnawed at his wrist to cut off his access to his own soul, crippling the reaper.
The interrogation room was a watery, flickering box. One buzzing overhead light, one camera in the corner, and one mirror that didn’t reflect so much as watch. The air conditioning hummed low and constant, encouraging a chill to seep into his skin and further his discomfort. The opposite of what he usually employed with detainees.
“You have the right to talk to a lawyer and have them present with you while you are being questioned.”
He hadn’t asked for a lawyer. Not yet. Not because he thought he didn’t need one—hell, he knew exactly how bad this looked—but because he still hadn’t figured out what, exactly, this was.
Homicide. That was the word they kept using, like a knife twisting slowly.
He wanted to laugh at that, but only managed to refrain in the last second, swallowing the gallows thought before it could escape. Giving them cause to question his range of remorse or sanity would have adverse effects, regardless of his intentions. But forgive him for finding humor in charging a Reaper with homicide. While it did occur that one would go mad or kill outside of SRC’s slackened leash, the cases were few and far between.
Erwin certainly never suspected of being here now, scrutinized with the same belief that he'd gone rogue.
“If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you.”
He let his head rest against the cold metal table, eyes half-closed, thinking about the last thing he had seen before the SRC agents slammed him to the pavement of a condemned complex: Levi running, fast and reckless, one step ahead of the agents into an opposite building. They had split instinctively, no time for a plan and driven into desperation with no way of communicating. And to think it was supposed to be a normal day. Meet with their caseworker, go to GSIS and debrief with the team.
But then a body was found, along with evidence to support probable cause and their immediate arrest by an organization that oversaw even the federal Gleaning Society of Investigation Service.
“After being informed of these rights, you have the right to choose to speak to the police or not.”
A setup. Clearly. And regrettably clean—too clean. A wealth of evidence, circumstantial and associative, wrapped in a pretty bow as if Erwin was one to be sloppy and lazy to such a crime in the first place. It was painstakingly obvious to anyone who knew him that the evidence wasn’t what it seemed but proving that in court would be an entirely separate matter.
Levi had to have gotten out, at least. Had to. If he didn’t... if they captured him, then WMC would recall--
No. He cut off the thought. Couldn’t afford to think like that. Couldn’t let them break his rhythm. That was what the room was for. The manacles. The isolation. The hours with no questions. Just waiting and watching.
They wanted him tired. They wanted him unsure. And eventually, they would want him to talk. Unfortunately for them, he had nothing to offer as a way of explanation. Not yet. And when he did have something to say, he was sure the riposte would consist of rolled eyes or disapproving glowers, especially if he dropped the name of who he believed was truly behind it all.
He could see the reaction clearly in his mind, the metaphorical shattering of a Molotov cocktail being dropped, the spread of fuel across the table and oxygen meeting flame with no reward for his effort. Regrettably, coming out and claiming the set-up would do no good. If anything, it would shoot himself in the foot, so he needed to keep his cards close to his chest. Change the perspective around and step out of his skin to look at the bigger picture.
Watch them in return.
The SRC agents behind the camera and glass. The interrogator currently somewhere outside of the room, preparing the files to corner and pressure Erwin. The evidence, the body. The true culprit. All pawns on a chess board for him to maneuver to his advantage. There was a way out of it--had to be. He only needed to outwit them, even from the confines behind bars. It promised to be challenging but his hands were literally tied. He'd make do.
The magistrate judge hadn’t looked him in the eye when she denied bail. Just read off the docket like it was a grocery list: “Flight risk. Obstruction. Resisting arrest with violence. Felony murder.”
Murder. It still didn’t sound real. The victim’s name hadn’t been said aloud. Just initials in a file. "D.O.A. on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge" which was the same bridge that connected the mainland to the Kitsap Peninsula. The toll road had even clocked his vehicle passing before and after their stay in the hotel.
Wrong place, wrong time? Or did someone follow them with intentions to stage it?
He sat up straighter, ignoring the ache in his shoulders, and stared at the two-way glass.
“You’re only wasting time,” he said to whoever might be behind it. “Me sitting here will not conjure answers I do not have.”
No response, not that it was a surprise. It didn’t matter, either way. He wasn’t giving them what they wanted, even if he had something of value. Not until he knew where Levi was. Not until he figured out who had set them up.
He leaned back; eyes locked in the mirror where his reflection stared back passively.
Let them watch.
The door hissed open with the sound of a vacuum seal releasing. Typical that no one knocked in federal facilities. They just entered, because they could. Of course, it helped to have the authority for such actions, as the shoes were a giveaway upon entering. Polished black leather, regulation issue, but expensive enough to whisper to the position of friends in high places.
“Director Shadis,” he said, voice even as if it was another everyday occurrence to be meeting under such circumstances.
Shadis didn’t sit across the too small table, but stood right inside the room like it offended him to be in Erwin’s presence. The glower was not unexpected, but the lack of gloating was. Then again, Shadis always had a bit more class than Nile.
“You’re not cuffed because we think you’re dangerous,” Shadis said at last, matching the flat delivery. “You’re cuffed because we found your soul energy on the victim: Lt. Governor Romero.”
That got a reaction. Not much, just a small shift in posture, barely perceptible. But Shadis noticed. He always did when it came to Erwin and frequently used it as ammunition against him. It went both directions, which was likely why they were butting heads so often.
“They also found strands of fur on the victim’s attire. DNA, Smith, which they are running now, but suspect it belongs to your wolven. That doesn’t even account for the fact of video footage showing you and Levi crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge within 12 hours.”
Erwin still didn’t speak, only held the director’s gaze steadily.
Shadis stepped forward finally and dropped a dossier folder on the table. It landed with a soft slap, no dramatics, just weight. He let it sit there, untouched like it deserved its own manifested acknowledgement.
“You know what’s in there,” Shadis said. “At least, I hope you do. Because I’ve spent the last twelve hours trying to convince the U.S. Attorney’s office that there needs to be a secondary review of all evidence. I know you aren’t lazy, Smith. If anyone could get away with murder, it’d be you.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “That almost sounded like an optimistic compliment.”
“I need an explanation.” Shadis’ voice tightened. “Something I can take upstairs before this turns into a closed-case headline.”
The cuffs rattled as he sat back, assessing the director and only feeling his face fall. Those were pretty words, but he recognized the hidden intent beneath. Shadis may have spoken the truth, however Erwin worked on the side of the table the man stood. He knew the methods being employed, the good cop, friendly I’m on your side, so you can trust me. It didn’t matter if Shadis was earnest in his declaration, the fact remained: Erwin was arrested under SRC’s jurisdiction with condemning evidence against him. Shadis wasn’t even in the ladder structure of power to stop the case from progressing.
These were just faux words to coax the caged bird to sing and damn himself further.
“I didn’t kill anyone. Neither did Levi. We were there to confirm the claims from Officers Dreyse and Carolina. We made simple contact to question him, nothing more.”
“And yet here we are,” Shadis said, exhausted with lack of sleep since the start. “Body on the bridge. You in chains. Your wolven no better off—”
“Where is he?”
“—and you refusing to cooperate.”
“I can’t cooperate,” Erwin enunciated, pushing his authority into his tone. “I don’t know what the hell happened. All I know is we went to confirm the stories of Pixis’ officers, and someone must’ve followed us. They knew we were going to see Governor Romero.”
Shadis stared at him. He was a man used to parsing lies, and he was no slouch at it, especially to earn his title as Director. But this wasn’t a lie. It was something worse: the unknown, the mixed bag of possibilities. And the unspoken implication that someone close to the case was responsible.
“How did your soul energy get onto the body? You can only do that if you gleaned him, Smith.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t even summoned my scythe in weeks until today.”
“I need more than your paranoia and claims of coincidence,” he said quietly. “I need something I can work with. Who knew you’d be seeing Romero? Did you meet him somewhere? Was there prior contact? Or did you go to his residence? Something tells me it’s more than the rumors of Dot’s precinct that had you going there.”
Erwin hesitated, just a fraction too long.
Shadis caught it.
“You were working an off-book lead for the C.B. case.”
Silence.
“That’s what this is,” the director concluded. “You followed something that wasn’t in the case file. And now the governor is sitting in the morgue, and I’ve got SRC calling for your head.”
“We didn’t kill him,” Erwin repeated simply.
Shadis exhaled. Then, almost reluctantly, he pulled out the chair across the table and sat down.
“If you’re telling the truth, Smith” he hedged, lowering his voice, “then you’re not only in danger of being charged—you’re already in the first layer of the grave they dug for you.”
Erwin leaned in, expression fixed sternly. “So, you’d better decide fast who you trust and how deep this rabbit hole goes. For all we know, there’s a snake in the warren and I won’t be the only one it strikes.”
A beat passed.
“Where’s Levi?” Erwin asked again. "I deserve to know what happened to him."
Shadis didn’t answer and the silence was the worse form of torture Erwin could experience at that moment.
“Tell me he’s at least safe, Shadis.”
The director sighed and pushed away from the table, but before he turned toward the door, he paused and leaned in close.
“You know my hands are tied,” he bridged just barely above a whisper. “The team are determined to remain relevant to your investigation even as character references. That may be all I can offer you, Smith.”
Then the director left the room, leaving Erwin in isolation as he absorbed the circumstance along with the summary still untouched in the file. But instead of opening and strategizing, his distracted thoughts were on an unending loop, circling and fretting over what happened to Levi.
Notes:
For those that read Bloodroot-- we're back to Mike and a helicopter sharing a chapter together again. Couldn't resist, I guess. I sort of took this section of the story in a slightly different direction at the last minute, so it's shortened the overall fic a little, but I felt like I was dragging the plot out too much. Plus, this way had a bit more action to it, which is my favorite to write.
Hope you enjoyed it and curious what your thoughts are with the rug being ripped out. Thank you for the kudos and comments! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 31: Double-Bind
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The visitation room at the County Supra Correctional Facility was about as welcoming as a tax audit, only with the added risk of danger around every corner.
The human demographic was limited to employees at the back of house roles, such as cooks or janitors, especially as most of the inmates were detained under violent offenses. When natural predators were congregated in large numbers, their prey-predator drive was predictably on a hair-trigger. All it took was a human corrections officer to have their back turned for a second too long, walk too quickly down the hall, or even lean over to tie a boot before a vampire or wolven was ripping into them.
Erwin had the ‘pleasure’ of being one of the few reapers in the prison and, just as it was in the free world beyond the walls, the inmate population gave the death acolyte a wide berth. Once or twice, someone would bravely approach him with a seemingly innocent invite to join at a group’s table, however he turned them down with a simple ‘no thanks’ and went on his way. Getting tied up into the prisoner ecosystem was the farthest of his concerns, especially when he intended to stay there for no longer than a brief blip. But until he conjured a way out, he was forced to endure and make do with what he had available to lay out the groundwork.
Currently, he sat at one of the bolted-down metal tables of the visitor's room, arms crossed, orange jumpsuit wrinkled at the knees and elbows. Judging by the scurrying of other inmates passing his space, he assumed his expression was somewhere between disinterested and vaguely murderous.
Through the plexiglass door, Mike and Nanaba walked in with comfortable authority; accessorized by their badges glinting from beltloops, and the dark attire acting as a blight amongst the drab grey room and orange occupants. Upon spotting him, Erwin immediately frowned as their grins widened, already loaded in a way that promised his mood was about to plummet.
Mike took a seat across from him as Nanaba set a file on the table. The smug wolven let out a low whistle as he dragged his eyes down Erwin’s front.
“Well, damn,” he said. “If it isn’t the giant traffic cone.”
Nanaba snorted as she pulled out the opposite chair. “You look like you lost a bet with a clown fish.”
Erwin didn’t move; merely blinked once. “It thrills me to see our tax dollars are funding your comedy careers.”
Mike leaned back, arms folding behind his head in a mock stretch. “We’ve had the whole drive here to brainstorm. The agreement is unanimous: you’re nailing the ‘Maximum-Security Chic.’”
Erwin gave him a flat look. “You done?”
“Not even close,” Nanaba said propping her elbows on the table as she leaned casually on the steel furniture. “But we figured we’d ease you into the finale.”
Suspicion creased the corner of his eyes as he looked between them. Not willing to hold out on suspense, Mike conjured a folded paper from his coat pocket and slid it across the table to him.
“Courtesy of Hange and the boys...” Nanaba teased.
Erwin reached his cuffed hands out and pulled the paper closer, seeing two altered photos side-by-side. They were headshots—his headshots, to be exact, completed with the hideous jumpsuit. Beneath one was a “Vogue” logo while the second was labeled with ‘2026 Inmate Calendar’.
A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips, which he tried to fight, but lost.
“Did I ever tell you that being your friend is excruciating?”
“Don’t lie, mate. You’d be lost without us,” Mike teased, but there was a somberness beneath his tone that hinted he wasn’t as carefree as he portrayed. It stuck out like a stain to Erwin who tried to hold onto the lightened atmosphere, even if it was meant to expire soon.
Nanaba leaned in closer, and while her tone was still light, it felt grounded now.
“Jokes aside, we are working the case. Really, Erwin. I promise you; we aren’t going to let this play out like whoever framed you is hoping for.”
The oblique smile faded completely as Erwin met their gazes. “Have you found anything about Levi?”
Mike sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face while Nanaba pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Not yet,” she replied. “We know he was arrested but SRC has been hush over his circumstances. It likely would be the same in your case, if we weren’t directly involved as teammates and established friends. But Levi being... technically owned by you means we don’t have any legal rights to be in the loop of his situation.”
Erwin felt an annoying itch beginning to form beneath his manacles that he tried to ignore. Just as he was unable to reach beneath the iron to scratch it, he could not get his answers on Levi’s whereabouts.
“Hange is looking into policies to try to determine if there’s a way to transfer custody to her for legal guardianship or not. At least, while you’re here,” she added when he didn’t reply.
“Right.”
“Hey, mate,” Mike’s expression indicated no evidence of his previous teasing. “We’ll figure it out and let you know as soon as we do. Right now, SRC is locking their jaws tight over the case because of the political pressure. We’ll find out what happened to Levi soon, even if we have to wait a couple days for them to ease up.”
“He may not have a couple of days,” Erwin retorted, not intended to sound as unkind as he did.
Nanaba shook her head, “They won’t do anything drastic with a case like this. His involvement makes him just as much a suspect as you. Remember, the evidence places both of you at the crime scene, so he’ll be questioned as well. Also,” she leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper, “Hange has a contact in SRC who she plans to reach out to for more information. That’s our best bet to follow and learn what’s going on.”
Erwin blew out a long huff of air as he leaned back in the seat. After a pause, he changed the subject. “What about the governor himself?”
Mike scratched at his closely shaved beard, running a cursory glance at the guards around the room and murmur of neighboring inmates speaking to their visitors. “He was found on the banks beneath the bridge on the mainland side. Two early-morning kayakers were going out when they noticed some birds hovering over the body and called it in. As you know, your soul essence and Levi’s fur was confirmed on the body.”
“And I’m assuming the rush order on the fur sample was because of Romero’s political status?” Erwin stated.
Mike knew it was rhetorical, but answered, nonetheless. “Why else? Between that and evidence of a reaper going rogue, SRC wasted no time on it.”
Nanaba interrupted them as she leveled Erwin with a stern stare. “What were you even doing over there, Erwin? You should’ve waited until we were finished running the other case. We could’ve joined you guys.”
“It was a simple house visit to question him,” Erwin said defensively. “It wasn’t like I was doing anything outside of the line. Levi and I went there and spoke to him without any threats or ruffled emotions. When we left, he was alive and annoyed at most that we sought him out.”
“You still showed up without a warrant or backup.”
“I didn’t need either,” he corrected. “If Romero shut the door in our faces, we would’ve left.”
Nanaba opened her mouth but shut it after Mike cupped his hand over hers.
“That’s not the issue we need to worry about, babe,” he reminded, redirecting the conversation. Turning to Erwin, he continued, “Did you read the file Shadis brought by?”
“I did. It was vague.”
“Yeah, sounds about right.” He opened the file for Erwin so he could see the two pages paperclipped on either side. “This is all we were authorized to bring in for now. Like we said, SRC is heading the investigation, and we're doing our own research on the side. Off the official record, of course.”
Erwin reached to bring the file closer, taking in the gruesome image of the man’s stomach being cleanly sliced through. Offal popped out like stuffing and there were various smaller inflicted damage to the body like pockets of flesh missing, likely from the birds.
“I don’t need to say what sort of blade appears to be the cause of it,” Nanaba trailed off.
“I didn’t glean him, Nana,” Erwin reminded, flicking his gaze to hers. "For all we know, it was a larger mele weapon responsible."
“I know that. A reaper doesn’t need to slice the body to glean someone, not that you did. But that still doesn’t explain how your soul residue was on his body.”
“Is that the only evidence found linking us? The photo from the toll road around the time of death, and our fur and soul residue?”
“So far, that’s all we’ve found out. But that's all they need, too.”
Erwin nodded, considering the evidence and working backwards on how it was collected in the first place. When he spoke, he kept his voice low and conspiratory, “Tybur would have easy access to Levi’s fur, that’s not much of a stretch. He’s already made it apparent that he’s had people following us, and we know someone, with some level of access to the case, has been feeding him intel.”
“Sure,” Mike conceded, brows pinching together. “But you forget, the optics still point at you. We can say you were framed until we’re blue in the face, but none of it shows otherwise, just that there’s potential Tybur could have done it. And conjecture is useless in court.”
He hummed to himself, rotating his wrists against the shackles to rub at the itch still festering. “How did they find us so fast at the WMC office?”
Mike shook his head as Nanaba’s face tightened when she responded. “Apparently, they implant chips in wolvens from shelters. Didn’t know they fucking had trackers on him this whole time.”
Blowing out a breath to quell his rising temper, he lifted his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose, growing even further annoyed by the clinking chains. “I’m admittedly disappointed at myself for not considering that sooner. That shouldn’t have been a surprise.”
“Yeah, so even if you did get away, they would’ve found you regardless,” Mike admitted grimly. “I doubt Levi even knew about it. Probably injected him when he was sedated at the shelter.”
“Fucking hell.”
Dropping his hands to his lap, Erwin considered what his options were. If Hange had access to someone within SRC, they could try to determine what other evidence may place them at the scene. If there wasn’t anything else, then knowing how the soul residue was found would be their best bet. Whether in the wound, or on the clothes. Was it splattered or concentrated? Just what was the potency of it?
Then there was the determination of what would happen with Levi. As a possible feral wolven, euthanizing him would be a quick solution for SRC. But given he hadn’t shifted during arrest and was far from feral, that would buy him time. On the other hand, his fighting record on top of a homicide may negate that completely. Pointing Hange’s resource in the shifter’s direction would be priority before reviewing the evidence, but that didn’t mean the team couldn’t poke around in the meantime.
“Have you ever heard of the Zen koan featuring the double-bind?”
Mike and Nanaba shared a glance before shaking their heads.
“It’s a method used to introduce an opportunity for a person to break free from habitual patterns of thought. Usually, it's done by forcing them into a situation of 'damned if you do and damned if you don’t',” Erwin informed. “For example, a teacher clutches a ruler and has a student hold their palms out to be swatted as discipline. Before they do anything, the teacher asks the student a question and tells them that if they answer it, they will be punished. If they do not answer it, they will still be punished.”
“...Ok. So, I’m confused what that has to do with anything,” Mike admitted.
The shackles grated together as Erwin sat up in his seat. “There’re different double-bind examples, but each is designed to encourage the student to move beyond the limitations of the scenario to find an answer. To look beyond the two given choices... I'll give credit where its due: Tybur has successfully cornered me to where I’m stuck in a checkmate with no legal room to move...”
He allowed a quirk of his lips to play up the corner, strategy now finally taking shape behind his eyes.
“But I think it’s time to create a third option--and steal the ruler away from him.”
***
Returning to consciousness was equivalent to being towed through the sludge of the Louisiana swamps; brain groggy, lungs aching as if inhaling soup, yet tongue disgustingly dry. There was a buzz tickling his ears along with the scent of spices, like stout patchouli, which scratched at the back if his throat. But all of that was shoved to the rear of his mind thanks to the barbed discomfort vying for his attention across his stomach.
Levi vaguely became aware that he was fixed in an upright position rather than sprawled out on the ground by the way he had to lift his chin from his chest. The straightening of his vertebrae opened the sternum up, popping the cartilage and causing his next inhale to turn into a hiss. Between the ache in his abdomen and the stiff muscles, the awakened twinge in his chest where the officer had shot him with a tranquilizer wasn’t a walk in the park either. The capsule and needle were large enough for a fucking rhinoceros, obviously built for a wolven who had already shifted and had the protection of thick coat and bulging muscles. Neither of which Levi possessed.
Fucking overkill.
He tried to move his arm up to tend to the spot but found he couldn’t move. Straps bit into his chest, and his arms were linked over one another at his front. The movement grated on his injured abdomen, and he wondered if it was some sick joke to restrain him as such over the wound. Then he noticed the worst of it—the pressure across his face that belonged only to one device: a muzzle.
Heavy and unkindly digging over his nose, while unmistakably bolted behind his head, it too rubbed against the tender gashes along his cheek and chin from the lycanthrope officer’s claws. He couldn't be certain it was intentional to cause him discomfort, though the thought had the beginnings of panic crawling up his throat. His breath rasped through the narrow slits, and he audibly swallowed.
What the hell is this? Where’s Erwin?
It was through the din of his quickening breaths waking him further that the muffled voices drifted across the sterile room. Whoever was talking was in an increasingly irritable discussion, having not noticed Levi waking up.
“...don’t understand why you’d go straight to a muzzle. He hasn’t even been processed yet.”
“He’s flagged,” clarified the second man, sounding far calmer and controlled than the first. “Registry noted he’s a fighting wolven on his record. Per the witnesses at the illicit ring, his kill count is deep in the double digits. Combine that with the evasion of arrest, and we’re not exactly overreacting.”
“Still,” the aggravated man grumbled, “I need to process him and have him questioned. Your recommendation to the staff will make all this additional gear hinder my ability to do that.”
“Then you should take that concern up with your supervising agent who made the call for WMC to assist,” the other retorted, a shrug audible in his tone. “Because I’m only here doing my job and taking the appropriate measures.”
Levi clenched his jaw, barricading the frustrated scream and growls that wanted to escape. Something must have come out before he could refrain, however, as the two men talking behind him immediately noticed he was awake.
The shadow on the floor shifted and one of the men entered his line of sight.
“Ah, good afternoon,” he said flatly. “Sleep well?”
Coming into focus, Levi first noticed that the man was not in a typical suit or uniform. There was no badge or embroidery showing allegiance to an agency, nor name tag. Just inquiring eyes behind round spectacles above a groomed beard. With wavy straw hair swept out of his face, the man wore a reserved beige blazer with matching trousers and a loosely fitted white button-up. Beneath the spiced fragrance of some herb Levi couldn’t name, his nose was able to pick out the man was a wolven, and powerful at that.
The second stranger, a reaper judging by the chilly shift in the room, approached beside him, donning a tailored black suit with an SRC badge hanging from the belt at the front. Likewise, there was no nametag, but his expression was stern and unreadable as he stared openly at the metal on Levi's face.
Levi imagined he was quite the image sitting in a chair, confined in a straitjacket and muzzled, while questionably delirious from the drugs. So long as he avoided looking feral, he didn't care of his first impression.
“Levi,” the agent spoke, “do you understand where you are?”
He made a noncommittal noise into the muzzle while the one who wasn’t an agent tilted his head, amused.
“Let me help clarify.” He reached into his messenger bag and retrieved a bulky black book, setting it down in front of him. Taking the seat across from Levi, he spun the book around dramatically, so it was facing Levi. “You may call me Zeke Ksaver. I’m an employee with WMC, and I’m here to assist with the investigation.”
Levi furrowed his brows, trying to follow along. It was unexpected to meet a wolven who worked under WMC, but he knew it wasn’t unheard of. Still, he expected that if a case worker was going to show up, it would have been the one assigned to his personal file to begin with. And strange as it was, Clint’s face would be a huge improvement to the man across from him, fellow shifter or not.
“You have questions?” Zeke inquired from the little expression that escaped from above the mask.
Working some saliva into his mouth, he asked, “Are you a consultant?”
A curl of Zeke’s lips was smothered before it could fully form into a smile. “Something like that. For special cases, the U.S. Supra Regulatory Commission will call upon us to assess the mental capacity and stability of wolvens in their year of rehabilitation--if brought in for alleged crimes. I’m here to help understand your side of the circumstances.”
My side? Meaning Erwin must have been arrested too.
Internally cursing, Levi kept his mouth shut, ignoring the swell of unease and overwhelming urge to yank on the constricting jacket. When it was clear the hellhound wasn’t going to speak further, Zeke gave a facial shrug and continued.
“Can you tell us where you were last night between the hours of 10pm and 7am?”
“Sleeping.”
“Where?”
“In a bed.”
Zeke’s gaze narrowed as he tilted his head like he was dealing with an unruly child. “Yes. That’s what I figured. Where was the bed, Levi?”
“Some hotel. Don’t know the name.”
“And what is your history with Dorian Romero?”
Levi didn’t answer. The agent stood behind Zeke with crossed arms, watching Levi through an irate glare.
“You’re bonded with Erwin Smith, correct?”
Again, he remained quiet.
“You don’t have to answer. Agent Rodriguez here had his staff take the photo to confirm our records that you have a seal on your inner arm. We also have the record confirming the functionality was successful after your demonstration with the technician who applied it.”
Tch, then why fucking ask me? Levi scoffed, trying to gather more saliva for his dry mouth.
Whether aware of his spinose thoughts, Zeke continued his explanation. “I ask because it’s important to determine how far your free will actually extends, especially with the circumstance you find yourself in. It’d be helpful for everyone involved if you cooperate.”
Feigning disinterest, Levi let his gaze veer toward the wall behind their shoulders, making it no secret he wasn’t paying attention. His peripheral tracked the agent shifting his weight while Zeke sighed and leaned forward on the table, intertwining his fingers.
“I understand that this is a lot to take in. But you have a history of being utilized for violence, Levi. Surely you can see a body turning up with your fur on it is not a good impression.”
Unwittingly, his gaze flicked to Zeke’s face before redirecting elsewhere. He tried to hide his thoughts conjuring how his fur could have been planted on the victim or who the victim even was. The term ‘undeniable evidence’ was starting to sink in on the severity and he wondered what Erwin’s suspected role was in it. Did whoever set this up happen to have something just as damning on the reaper to frame him too? Or was Levi the primary suspect?
“I bring up your time as a fighter because from the reports, you were involuntarily entered into the illicit rings, correct?”
The agent shot Zeke a warning look, “Don’t form your questions into a leading statement. Open-ended, Ksaver.”
“Right. My apologies,” he waved off dismissively.
Levi took in a steady breath through his nose but didn’t answer, not trusting himself to make matters worse. If they were going to get out of this mess, he had to trust Erwin to manage it and Levi to not say anything to entice these people to euthanize him before that happened.
“So, what was your level of willingness in participating for the fighting pits?”
The lull ebbed and swelled between the trio, growing stale with impatience and subdued frustration. The perks of the stupid jacket was Levi couldn’t fidget or worry as his nail, being limited to glaring at the corner of the room.
Zeke sighed and reclined in the chair, crossing one leg over the other as he tilted his head to assess the grim. There was something about the evaluation that had Levi’s hackles rising, instincts warning of the impending change in the wolven’s demeanor. The man unnerved Levi for the sole reason that the strength in his presence was more than that of a lowly case worker.
“You want to know what I think, Levi? You have what I call: a necrotic influence. Are you familiar with the term?... No? Well, it generally refers to the effect that dead or dying cells have on their surroundings.” He leaned forward just enough to extend a finger and tap at the nondescript cover of the black book. “Do you know what this is?”
Levi’s eyes flicked toward the book, then followed the man’s arm up to his elbow, then shoulder until landing on his scrutinizing stare.
Zeke shrugged and leaned in the chair again, letting his hand drag off the cover and rest on the tabletop.
“My point is your history proves you have a tendency to shape the biological landscape around you. Your destructive influence, particularly in relation to a severe lack of empathy and remorse, shares a correlation to the number of deaths that are left in your wake. Those around you tend to meet their end. And there is a lot of that, isn’t there, Levi?... Did you know that such instances are often explored with antisocial personality disorder and psychopathy?”
Biting down on a growl, Levi patience finally broke. “You clearly like to hear yourself talk. Can’t say I feel the same. So, that being said, why don’t you do me a favor and spare me your sanctimonious bullshit.”
A thin-lipped smile peaked through the man’s beard, and Levi found himself bracing for the other shoe to drop. He wasn’t sure how strong the wolven was, but he knew Zeke was not to be underestimated.
“You have a bit of an attitude problem, don’t you?”
“Don’t patronize me.”
Zeke lifted his hands in supplication. “My apologies. Just making an observation. If you don’t wish to hear what I have to say, then perhaps you can take a turn on speaking and explain what this is.” He reached for the book and opened it to a random section.
Images filled the guts of the book. Portraits of people with bright faces. All that he recognized. The page flipped. Then flipped again. More pictures taken and taped into the bone-white pages with no other prelude or intent.
At first, it didn’t register exactly what he was staring at. But then as his eyes skimmed to the image beside the profile, photos captured where their faces were frozen and empty, bloodied and torn, his stomach plunged to the floor.
More pages turned and then there was a change in entries. The portrait was accompanied by a full body image of a mangled, disemboweled, half-eaten corpse left on the dingy floors of a cell. Each one had a timestamp. A date scratched in with a ballpoint pen.
Levi’s breath caught. He blinked, hoping his vision was playing tricks on him, conjuring hallucinations.
This isn’t real--This isn’t...
The page continued to flip and for a while, he forgot there was someone physically doing the turning. That there were two other people in the room, watching every flicker and twitch of his expression. But the rolodex of photos—of people he knew only in their briefest final moments, sacrificed to sustain him for a few more weeks—continued to capsize until finally landing on the last image.
With no more pages to flip, the room was brimming with thick stillness as Levi took in the last photo, different than the others, but recognizable all the same. A profile from a dating app; a young woman, 29 years old, with loose bouncy curls named Sam.
A blurred memory wobbled as it hit him like a blow to the chest. No warning as it crashed upon him, every bit raw and disorienting.
That... that fucking—bastard! He fucking recorded all of it?! He fucking—
His fingers twitched inside the restraints as he felt the blood drain from his face. Zeke must have noticed how green he looked because both him and the agent lurched on their feet and rushed to unlatch the muzzle before a trash bin was shoved unceremoniously under his chin in time to catch his vomit. It hit the bottom in a splash, but Levi was beyond having the capability to feel embarrassment between the unpleasant gagging and the inflamed agony of his injuries on his stomach. He also became aware that his cheek had stitches in it after feeling a couple pop from the volatile hurling.
Once he was finished, Zeke replaced the muzzle that Levi was too distracted to fight against, eyes glued on the photos staring back at him in judgement.
“You need to calm down, you hear? Slow your breathing down. Hey—.”
It was then he realized he was hyperventilating. His hearing had fallen deaf in his shock, a faint ringing at most as he entered a full panic attack. Shaking and gasping only became worse when the muzzle hindered oxygen flow until inevitably, one of the men inserted an injection into his neck.
The pressure was invasive and unwelcomed, but the blackness that swallowed him was not.
Perhaps he’d wake up in the Netherworld, where he belonged. Perhaps it was better that he was taken away from Erwin.
***
“I suspected as much,” Zeke mused aloud, shutting the photo album and returning it to the messenger bag.
“Suspected what?” Agent Rodriguez groused. “You purposefully upset him just so he’d be sedated. Now I have to wait even longer to question him.”
“I don’t think that’s your concern any longer, agent. You see, Smith obviously wasn’t following up with proper training protocols and Levi has suffered as a result.” He zipped the bag and unlocked his phone to type a message, not bothering to spare the agent his full attention. “Fortunately, I believe he’s not too far gone to be rehabilitated.”
Rodriguez waffled wordlessly before he managed to conjure a full thought. “We’re not exchanging custody. He’s a suspect!”
“Wolven Penal Code § 220 (4)) states otherwise. WMC is in our jurisdiction to conduct a parallel investigation and determine the negligence of the owner. Seeing as Levi and his handler were bonded, there is significant evidence showing his inability to have a choice in the matter.”
“That doesn’t clear him of the charges! And what was that book? Are those crimes he's committed in the past? Who were those people?”
Looking up from the phone, he pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Agent Rodriguez. Firstly, it was merely a prop used to measure a wolven's ability to feel strong emotions that a feral subject is incapable of. Those photos are staged. Secondly, as a reaper, I don’t suspect you’re familiar with the bonds administered to wolvens and their sponsors. Its purpose is a safety mechanism for them to be in public—”
“I know that!”
“Then you know that a wolven in such a position is given little choice but to obey their sponsor. Not to mention, being bound to a reaper means the bond influences deeper by tying the wolven’s soul. There is literally no option for Levi to deny an order from Smith even if told to murder Romero.”
“So, that’s it? You’re going to take him back to a shelter and try to rehabilitate him? He should be gleaned! Don’t you euthanize feral wolvens?”
“His remorse for those people in the staged photos say differently.”
The deadened glower illustrated the reaper was unimpressed with that excuse. “You just gloated that he showed a lack of remorse. Now you’re saying he feels guilty?”
“I was running my own measurement of his mental state. I verbally pushed and he responded. It doesn’t mean I agree he’s incapable of feeling remorse.”
“Gods, you’re a conniving bastard.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.” The agent shook his head and glared at Levi, slumped forward unconscious in the chair. “We’re still going to investigate his involvement and as you said, it’s a parallel investigation. We expect answers on any development you find out about him.”
“That shouldn’t be an issue.”
“And what happens if you find out he’s a willing participant?”
“He’ll be turned over to SRC or, if we are authorized, we will recall him.”
That appeased the reaper’s dour mood as he reluctantly nodded. “Alright. Fine. So, you’re taking him now to a shelter?”
“For now, I have a foster sponsor for him lined up already to assist with the investigation.”
Rodriguez pulled out his notebook and flipped to a page. “We’ll need their name then, so we know who to contact if we need to stop by.”
Zeke finished his message and slipped the phone away, trading it for a slip of paper with a number already written on it. “Certainly. If you can’t get a hold of me, you can call this number, and she'll assist anyway she can.”
***
“You have arrived at your destination.”
Eren leaned over the steering wheel eyeing the blocky concrete structure tucked within the industrial district of Federal Way. He maneuvered the sedan to the side of the road beneath the sidewalk's buffer trees and turned it off to not draw attention. The streetlights poured broad puddles along the near vacant parking lot, illuminating the rear bay doors of the Medical Logistics Facility.
Jean unbuckled his seatbelt and peered out the driver’s window, uneasy in his assessment.
“This is the place Hange said?”
“I guess so,” Eren answered, still staring at the building that seemed lifeless like all the other warehouses around. “Her research says the local clinics use this one primarily for long-term medical storage, before the patient samples are disposed.”
“And how do we know Erwin’s sample would be stored long-term?” he asked, skepticism carried crystal clear in his tone.
“Why are you asking me that? You should’ve been there to hear her explanation.”
“Well, I obviously was busy contacting the clinic to confirm which one they used for the bond. Fucking twat. I’m asking you now, so tell me.”
“Gods, I wish you didn’t tagalong.”
Jean punched him in the arm with a glare, causing the wolven to hiss in surprise.
“Fuck off, Jean.”
“Fucking answer the question.”
Eren shook his head and glared, teething his elastic-tie off his wrist before gathering his hair into a messy bun. “Apparently, soul residue when on a body lasts a shorter time before it vaporizes or whatever. But when they extract it for bonds, it’s mixed with a compound that extends its life. Sort of like whatever's in test tubes to keep blood from coagulating.”
Jean leveled him with a deadpanned stare. “Exactly how accurate is this stuff that you’re telling me?”
“Look,” Eren snapped. “You know how hard it is following Hange on her sciency rants. I’m just telling you what I got out of it.”
“Fine, fine,” Jean conceded, hands in the air in surrender. “As you were.”
Eren rolled his eyes and yanked a flashlight from the door pocket. “Anyway, the soul essence is preserved longer and being a large quantity of medical waste, it needs proper disposal. I guess, they take a scythe and break it down into a chemical format of carbon, manganese, and—something called vandem or vanadium. There were more she listed off, but I sort of zoned out for a bit there.”
“Figures,” Jean muttered under his breath, though Eren ignored it and continued.
“That stuff's injected in the sample and breaks the power source of the soul down and then it’s safe to dispose of with the usual sterilization methods. The point being, it’s a long-ass process and seeing as other medical waste like blood is a higher risk of transferring diseases, soul samples are stored longer. Did I spell it out enough for you?”
“You did a good job. Want a Scooby snack?”
Eren snorted, a reluctant smile tugging free. As much as he was annoyed with his friend’s insistent banter, it was welcomed given the unfavorable circumstances they found themselves in.
“Alright, it’s...” Jean pulled up the sleeve of his black coat to look at his watch, “0049. Night shift should only consist of a security guard or two until 0500. That should give us plenty of time and minimal risk of being caught to see if we can put eyes on Erwin’s sample.”
“This feels so weird. Like a strange violation.”
“How?”
“Well...” Eren scratched at his earlobe while pocketing the EMP camera disrupting device after turning it on. “I wouldn’t want you sneaking into a medical facility to inventory my urine sample or something. Feels private.”
“Trust me, I think I’d rather glean myself then ever do that.”
“What? Wait. You wouldn’t go check for me if I was in Erwin’s place, being framed for murder?”
Jean scoffed and tugged on his black gloves. “The odds of you pissing on a crime scene is kinda your species’ M.O. isn’t it? Marking your territory and announcing ‘Eren was here’? Really, there's no point breaking into a place and checking you samples.”
“... I hate you so much.”
“Nah,” Jean reached over the center console with a grin, patting Eren’s chest. “You’re secretly in love with me, but jealous Marco already has dibs. Admit it, who else would you be sneaking into a building with if I wasn’t around?”
“Hange seemed pretty game to come along,” Eren retorted petulantly.
“You’re hilarious. She’d drive you up a wall with medical jargon the whole time.”
“Whatever. Are you ready or not? I want to make this quick before anyone finds out. Especially, the rest of the team.”
Jean opened the door and hastily exited, followed by Eren who shut his car door which sounded far too loud on the desolate street. There were only two vehicles parked far from one another in the car lot across the street. Likely the security guards’ if they had to guess.
“No matter what, we’re going to get chewed out,” Jean commented casually as they started toward the bay doors. “Once they realized we broke in without a warrant or telling them, you know Nanaba will issue out the most mundane punishment.”
“Can’t be worse than sweeping the sun off the sidewalk or searching the entire GSIS’ landscape until we found a purple rock each.”
“Don’t remind me. We’d still be out there if it wasn’t for Nifa’s purple sharpie.”
They passed two dormant medical delivery vans outside the bay rolling doors and trotted up the stairway to the personnel entrance. Jean pulled out a small flashlight that lit up the keypad in a blue-green UV glow, catching the oil residue along four different numbers. Recognizing the lockbox as one that was not linked to any security system, Eren started typing in random sequences, twisting the handle until it clicked over on the eighth try.
The pair slipped inside into a spacious loading dock where a pallet wrapped in cellophane was parked off to the side and rows of storage shelves spanned the length of the building. Eren pulled up the building schematic on his phone as he kept his ears open for anyone heading in their direction.
“She said it should be stored in a cryogenic freezer. Looks like there’s one in the sublevel. Vault B.”
“All right. Let’s not tip off the guard. The office and breakroom are opposite sides of each other.”
“Let’s go then.”
The agents scurried through the warehouse, using the low safety lights for guidance through the aisles. Spotting the signage directing toward the stairs was simple enough as it happened to be on the backwall of the building.
Eren followed Jean into the stairwell that echoed with every step, despite their best efforts at stealth. Their dark, off-duty attire only did so much in way of blending into the low lights, but noise carried too easily off the bare walls and lofty ceilings.
The second level was cooler than the main warehouse, and significantly more crowded with narrower aisles and walkways. Toward the rear left corner, three bulkhead-style doors sealed off storage wings with foreign alpha-numeric labels above the vault identifications.
They approached the reinforced doors that were peppered with biohazard signage and warnings. It was intimidating to recognize the dangers listed in colorful icons and yet not know what precautions to take before entering. Eren was certain a hazmat suit would do them good, and at the very least, it would give them another layer against the cold in the storage vault. The hum of the compressor cycling low-temperature refrigerant was the only sound filling the sublevel, conjuring Eren’s imagination of them accidentally knocking samples over and the basement becoming ground zero for some apocalyptic plague. Then again, Erwin had reassured them that zombies weren’t real, but the wolven distinctly recalled a documentary about a zombie virus infecting ants where the colony would banish the infected to avoid spread.
So, it was not that far out of the possibilities. As much as he wanted to blame the Zacharias couple for putting them in the situation, he couldn't. Him and Jean did this to themselves without telling anyone but Hange.
“You got the location where his vial should be?”
Jean unlocked his phone and swept up the screenshot image. “BM-688. Whatever that means.”
“Great. Helpful.”
Eren opened the heavy door that released a hiss as the seal broke. Inside the sterile room was obnoxiously bright lights and frost lining the racks of drawers along the walls, each one meticulously labeled. Without a word, they split to either side, repeating the mantra of the location as they went down the row. Every column had a clipboard hanging on the side with regular notes jotted in on inventory and extraction, barely noticed through the plumes of their breath in the cold storage.
“Here,” Jean murmured as Eren closed the short space between them. He opened the drawer to rows of dividers with matching vials occupying the slots. Each partition had markings further indicating which sample belonged to whom. “What's the chart say?”
Eren snatched the clipboard off the wall, flipping through the pages until he came across the surnames starting with 'S'. “BM-688-D21.”
Jean hovered a finger down the rows before letting out a curse simultaneously with Eren who was focused on the clipboard.
“Empty.” “Redacted.”
Their gazes snapped up to connect.
“What?” Jean asked.
Eren flipped the board around to show Jean while shoot a look at the empty slot in the drawer. Along the spreadsheet with Erwin’s name was a scribbled entry of “Last accessed: 01:24—Authorization: Redacted”
“What day?”
“Doesn’t specify. Just has the time. But the other clipboards with samples removed have actual dates listed,” he concluded after comparing to a second column. “And it looks like this drawer is scheduled for disposal in two weeks, so there's no reason for his sample to be removed before then. Fucking fishy, all right.”
“Take a picture of that,” Jean ordered, closing the drawer with a metallic thunk.
Snapping a photo of the spreadsheet, Eren opened his mouth to ask about a picture of the drawer when a voice spoke behind them, sending both agents lurching out of their skin.
“You want to explain what the hell you’re doing here?”
Whirling around, hand shooting toward his sidearm, Eren baulked upon seeing the massive figure filling in the doorway to the vault. Jean exhaled dramatically, leaning over his knees as he let out a relieved laugh.
“Mike. What the fuck, man?”
He stepped into the room, dressed in black gear with a compact flashlight dangling from his belt, as the crease over his forehead displayed his disapproval.
“You know, I told Nana that I was going to do a bit of off-the-books stakeout tonight. Pretty much as a courtesy to not wait around for me for supper,” he began with a grumble in his voice. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you two pull up and decide it was a good idea to break into a secure facility without a warrant.”
“You watched us the whole time?”
“Sure did.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Wave us down or something?”
Mike crossed his arms, expression marbled like a disappointed parent. “Figured I’d let you sweat a little before I intervened.”
Eren’s face fell as he shook his head. “I can't believe this.”
The older wolven lifted a brow but let it go, tilting his chin to the clipboard. “What’d you guys find out?”
Jean answered before Eren could make a sarcastic retort, “His sample is gone. Logged as removed with no date written in and no signature of who checked it out. Looks like whoever took it, just signed the bare minimum so it wouldn’t raise any immediate suspicions if someone did a quick inventory.”
“Which means it’s either a terrible case of bad bookkeeping and there was another method of Erwin’s soul energy being used. Or someone was able to break in and get it like us.” Mike pulled out a similar EMP camera jamming device and looked at the video lens staring at them from the corner of the room. “If the case was ours, we could just get a warrant to see who accessed the vault the last few days.”
“Could we call in an anonymous tip to SRC?” Eren inquired, rather hopeful.
“We can try. But it won’t mean they’ll listen. That’s something to worry about later. For now, you two are in trouble, and will get an earful once we get out of here." Mike sidestepped to open the path to the door. "Let’s go. Now.”
Eren slumped as Jean barely suppressed a groan.
“Are you going to tell Nana abou—”
CLANG.
Somewhere outside of the vault, the sound of a metal pipe falling rattled against the sub-storage wing.
Mike’s hand went to his off duty sidearm, and everyone held their breath while staring at the cracked door. There was no hint of movement or noise as they waited, hoping that it was the clumsy accident of the security guard doing his rounds. When no other sound reached them, a follow-up dose of adrenaline fed into their bloodstream.
Jean’s voice was barely audible. “I think someone's out there waiting for us.”
“Mhm,” Mike confirmed, and his tone took on a lower pitch, fully alert. “We’re not alone. And I’m picking up more than one scent.”
For a few seconds longer, the entire sublevel seemed to hold its breath, only filled with hum from the coolant units.
Mike nodded his chin toward the door as he whispered. “Stay sharp. For all we know, whoever took the sample may have been staking the place out for us.”
“What do we do?” Eren prodded, hand still resting on his pistol. The silence from beyond the door left like gravity was growing heavier, making it difficult to move his feet until he knew the conduct moving forward. They were outside of the law. At the disadvantage.
“We move. Quiet and fast to the stairwell. Don’t stop for anything. Keep your camera jammers on you.”
Mike removed his firearm and clicked the safety off, just as Eren copied his actions and Jean summoned his scythe. The trio advanced toward the cracked door where Mike pressed against the wall and peered out, cataloging the vacant shelves partially dipped in shadows.
With a gesture of his fingers in a sign to prepare to move, he brought his gun up and exited the vault. As soon as he was clear of the room, he stepped just to the side to allow Jean and Eren to pour out while he ensured no one open fired on them. Once the door shut with a heavy pneumatic shiph, they advanced with precision, sweeping corners and passing sensitive biohazard cabinets.
Eren swallowed audibly as he took point with Mike bringing up the rear. The air was different than it was when they first entered the facility. It now smelled wrong for what was a chilly warehouse. Too earthy with the unmistakable hint of damp fur and faint copper. The hair on his arms stood on end, but he pushed forward up the stairwell, feet sounding like gunshots to his ears now.
Just keep going. Just get to the exit.
It was a pitiful attempt to pretend he didn’t notice the distinct scent of foreign wolven. As if not acknowledging it would make it go away, like hiding under the blanket in bed. He couldn’t tell if it was an instinct that was meant to prolong his survival, or his brain trying to stay optimistic to avoid falling into a spiral of panic. Whatever the case, he was envious that Jean couldn’t pick up the change in the warehouse. At least his ignorance wasn't feigned.
Just before he reached the top landing of the stairwell, his body seized up in alarm, locking his legs in mid-stride as his hand shot up in a command to stay quiet. He took a breath. Then another as he tried to pinpoint what set his instincts off so abruptly.
A low growl came from behind them and immediately Eren was making a dash out of there.
“Go!”
The trio made it to the main floor just as the clambering of heavy feet and wet breathy pants followed on their heels. As soon as Mike passed the stairwell threshold, Eren and Jean slammed the door shut where Eren jerked the handle as hard as he could and snapped it.
Boom.
The steel door buckled outward as the massive wolven slammed into it from the other side, but the trio were already sprinting away, not interested in sticking around to see how long it would hold. It only took another slam before the door caved open by the sheer force, flying off the frame with a shriek of metal. The lycanthrope barely fit through the threshold with its 8-foot frame and bulk of preternatural muscle. Three more lycanthropes came up the stairs behind it, smaller in size but no less deadly.
Eren gritted his teeth around a challenging snarl, firing behind him in controlled bursts. The ammunition cracked like fireworks in the skeletal warehouse, punching into the concrete floor and walls, not even deterring the pursuing wolvens.
“Save your ammo,” Mike barked out as he slowed so he was behind the younger agents once more. “Get out of here and call Nana!”
“What—” Eren hit the brakes as his legs slid to a sloppy halt, forcing Jean to practically run into him. Gaze locked on Mike, he absently held the reaper upright to keep them from falling. “Mike, you’re not serious—”
“I said go, Eren!” Mike bared his teeth around the order, the sharpness of his canines poking through. His eyes flashed as they caught the overhead lights, and his voice blended into an inhuman baritone that was unrecognizable and mutated. “Go!”
Jean towed Eren through the aisles toward the loading dock right as the four lycanthropes were reaching Mike. With their lungs burning from the harsh transition of the cryogenic vault and running through the warehouse, Eren tried to work out an excuse to turn back and help Mike. All thoughts were abruptly forgotten, when the sounds of skin ripping and bones rearranging themselves joined the cacophony of growls. Eren and Jean glanced over their shoulders in time to see Mike’s equally massive form of cognac fur collide with the leader that was an unusual shaded yellow.
They scrapped and battled in brute inhuman strength, digging claws into tender flesh and tearing teeth through muscle. One of the smaller lycanthropes attempted to take advantage of Mike’s exposed back and lunged to shred his jaws on the agent’s nape, but Mike simply kicked out a thick leg, sending the wolven flying into steel shelves that warped under the impact. It spilt wooden pallets and boxes of glass vials all over the floor and one of the pallets crashed into the lycanthrope’s skull, knocking him out.
“We have to help Mike!” Eren shouted before they ran out the exit door. He felt the protective rage teeming with the adrenaline, urging him to shift and join his companion in the battle.
“Are you kidding?! We need to call Nanaba!”
In the office on the right side of the warehouse, they saw the security guard calling the police while waving the gun at the fighting wolvens, terrified and far from any fitness standard to properly deal with deescalating a supra-level conflict. A few bullets whizzed across the building as if that was effective but Mike and the other wolvens didn’t even notice.
Another ballsy opportunist latched onto Mike’s leg when he was pinned beneath the paler lycanthrope, causing him to wail a painful cry. He swiped a lethal paw across the alpha's chest, causing him to lose balance from where he was posted and gave Mike an opening to lurch up and ram his claws into the third's muzzle. The smaller wolven yelped and spun, but it allowed Mike room to get out from under the pile and latch his jaws on the third opponent’s throat. He clamped down and jerked his head back and forth until releasing the wolven to roll across the concrete floor.
Scaling to his feet, he squared up against the off-white wolven who began to circle him, sizing him up and looking for an opening. The wounded lycanthrope recovered slowly as the fourth stood guard until then. Eren was just about to shift himself when Mike barked out a repeated command in a callous, unearthly voice.
“Go now!”
“Come on, Eren!”
Any protests were swallowed as the alpha of the pack ordered the uninjured lycanthrope to go after the agents. Fleeing from the building, they sprinted as if the devil was on their heels across the parking lot to the car on the other side of the road. Eren fumbled with his keys as they ran, senses homed in on the door slamming open behind them and the lycanthrope hunting them down. Before they got too far from the rear warehouse, a guttural roar vibrated from inside the facility, sending Eren’s blood plummeting as he recognized the yelping cry in response.
The fight was turning in favor of their attackers, and Mike just sustained a terrible injury.
Have to go—have to call Nana!
He clicked the key fob, and the car unlocked with the headlights blinking, then the engine started automatically after another button was pressed.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Jean chanted, wrenching open the passenger side and dispelling his scythe as Eren slipped and skirted around the hood of the car.
Sliding in, Eren wasted no time, jamming the shift into drive and peeling away from the curb, wincing as the lycanthrope lunged in midair toward the rear tire and missed by inches. The furious growl was loud enough to be felt over the accelerating engine while the wolven took off into a desperate pursuit.
“Call her! Call Nana!” Eren shouted, revving the engine into the red before it shifted to the next gear.
Jean fumbled with his phone before bringing it to his ear, murmuring prayers for their team leader to answer the call.
In the rearview mirror, the lycanthrope shrunk in size until it finally gave up the chase, stopping in a pool of a streetlight as it watched them drive away with its eyes shining. Right before Eren reached the next intersection, the wolven turned its back and began loping in the direction of the warehouse. Twisting his fingers into the leather of the steering wheel, he forced his gaze onto the road, shoving down the urge to turn the car around and run that fucker down.
“Nana! Nana—we need you!” Jean gasped when the phone finally answered just before turning over to voicemail. “Fuck—I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry. We fucked up.”
Notes:
🫥🫣😶🌫️I'm sorry Mike!!! I swear I don't have anything against you!
Thank you for all the amazing comments! I actually had this whole chapter churned out in a day and almost finished with the next! I don't know what writing deity decided my fingers needed exercise, but thanks! 😂 Hope everyone is doing well! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 32: A Pavlovian Matchstick
Notes:
TW: violence, torture, brief mention of suicide attempt. The usual no fun, terrible things to characters 🫣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
It was surreal how stark a fragile handful of hours could change the world.
Eren stared blankly at the crowded parking lot from across the road, police cruisers and official vans deposited every which way at the rollup doors of the facility. The security guard was still sitting at the rear of the ambulance, talking to a medical professional who had long since given him the clear. Yet he remained where he was, bundled in the shock blanket, waiting for the police to allow him to leave.
Employees who apparently hadn’t received the message from the warehouse manager drove into the car park before being turned around and sent home. Their company chain of command was speaking with the police, likely wondering what they thought happened and how soon the crime scene would be cleaned up so business could resume. Time was money and like sharks, they believed if they were at a standstill, they would die. Fucking greedy pricks.
Never mind the lycanthrope’s body that was removed on a stretcher, blanket draped over the person and loaded into a cadaver van. That was merely a setback to the managers. A cause for a late start and reason for delayed shipping and receiving of orders. Just as the bloody stain in the loading bay was an inconvenience meant to be dismissed until cleaning crews erased the evidence of the break-in entirely.
At least the body wasn’t Mike, though.
Thank whatever deity it wasn’t Mike.
Dejectedly, their teammate was not where they left him when the police showed up, and Nanaba—who was getting updates from the officers on scene—had yet to hear from him. Jean and Eren had discreetly circled the building and then the block to search for any indication that he had escaped the warehouse. Unfortunately, the undercover vehicle was still at the street corner, undisturbed where Mike had last left it. As much as it pained them, they had to face the fact that something must have happened because there were no other signs that he had been there at all.
Leaning on his car, hands fisted in his pockets, Eren internally berated himself for not turning back and helping him. Mike stayed behind to distract the wolvens. The same wolvens who were also missing from the scene and had teamed up to overpower their friend.
He should have turned around.
Why didn't he? Fucking coward.
Clenching his eyes shut, he bit the inside of his cheek to get his temper under control. Shifting and raging around the street was not going to help anyone, and he couldn’t selfishly do that to Nanaba right now. He obviously fucked up and thought they could handle some individual espionage and look where it got them. Mike injured and fucking missing. Nanaba talking to the police who claimed jurisdiction and won’t even allow her to look at the scene where the fight went down. On top of that, they were no closer to helping Erwin get out of the charges against him.
“Hey, take a breath, man,” Jean consoled at his side.
Eren dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and swallowed a frustrated growl. “Why were we so fucking stupid? We should’ve told them what we were doing.”
“We should’ve,” Jean conceded calmly, all antagonizing gone as he bumped his shoulder with Eren’s. “But we at least confirmed someone stole Smith’s sample and we weren’t acting too far from what was expected. Mike was here doing the same thing, remember?”
“Mike didn’t break into the building.”
“I mean... he technically did. He went in after us.”
“Because of us.”
Jean sighed and fell quiet. Together, they watched the scene unfold, although by now with the tangerine and powder blue sky lit by the sun cresting the mountains, the police were slowing down in their tasks. Some had begun to leave the area, having nothing else to do while the cadaver van returned to their workplace.
From the parking lot, they recognized Nanaba making her way toward their location, face set into a bleak shadow as she joined them beside the car. Her personal vehicle was right behind theirs, having met them soon after their frantic call.
“There’s no sign of him,” came the dreaded verdict. Red tinted the whites of her eyes which glistened with unshed tears. Her nose took on a rosy color and it was the first time they witnessed the reaper so emotionally vulnerable. She kept her lips in a thin line to avoid them shaking and everything about the image was salt in the wound for Eren’s self-flagellation. “They found excessive blood splatter, and the fur in the loading docks prove there were multiple assailants, but until they run DNA, we won’t know who was involved or whose... blood is all over the floor.”
Jean stepped forward and brought her into a hug which she melted into, accepting the offer of comfort. Eren wanted to be sick. Did they have any right to comfort her when they were the ones responsible for Mike to begin with.
“Fuck, Nana—I’m so fucking sorry for this. We never would’ve done it if we knew this would happen,” he found himself pleading. If he was in his wolven form, he knew he’d be a whining mess, exposed belly and all.
The reapers broke their embrace as Nanaba fixed him with a disapproving frown that knocked him off balance. He felt her presence swell around her, demanding his full attention that made him stand a little straighter.
“Don’t do that, Eren. Sure, you two acted recklessly and I am pissed at that, but don’t put Mike’s decision on yourself. That was his and his alone. He knew what he was doing, and that’s not your responsibility.”
“He wouldn’t have done it if we didn’t—”
“Do I need to smack some sense into you?” she snapped, shutting him up. “Don’t discredit his efforts to protect you, Eren, or I swear you’ll really get an earful from me. He stayed back to ensure you two were safe and, while I don’t condone you two breaking in to help Erwin, I can’t fault you for doing what you thought was right. But next time, fucking tell me.”
Jean and Eren winced, bowing their heads and muttering apologies.
Nanaba wiped at her eyes and sniffled, pulling herself together in a way that left Eren in awe and envy.
“Right. We have work to do. The detectives on the scene will give me a courtesy update if they find anything on the cameras inside. With any luck, Mike's jamming device got damaged in the fight and we can see what happened after you left. Until then, we’ll go back to the office and discreetly check street footage... Maybe we’ll find something if he was far enough away to not jam their signals.”
Maybe, but Eren had a feeling that wasn’t the case.
***
“There’s no sign?” Erwin catechized breathily. “None?”
Nanaba shook her head, leg bouncing beneath the visitor’s table. Hange sat beside her, rubbing a soothing hand on her back, morose and unnaturally subdued from her usual exuberance.
They came into the visitor’s room, not with jokes or modified headshots, but terrible news that his best friend for the last century was missing. Ambushed by wolvens who knew, or suspected, the team wouldn’t sit around and accept Erwin and Levi were being framed. It was no secret that Tybur had a morbid partnership with wolven packs, not to mention those he employed or owned in his coven, but the hits kept coming. The vampire was determined to keep Erwin in prison, kicking him while he was down with the unspoken threat of not getting back up.
If he did, more of his companions would suffer.
“There was so much blood, Erwin,” Nanaba conceded quietly, voice shaking. “I-I don’t know what to do. I need advice.”
Gods dammit. What was the move here now? The news had thoroughly unbalanced him as he hadn’t anticipated Tybur to already have measures in place to act on the offense against the team. To think, whatever happened to Mike could have been the youngest agents instead. The entire situation left ash in his mouth.
Hange used the stray pause to interject on the discussion. “If you’re planning on trying to let this play out for some scheme of yours, I’d suggest you get an attorney, Erwin. I have a lawyer set up and ready to step in as soon as you give the word. They’re top of their field for reapers. I think the faster we get ahead of whatever the prosecuting attorney is cooking up for charges, the better. The team can work on figuring out what happened to Mike in the meantime.”
Erwin was already shaking his head before she finished. “I’m not playing into Tybur’s games as I'm sure he's hoping for. He’s under the assumption he’s in control right now, which is the crucial window we need to capitalize on.”
He looked squarely into the distraught gaze of Nanaba and yearned to reach across the table to hold her hand, but the guard was hovering along the wall and would cut their meeting short if contact was made.
“Nana. It doesn't seem like it now, but it’s going to be all right. Only one wolven’s body was found and it was a member of the attacker’s pack—not Mike. That means he must be alive.”
Nanaba wiped her sleeve against her nose. “You know the statistics as well as I do. Wolven demographics are the least likely to abduct someone. You don’t see bears or lions kidnapping a raccoon for gain. Their instincts aren't construed as such.”
Hange met Erwin’s gaze, sharing a knowing thought that Nanaba had a valid point. Erwin shifted in his seat and leaned closer onto the table. He considered trying for an antidote of humor with how she referred to Mike as a raccoon in that scenario but knew it would fail—if not make things worse.
“Wolvens are ruled by instincts, that's correct. But you know better than anyone that they’re capable of anything that another person is. They aren’t only their animal counterparts. Remember, they left a pack member behind and most likely took Mike. They wouldn’t have done that if he was dead.”
“They would’ve if they didn’t want GSIS taking the case from local police,” she argued. “If a federal agent was killed, it’d immediately escalate the situation. By leaving behind a no-name wolven instead, it'd keep it at the lowest level and give them the best opportunity to get away with it.”
The muscles in Erwin’s jaw bunched together hearing the truth of the matter. As much as he loathed to admit it, her reasoning was the strongest scenario. However, that little voice in the back of his mind, the one determined to keep trying and trying again for pesky optimism, wouldn’t accept that answer.
“Until we find definitive evidence otherwise, we need to operate like he’s a hostage. We can’t afford to waste critical time mourning him.”
“What do you suggest?” Hange asked.
The momentum of the discussion was starting to head in a direction away from the depressing unknown, and Erwin latched onto it with desperation.
“We overlooked something, somewhere. Romero was a public and political companion of Tybur’s, so having him killed for the sole reason of imprisoning us was done deliberately. Tybur sacrificed a powerful piece, why? Anyone off the street with planted evidence would have achieved the same thing. Me arrested and Levi separated.”
Nanaba’s brows dipped together in contemplation as Hange’s hand on her back stilled. “You’re suggesting Romero was a liability?”
“It’s entirely possible. Everyone is a pawn to Tybur. Some were very valuable.”
“Some more valuable than others,” she concluded. “Who else is close enough to use that would lead our attentions away from them?”
Erwin considered it, recalling his interview with Dreyse and Carolina who motivated them to question Romero. From there, he worked backwards further to Pixis’ death and who was responsible for targeting him with such brutality.
“Crime of passion regarding murder is approximately half to two thirds unpremeditated. We can rule out Pixis’ death as being an accident as he was deliberately staged. But,” he skimmed back and forth between them, “13.5% of murders are done by the victim’s spouse.”
Hange’s hand fell away completely from Nanaba as she leaned forward, whispering at Erwin. “Anka? You’re seriously considering Anka?”
He remained unmoved, simply staring back while giving nothing away.
“She has an alibi, Erwin.”
“Her sister? How many times have we met a family member who was given a heads up and lied to authorities to protect their own?”
“But,” Nanaba hedged regaining her composure, “she picked her sister up from the airport. Took her home.”
“Did either of you review the CCTV footage yourself? Visually put eyes on any camera that would’ve caught them together in the car?”
The agents exchanged a guilty side-eye before Hange amended, “You know that not all cameras capture faces of the drivers. Speed cameras, sure, but if she wasn’t speeding then it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“No,” Erwin conceded, “but the arrivals wing of airport may have a better angle.”
***
Levi felt like he was treading through a watery dream--only, he wasn’t exactly walking. Cutting through the drowsiness and disorientation, he was able to distinguish that much, at least.
But he was moving.
Confused and suffering a wave of queasiness, he tried to lift his temple off the musty carpet, cracking his eyes open to darkness. His arms were snug in the straitjacket, muzzle digging into his bloody cheek, legs coiled close, and the room he was in was lurching beneath him. Levi was fairly certain it was the room and not vertigo trying to get him to toss up whatever remained of his stomach contents.
Blinking the grogginess away, he curled himself into a sitting position only to hit his head against solid metal half-way up. Son-of-a—
Levi slumped against the carpet as clarity abruptly made his situation apparent.
He was in the trunk of a fucking car. The movement, the bounces over potholes. Granted nausea remained a factor his body was contending with, it wasn’t the only variable to explain how disorientated he was.
What the fuck happened?
He recalled... the apartment complex. Then finding out he was arrested with an SRC representative and that wolven, Zeke.
And the pictures.
Devils, the pictures.
Clenching his eyes, Levi mentally talked himself through slow breaths, urging composure over panic. He needed a level head if he was going to compartmentalize and figure a way out.
Starting with the photo album, he knew that Tybur was responsible for its existence. No one else was sick enough to immortalize the deaths of those unfortunate victims, like they were fond memories. Devils, he couldn’t even—No. Breathe. Just breathe... And then for Zeke to come into possession of the album, it just didn’t make sense.
Hold on.
Zeke. Ksaver. No—no, that was wrong. Fuck.
How had he not realized it sooner? That fucker was Zeke Yeager—the Alpha of the Fritz pack.
“You’re such a useless idiot, Ackerman,” he berated slapping the back of his skull against the floor. Instantly, he regretted it when another round of dizziness hit him, emitting a groan.
Well, talk about grim odds. If that was Zeke and the team’s research was correct, that meant Tybur was making his play for Levi just as they expected, and he was too distracted to realize it until it was too late. He should have challenged the man, demanded to see his obviously fake credentials and maybe that agent would have arrested a pawn from Tybur's precious board. Regrettably, hindsight was a cunt and Levi missed his chance. Things were undoubtably going according to Tybur's plan if the car trunk was any indication. No matter what SRC or any other supra department thought of feral wolvens, transporting someone in the boot of a car would never be authorized as official policy.
Taking a slow breath the regain his bearings, he allowed his sight to adjust on its own, glancing around the snug space to determine his options. He needed to get out. The sooner the better. There was no telling how far out he was from the intended destination, nor did he know where he was or how fast the car was covering ground.
What he did know was that getting out would not only be a pain in the ass to accomplish with his arms entirely bound, but it was sure to hurt once he poured out of the boot. That wasn’t the biggest concern of his, however. As long as his legs weren’t compromised, he could still run.
Turning over was a hassle. It made perfect sense why they chose to put him in a straitjacket and muzzle, which the SRC agent was apparently unused to. Levi had to give it to Tybur when he mastered a way to restrain the hellhound, he was never lazy about it. Not only had he prevented Levi from shifting because of the muzzle but his arms would dislocate if he transformed into his canine shape. He truly was stuck as a human with no ability to even bite.
To make his cheery situation oh-so-better, he found the glowing latch on the wall of the boot lid to open it. Some built-in safety measure. Unfortunately, the Universe was taking a piss as the latch required him to slide it, and was not a pulley option.
Dignity set aside, Levi sat up and tried to work a corner of the muzzle into the opening, yet it was too round and wide to fit. Maneuvering and wiggling so his feet so he could try to reach wasn’t successful either with his boots on. Swallowing an aggravated noise, he attempted to distinguish how fast they were moving and if there was any busy traffic nearby, but it appeared his circumstances remained bleak when all he heard was the engine, tires, and faint music from the speakers in the cab.
The car was traveling at a steady pace with curves on the road and even inclines, judging by how he rolled a bit toward the back. They must have been outside of the city which opened another set of issues to consider.
If he managed to get a boot off and unlatch the trunk, then he would have to get out at high speed where Levi surrendered himself to gravity and asphalt. From there, he had to run like hell, barefoot, and possibly through the open landscape until he was safely away. And then came the issue of getting out of the restraints on his own because there was no hope that some good Samaritan would take one look at Levi and not bolt in the opposite direction before calling the authorities.
Well. It wasn’t promising but it was something he’d have to work out later. Anything was better than finding out what waited for him at the end of the drive.
It took some effort to work a shoe off, and even more to readjust his position after the jostling of the vehicle to get into place. By some luck, he was able to toe the latch over and the trunk lifted to freedom much faster than expected.
Levi wanted to spare a moment to consider the best timing to leap out, maybe even catalogue his surroundings, but the boot lid sprung open with such force that it must have caught the driver’s attention in the rearview. A screech of tires jammed hard, fishtailing the rear of the vehicle as it skidded to a halt. Levi collided into the front wall of the trunk, smacking his head against it in the process. Any further thoughts of what that meant abruptly fled his mind.
As soon as the G-force lessened, he rolled himself toward the back and out the tail of the car. Crashing ungracefully onto the tarmac nearly made him throw up again from whatever strength of sedation they used, but grunting through it, he folded his legs under him and took off in a sprint.
Limping from the uneven gait, and with his arms being restricted, it hindered his speed further as he burst through the undergrowth of the forest. He knew he looked insane. There was no dignity in that escape, but his pride was only anchored in getting away. Ignoring the shouts as two car doors opened behind him, Levi didn’t spare a look back: instead, following the decline of the mountain like water running downward.
Stones, cold frost, and scratchy shrubs assaulted his bare foot, but the pain was muted under the dump of adrenaline. Morning sunlight cut through the canopy, creating golden splashes on the forest floor that was far brighter than the cramped trunk he was stuffed in. How much time had he lost under sedation?
His balance was bitterly compromised as he found himself swaying and scrambling. Leaf litter slid under his weight with clumsy steps in the damp snowmelt, nearly taking him and the slope with it.
“Stop!”
The lacerations of his abdomen tugged painfully as a wet trickle of what he knew was blood teased at his waistband. The mountainside seemed to stretch on for miles as he dodged trees, using the approaching rustle of vegetation gaining behind him to keep pushing forward. He hoped that at any second, the forest would break away to a serpentine road, seeing as a mountain that steep had to have switchbacks for the incline. Sadly, all he met was more forest expanding before him.
“Fucking stop, mutt!”
The only warning he had that he was in the sites of a weapon was the inorganic click before electricity was seizing his body. Limbs locking on impact, he collapsed into the snow, loam, and ferns, helpless to stop inertia from toppling and rolling face-first for nearly 15 feet until he collided with a bole of a tree.
The crunching foliage under shoes barely reached his ears through the groan squeezing from his throat, lightning nipping at his nerves and locking all muscles into a painful spasm. Just as the taser with stupidly high voltage had the trigger released, Levi peeled his eyes open, long enough to see the sole of a boot descending on his face.
***
They were back must quicker than he anticipated. A day surely wasn't enough time to find what they needed, not when he anticipated two at least.
That was not a good sign.
Laden dismal expressions carried through their posture as they sunk in the seats across from him, not even sparing an attempt at a flimsy smile. The deteriorated demeanor of his companions set his teeth on edge as he shifted his wrists bound to the shackles.
Was it Mike? Or Levi? He raked his gaze over Nanaba’s downturned eyes, holding out hope that her composure was an indication that he wasn’t about to be delivered terrible news.
“We reviewed the footage of the airport,” Hange broke the strained lull for them.
Oh. Erwin wanted to let out a breath in relief but sensed it was too soon to drop his guard.
Hange rubbed at the back of her neck, loosening an imaginary knot. “Anka did not pick up her sister from her trip. She ordered an Uber who Eren called to confirm with. Anka has no alibi.”
The urge to internally celebrate another correct hunch was absent. Instead, he considered what that meant for the overall investigation and her decidedly questionable location during the night of Pixis’ murder. Had she lied about what Romero had said to her at the funeral? Was he berating her for some unknown actions or was he genuinely trying to keep his extortion hushed? Or was it something else entirely?
"I did more digging on her," Hange spoke up after the pause returned. "I mean. It was archived in the restricted section of the library files--talking old school here."
Erwin didn't offer any verbal reply, allowing space for Hange to explain.
"It was a written text--a copy that the residential covens are mandated to provide in each state... Checked out Tybur's homey little cabal seeing as his presence for his shipping company in the Seattle/Tacoma ports would require him to meet the same stipulations, despite only being here for business expansion. It explains why we never realized it sooner."
"What is that?"
"Anka's family--not necessarily her--had been members of the Tybur Coven. A long time ago. We're talking two centuries. That's why it was never in our system."
"And she's not a part of it?" he asked, brows knitting together.
Hange shook her head. "Her and her sister have lived in Washington for 60 years before Tybur ever put his logistical footprint in the state. There's extended family still in the coven, but are under a different surname. As far as we know, there's been no contact between them since their disbandment."
Interesting. While that did not necessarily mean anything illicit was taking place, these marks regarding Anka was starting to add up.
“Have you sent anyone to bring her in for questioning?”
“Jean went as soon as we confirmed the false alibi. She wasn’t home.”
“Was she at work? Visiting family?”
“We—we don’t know. Jean was planning to stakeout her house until she came back.”
Erwin resisted bringing his hands above the table to pinch his temples, not wanting to draw attention to himself. There was a scheme playing out in his mind, branching off into different outcomes and possibilities. It was messy and riddled with holes where things could go wrong very quickly. Ideally, it would behoove him to address each downfall before he executed it, however, he knew the time constraints he had were unforgiving.
“Still no word on Levi or Mike?”
“No,” Nanaba breathed out, the admission physically causing her to shrink in on herself.
Hange was quick to tack on, as if hoping to give Nanaba something to hold onto, "I've contacted my SRC buddy. They're going to get back to me after looking into it from their end. Er... I also requested that we get the microchip information from WMC to track where Levi is. I'm hoping to hear back anytime today."
While waiting games were expected with working cases and collaboration, it wasn't exactly in their favor. If they waited too long, any chance to find answers on Mike would be nearly impossible to uncover. And they still had no word what SRC was doing with Levi.
“Erwin,” Nanaba took a breath and lifted her gaze to hold his. When she spoke, her voice wavered, and it hit him straight in the heart. “I know you trusted me to lead the team, but I could really use some guidance now.”
He didn’t respond to her right away. Replaying what he had half-formed in his mind, he wasn’t comfortable with extending the risks to the team. Even though he knew it would make his plan easier, and they would give him hell when they found out, there was something to be said about the power of plausible deniability. A term not in Hange’s vocabulary—that much he knew. However, involving his friends with the chances of them suffering the consequences, put into perspective how reckless the plot really was.
“There’s something I can try to do. But it’s probably best if you just trust me.”
Predictably, his response earned him suspicious scowls. “I want to do something, Erwin.”
“For now, work on finding Anka. Until then, I’ll figure out how to get answers on Levi and Mike.”
“There's got to be something I can do to help find Mike. Something you can’t do from here,” she snapped pointedly, gesturing to the visitation room.
Erwin made the mistake of catching Hange’s measuring gaze and knew he was found out.
“You’re planning on doing something stupid, aren’t you? You're not building a plan, you already have one,” she murmured. “That’s why you’re trying to do it yourself.”
Knowing there was no point pretending otherwise, he sighed, keeping his voice as close to a whisper without drawing suspicion. “You shouldn't underestimate plausible deniability. I’m already in trouble,” he lifted his bound arms for emphasis. “I won’t allow you to put your careers on the line.”
Nanaba’s hand slapped the tabletop, startling the guard nearest to them as his hand jerked to his firearm. Hange noticed behind Nanaba’s back and waved him down with a silly, apologetic grin while Nanaba glared at Erwin.
“You have some balls insinuating that my career is more important than my husband, Erwin. Some brass balls.” A finger jammed into his face, inches from his nose as she whisper-shouted at him. “You don’t get to decide who is involved if finding him or what my personal priorities are. I decide that—get it? Only me. Now,” her eyes narrowed to slits, “tell me what your plan is.”
Sitting rigid in his seat, expression not giving away any of his thoughts, he reflected on his companions. They were stubborn to a fault when they wanted to be and had followed him into some questionable battles during WWII when under no obligation. He would have his head in the sand if he thought he could deter them after Hange exposed his intentions.
Reluctantly, and with great hesitancy, he scanned the room with a flick of his gaze and leaned his elbows on the table.
“What I have in mind would greatly benefit us if one of you would be willing to drive...”
***
Two days later.
The construction of prisons contained interesting characteristics, in Erwin’s opinion.
The maximum-security wing was barricaded with consistent, round-the-clock monitoring where guards peeked through the window and put a device on the door to electronically mark that the attendance was complete.
Thankfully, Erwin was not held in that section of the facilities, having been freshly arrested and waiting for the court process to move forward with charges. That allowed him a couple privileges in his limbo status. His good behavior was another variable that worked to his favor, opening opportunities many inmates had to work years to achieve.
The first of which was passing time via one of the ‘employment’ tasks that prisoners partook in. Usually, laundry or cooking or even administration work gave the well-behaved inmates an avenue to apply themselves. When he inquired about taking up a job to pass the time, office work was at the first which was offered to Erwin, but he declined and asked for a task that was taxing in the physical sense. Agriculture wasn’t an option like it was in less populated regions, but manufacturing was an appealing alternative.
So, why would the officials suspect Erwin of having access to tools be a poor decision? He was a model inmate thus far, kept to himself, and it was not like his power was a threat with the manacles in place. Until he was officially charged and reprocessed as a long-term resident, many treated his polite requests with leniency.
He almost felt bad about deceiving them.
No, he didn’t.
His cell was paired with another inmate who was not pleased with sharing his territory. A wolven with a bad attitude who would sniff when Erwin entered their shared quarters and sneer. It was little concern to the reaper who ignored it in favor of staring at the sprinkler systems that poked discreetly through the ceiling.
A cell two down from his had been replaced with flecked plaster patching the hole. Apparently, per the prison rumor mill, an inmate had attempted to hang himself with his jumper only to find the water pipes would never sustain his weight. Per building code and safety, such parameters were required to remain in place, therefore at risk of repeated attempts by those desperate enough to find such an escape.
Erwin sat on his lower bunk and glanced at the open door of the cell. The afternoon sun punched rectangular beams into their building in C-Yard, inching across the walls and floors.
The manacles, glowing and restricting access to his soul, remained fastened around his wrists like gauntlets, though were no longer latched together. It made it easier to complete tasks in the woodworking shop assembling furniture. He could imagine his cellmate would return shortly and make another sour face at the nutty linseed oil that clung to Erwin’s sleeves, but there was little he could do about that without changing.
Sighing, he estimated the current hour, wondering what the fuss was for lasagna day in the cafeteria. He couldn’t imagine it being anything special. Tomato sauce from a can. Rubbery, undercooked sheets of lasagne pasta. Maybe questionable meat to add flavor to the bland profile. Then again, for the people stuck there long-term, he could see where they would find something mundane to be excited for.
He glanced at his slip-on shoes, the orange jumpsuit ridden up to expose a bare ankle on one foot and a white sock on the other. There was an inkling of impatience and trepidation creeping in as he allowed the minutes to tick over in silence, conflicted about the impending socialization with his cellmate. The wing of his housing area darkened as clouds drifted past the sun, turning his lips downward. Then after roughly 30 seconds, just as quickly as it interrupted his thoughts, the sun returned, vibrant and confident.
Erwin was about to give up and search for another inmate to talk to when a familiar frame filled the doorway of the cell. The lycanthrope, by the name of Lial Hadaller, glowered upon seeing Erwin already in the room, grinding molars together before begrudgingly walking in. It appeared he remained very displeased with Erwin’s presence in the perceived territory, and he couldn’t decide if Lial had a grudge against him or was perpetually sour over his poor name. His parents either thought they were clever or were having a laugh.
“Thought you were supposed to start the woodworking gig. Why are you back already, wraith?”
Oh, good. He was already in a mood.
Ignoring the vinegar, Erwin kept his elbows on his knees as his eyes tracked the wolven who leaned against the wall across from him. “I finished early. Came back here because options are limited on where else I’m allowed to go.”
He didn’t have to inflect his voice from a bored delivery. The point was condescending enough. Where else would he go?
Lial glared down his nose at him, not hiding his animosity for Erwin. It was something he wanted to address now that his cellmate was here. Shooting a glance at the watchful afternoon sun, he sat up straighter.
“You seem to have a grudge against me, Lial, and I’m fairly certain we’ve never met before my arrival.”
The wolven said nothing, reminding Erwin of the days when Levi was mute and his expression was stuck in a cautioning glare.
“Is there something I’ve done to offend you?” Erwin tried again.
“Other than exist?”
Interesting. He did not know much about Lial. Not his age or what pack he hailed from. He knew he was in for violent offenses; however, the targets of his attacks were not revealed. Erwin vaguely wondered if the man was older than he appeared or if he simply shared some outdate views. Best to clarify before moving on.
“Do you have a problem with reapers in general or anyone not a wolven?”
Lial unfolded his arms and stood without the support of the wall.
“Fucking Corpse-walkers like you have no business being part of society. You murder innocent people all the time. But I beat a guy half-to-death, and I’m put away in a cage! Just like these other poor cunts here too,” he gestured toward the hall.
While Erwin wouldn’t classify any of the prisoners as ‘poor’ seeing as they had a tendency toward criminal dabbles, he understood the resentment. For most of the supras incarcerated, reapers were the ones who put them away through GSIS involvement. It must seem entirely unfair for those same people to glean souls in the name of the government and greater good, and not face consequences for taking a life.
The few reapers that were in the correctional facility were offered protective custody, just as he was, although he refused due to his temporary circumstances. Not to mention, jumping ship from the main incarcerated populace would paint a larger target on his back. Anyone with intentions of taking out their grudges against him were still very real threats whether he was in isolation or in the thick of it. The difference was, his potential enemies were currently in a stage of bidding their time, waiting for a moment when they could strike and not suffer an immediate gleaning.
It didn’t matter that Erwin was restricted from accessing his scythe. The ingrained fear in their lizard brains still chattered death whispers if they failed in taking him down in the first strike.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but it’s a necessary evil for the public that we glean its members.”
“Don’t talk to me about how it’s better for everyone!” he seethed, taking a menacing step closer. “You don’t deserve to sit here safe and breathing the same air as us. Especially, not with me. Your kind took my mate! You reaped her like she was nothing but grass to be cut."
And there it was. Just as he predicted. It explained all too much without the need for a story. Erwin was familiar with such cases.
Unflinchingly, the reaper replied with appropriate sympathy, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Normally, he would leave it there, but that wasn’t the point of the conversation to begin with. Another glance at the apricot glow cutting through the window had him speaking before Lial could retort.
“While I likely wasn’t the one to glean her, I can assume it was simply her time to go. It’s never easy, but then again, if death was simple, then there wouldn’t be a need for reapers to begin with.”
“It wasn’t her time! She was healthy and beautiful and had so much life to live but your kind still chose her to glean!”
“In order to maintain the natural balance, souls must move on from this realm.”
“Balance? Balance?! You call it balance but everyone else calls it murder!” Lial’s shouting would start to draw guards, but Erwin didn’t bring that to his attention.
“You can’t hold my designation against me or my kind. We’re Reapers. We glean and maintain order, feeding souls to the Netherworld. We cannot shut it off anymore than you can ignore the instincts that strengthen with the moon.”
“Corpse-walkers never should’ve been integrated into society after the Treaty! You’re a disease amongst us! A way for the government to assert its control!”
Erwin relinquished a chuckle before he realized it escaped him. The sound, predictably, had Lial’s face contort into a pinched glower that bordered on unhinged as his lips curled in a snarl. However, the reaper held his gaze head-on, not cowed in the slightest.
“You’re correct about one thing. The government is doing more harm than good in some aspects, but not necessarily the one you’re referring to. The truth of the matter is, if reapers weren’t integrated into society, the population wouldn’t constantly be flirting with the rim of Earth’s carrying capacity. We would've knocked the numbers down significantly more than they currently reside at, to stipulate a naturalized buffer. You should actually be thankful we’re restricted by SRC to rigid statistics and no free to operate as we wish.”
Lial looked like he was a breath away from lunging at Erwin. Unlike the reaper, the wolven was unrestricted aside from a collar meant to prevent a full shift. Conversely, if he wanted to expose other attributes, the wolven was capable to do so, whereas Erwin was very much helpless. Of course, that did little to deter the reaper from pushing his luck.
“That’s all that matters to your kind. Heartless ghouls. You just want order, but I bet you’ve never protected a damn thing in your life! You don’t know what it means to bleed for something—to protect and sacrifice for another person! All you do is take and call it balance!”
Erwin’s dry amusement fell away as Lial succeeded in his first real dig under his skin. Quietly, maintaining a stoic image, he replied, “I know sacrifice.”
“Then maybe you should glean yourself! Take one for society and spare someone innocent for a change, coward!”
“Oh, but Lial, if I gleaned myself...” he titled his head and raised a challenging brow, “then who would be here to glean you?”
Lial’s self-control snapped. A belly-deep snarl ripped through his sharpened teeth as he lurched across the room at Erwin. The reaper managed to get to his feet only to be slammed back onto the thin springy mattress, the impact stealing oxygen from his lungs.
From there, everything was a blur. Lial was taller than Erwin and at their current state, stronger. They scrapped like street brawlers, crashing at one point onto the concrete floor. Erwin managed to post up on the wolven and rain down three solid punches before he was kicked off and from there it was pain and a tangle of limbs.
Just as the guards arrived with electric batons and short shotguns with rubber buckshot, Lial’s claws were inches deep below Erwin’s ribcage, determined to tear out the reaper’s liver. Blood gushed across the concrete pad after separating them, but Erwin remained on the floor until two guards separated them with Lial shoved on his knees and cuffed. Two steel rods hooked on the wolven's collar to keep him in place and out of reach like those used by animal control.
It didn’t stop him from spewing insults and threats, intermittent by the baton shocking him until he stopped resisting the guards. Once the lycanthrope was restrained, two officers hauled Erwin up as he kept a hand pressed to his free-flowing wound where blood seeped through the tight cracks of his fingers.
They rushed him to the Health Services Unit for urgent entry, which felt like it stretched for kilometers through the facility. Fellow prisoners laughed or sneered at him as he passed, calling out derogatory insults now that the lizard brain sensed blood in the air from the perceived apex danger. The lambs always found bravery in the presence of an injured lion.
Erwin ignored it all. Even the correctional officers that shouted at the inmates to get back to what they were doing or back off in case they decided to jump them and finish Erwin off for good. He was woozy with the loss of blood and his head was dizzy from the blows he sustained. The cheekbone of his left side felt hot, and he was certain it was swelling with blood rising to the surface. His nose was aching and the vain thought of it being broken was strange and unwelcomed.
Before he knew it, they were in the infirmary where a male nurse ushered them to a room with a table, already aware they would need to act fast to limit permanent damage.
He went willingly onto the table, letting his hand fall from the wound for the nurse to look it over as the manacle clanged unkindly on the metal surface. The hideous jumpsuit was cut away from his upper half as the guards hovered over the reaper, holding him in place as another nurse came in to assist. Their faces were splotchy and unclear with the bright lights blinding Erwin from overhead.
“This is deep,” one of the nurses reported. “We’ll need to stop of the bleeding, clean it, and it’s going to need stitches. Lots of them.”
“It’ll be easier to stop the bleeding if he was unrestricted.”
“No—can’t do that,” an officer interrupted.
“Then he’s going to be in here longer. We can’t put him back out there wounded like this—and you know exactly why. You’ll have to transfer him to isolation.”
The nurse, even knowing they made a valid point, was smart enough to not bank on the guards seeing reason. They were already packing the wound to slow the bleeding while the officers hem and hawed over the decision presented to them.
Finally, one of them muttered a curse under breath. “Fine. Just until you get him to stop bleeding out.”
The manacles were keyed off by the guards as they danced around the nurses until Erwin’s wrists were free. The access to his soul was nothing short of euphoric. Despite bracing himself against the reintroduction, he still let out a gasp that reignited the pain in his side and made him wince. After a fleeting moment to regain his bearings, he cracked his eyes open and let out a long, relieved breath. It didn’t matter that the manacles were replaced by leather straps. It was an improvement.
The nurses resumed working on his injury while the guards stepped away to monitor from a distance. Again, time passed slowly as Erwin simply laid there, ears tuned to anything happening outside of the room he was in. He was beginning to grow anxious, wondering if he had made a miscalculation to end up there. If his mouth and ego may have been too much for once and now the injury would be a constant reminder of his folly.
Just as the nurses were starting on the internal stitches, the fire alarm began to blare causing the hand to jerk and tug taunt on his wound by mistake.
“What the hell?” someone asked.
Erwin kept his face straight and unassuming, feeling like his bare ankle was too exposed at the end of the table. The nurses froze and watched one of the guards who radioed someone else to ask what was going on and a crackled voice reported a fire in the cell block. Smoke had started to spread out across the entire wing and the sprinklers were doing little to stop the source.
“We’re evacuating the inmates from C-Block and the neighboring buildings,” was the summary.
The guards cursed again before directing their attention to the nurses.
“Is he good to transport to the personnel yard?”
“Yes. We can move him. Just have to be careful until we can finish stitching him.”
“Have to keep his shackles off to be safe he doesn’t start bleeding again,” the second nurse added.
With haste and practice, they put temporary gauze and bandages over his wound and helped him onto a gurney where they replaced the leather straps with another set. Once secured, the guards led them out into the hall and toward the exit, stepping out of the way as personnel with breathing apparatuses and handheld thermal cameras rushed the opposite direction toward C-Block.
Erwin knew that the cameras were to find inmates in the smoke to evacuate them or prevent any from hiding and trying to escape. He vaguely wondered what they would think after the block was empty and they realized the source of the fire was a sock dipped in linseed oil and tied on top of a sprinkler head. Ignited by the heat of the afternoon sun through the high window.
Well, he mused as he saw the exit coming up with the empty hall, with luck, I won’t be around to find out.
With a surge of his energy, he pulsed his arm upward with a jerk and snapped the leather restrained free from the stretcher. The male nurse closest to him let out an alarmed shout, causing the guards to spin around with hands going toward their weapons. Erwin was already sitting up against the stretch of his wound, sending another burst of energy forward and knocking the officers into one another like dominos.
Unlatching his other arm, he lurched off the rolling gurney and locked the nurse into a headlock kicking the second nurse in the thigh where his leg bowed out beneath him. With his free hand facing outward, he sent another push when the guards were nearly to their feet, forcing them off balance again. The closest guard resisted the force as he started to shift into his wolven form, bones popping and rearranging, but the nurse in Erwin’s arms slumped unconscious just a hair of a second on time.
After tossing the body at the second nurse, he charged at the officers, landing a solid punch into the wolven’s jaw and slamming the remaining officer’s temple into the floor. Once he knew it was only him and the nurse left, he turned to the terrified man and closed the distance.
“I don’t intend to hurt you, but I will if you give me reason to.”
“Please—I don’t want trouble!”
“Then listen closely because here’s what’s going to happen,” he began while kneeling next to the unconscious nurse who was sprawled on top of the other. He started peeling off the scrubs, leaving the man in a t-shirt and boxers while the colleague watched on with bulging eyes. “I’m walking out of here and you won’t see me again. I left you awake to ensure these three are safe and to call for help once I’m gone.”
“Bu-but the fire—”
“There’s no fire. It’s isolated and burned out by now,” he explained, pulling the pale blue scrub over his head. The wound in his side was bleeding again and he sensed it was a matter of time before it seeped through the bandage. “The only thing the staff is fighting is smoke, but I wouldn't dally longer than necessary if I were you.”
Erwin shed the torn jumpsuit and slipped into the trousers, keeping the slip-on shoes despite anyone with situational awareness possible noticing a member medical staff not wearing the proper footware. He doubt that anyone would be paying attention during the potential fire.
“Now. You won't radio for help for 10 minutes,” he ordered, standing in his posture perfect stance and unlatching the broken leather bands around his wrists. “You won’t like what happens if you don’t follow that simple rule. Remember, whatever occurs if you fail that one task will be on your conscious, not mine. I don't need to spell that out for you.”
The nurse nodded frantically.
“I need words. Repeat it back to me.”
“Don’t radio for help until after 10 minutes.”
“Good.” He straightened the short sleeve of the scrub until the disheveled fold was fixed. “In the meantime, just sit tight. Your friend will be waking soon, and I’ll no longer be your problem.”
***
The vampire standing guard abandoned his post to meet another coven member halfway down the corridor. They murmured inaudibly with some sense of urgent hand gestures, not sparing a glance at Levi, before they skittered out of sight.
Left alone for the first time since waking up, his low throaty grumbles cut off as he slumped against the corner of the cell that he claimed. He tried taking a slow breath of slightly less tainted air with the pests being further away, but it didn’t make a difference. He could still smell them.
His conditioning was at war with his progress, hippocampus lighting up with flares from the coppery aroma of the vampires, yet he held tight to his frail self-control. Occasionally, Levi had to lean into his shoulder blade, agitate his newest wound to keep from slipping too deep into instinctive reaction, though he knew that wasn’t a long-term solution. And wasn’t that just a fucked-up revelation to have.
Before the fighting ring, Levi was never assigned round the clock babysitters, so he couldn’t help but wonder if Tybur was doing it out of paranoia or to wear down Levi’s hope for escape. Whatever the case, he couldn’t afford to erode back into a semi-feral mess if he wanted to find a way out of here.
After his first failed escape attempt with the car, his next introduction to consciousness had confirmed all his fears. Predictably, he had shaken off another injection of soporific cocktail and woken halfway through Lara Fucking Tybur digging a scalpel into him while strapped face first on a table. To say he panicked would be the understatement of the century.
He lost his shit.
After cursing him to hold still--along with something about removing a microchip--they administered another injection which led to him blacking out once more and waking in a lonely cell.
It wasn’t a familiar place. In fact, it appeared to be a partially submerged basement with a high rectangular window on one side and concrete walls. The bars that lined the front and left side were new and shiny steel, catching his distorted reflection whenever he moved about, almost liquid chrome in appearance. There was also a canvas cot, a plastic campervan toilet, and stainless-steel sink.
Overall, it felt like the cell at GSIS, just... newer. Less worn-in from strangers past. It was miserably cold with the boxy structure feeling drafty and like ice to the touch, and they didn’t think it necessary to supply blankets, though that part was common protocol by now. With a view of snow accumulating against the high window, it was clear why the temperatures were so unfriendly. In another day, he suspected the snow drift would block the sliver of skylight, already being halfway up the glass.
It demoralized Levi knowing that the cage was built specifically for him in mind, especially as there were no other cells in the expansive basement except his own. Only the hellhound with a single guard being switched out every couple of hours. It also confirmed that wherever he currently was, Levi had not been there previously.
A new location, somewhere in the mountains. Being so close to the Canadian border, he would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him to an extent. Any hope for Erwin or the others to find him was already poor odds without the complication of international travel, but he tried not to ponder it too closely. If he was going to escape capture, he would need to do it himself.
That thought was not promising in the slightest.
The day after waking had turned over to two. Food was offered in the form of a sandwich in a Ziplock bag that was tossed through the bars once a day, along with a single bottle of water. He drank three-quarters of it in the first 12 hours before he realized he should have rationed it in the event they didn’t bring him anymore. Belatedly, and to his dismay, that was the case when only a sandwich appeared the following morning.
That also brought up another troubling dilemma for Levi. While the sandwich was innocuous at first glance, he wasn’t a moron. Scentless drugs or meat disguised as something from a deli were justified concerns of his. While he knew the effects starving would have on him, mentally more than physically, he was willing to risk sedation. As for eating the meat, it was a hard pass. White bread, tomato, and lettuce were sufficient enough to give his stomach something to digest and his thoughts not to spiral to what else he would be forced to eat if he stayed long enough.
To pass the time, under the watchful eye of the vampire assigned to guard him, he paced the cell and evaluated the structure, ignoring the warning not to get any ideas and to sit down. That was a foolish threat which went unheeded. Levi knew the vampire wouldn’t stop him unless he started rattling on the door or found a weakened chink in the prison. But seeing as it was new and fortified into the structure, there were little options he could use to break out. Especially, as he had not only the muzzle bolted behind his head that required a key to remove, but his wrists were free from the straitjacket and traded for steel cuffs.
The contraption was another foreign feature that Levi had no prior experience with. Like the handcuffs used by law enforcement, the bangles were narrow and uncomfortable. There wasn’t a chain that kept them close together but a steel cable that looped between them, and up through a D-ring on a leather collar that Levi was suddenly wearing. While it allowed some free movements of his arms, the cable was connected to a pulley system on the ceiling at the back of the cell, making him feel like a fish at the end of a rod.
It was unrestricting for now. Levi could walk from corner to corner, listening to the reel spool and unwind, never going slack with its constant tension. He wasn’t certain how far the lead extended, but he recognized the potential it had for wrapping around an opponent’s neck, acting like a garrote.
There was a sunny thought.
Perhaps he could fake an injury and get a poor sod to come in before he struck. Whoever entered would require a key and that could extend to the medieval contraption around his throat. At the very least, he’d kill one more coven member, and while violence was not the answer to healthy coping mechanisms per Hange, he couldn’t deny it’d make him feel much better.
Any opportunistic thoughts were soon banished as he heard heavy footfalls heading in his direction, rushed and ladened. Feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle in warning, he pushed off the wall to his feet, narrowing his eyes as not one nor two vampires appeared, but four.
The man that had been assigned his current guard withdrew a set of keys from his pocket and approached the door, eyeing Levi with disdain. It seemed the grim would get a chance to test the garrote theory after all. Undoubtedly, the others would jump him, and he would be in a new world of pain, but thinning the coven always brought a wicked smile to his face.
“Ah-uh. Don’t even think about trying your games,” the guard exhorted with twisted lips, showing fangs in warning.
Levi’s face creased into a vicious stare but before he could spit a snide insult, another vampire hit a button on a small hand-held device.
The fraction of a second where the cable reel began to retract was hardly any warning at all. The cord went taunt and raked a burn across the side of his exposed throat. His cuffs snapped together, then simultaneously jerked upwards to the D-ring of the collar, where Levi’s knuckles smacked into the underside of his jaw. With no spare slack in the line left, the motorized leash strung him backwards with unforgiving force, causing Levi to shamble blindly but ultimately failed to keep his feet under him.
He landed hard on his back, but still that didn’t slow the spool down, wrenching him across the concrete floor and choking him until the back of his skull hit the wall--and then it pulled upwards. Ungracefully, it strung him aloft until finally, the contraption froze, leaving the grim standing on his toes with the collar restricting his airway. He was stretched as far as he could go without being strangled, hands stuck under his chin and new aches already alighting over his body.
Breathing heavier from the short attack on his dignity, Levi tried to recover some image by growling at the chortling vampires whose fangs glinted with glee.
“That worked better than expected.”
“Miss Lara will be pleased to hear it.”
“Psh, we should’ve recorded it to show the others.”
They approached without an inkling of hesitation which only pissed Levi off further, loathing how helpless he appeared for them to practically swagger toward him. All it succeeded in doing was making him eager to correct their impression of him the first chance he got.
As soon as one was within very close reach, he sideswiped his leg into the bend of one’s leg, causing it to buckle where Levi followed up with his knee to their face. The crack of the hemovore’s nose crunched pleasantly but his satisfaction died as another’s fist sunk into his wounded abdomen. A pained gasp ripped from his already strained throat, but the contraption kept him from doubling over and protecting himself.
“Hey—don’t beat him too badly. Lord Tybur won’t be pleased.”
The vampire who held the remote helped the other off the floor while the guard with the keys sneered at Levi, weaving his claws into the shifter’s hair and yanking it back.
“You’re lucky you’re the master’s pet. I’d like nothing more than to drain you out slowly on the floor, you heathen.”
“I’d like nothing more than to rip your ugly face off myself,” Levi snapped, trying to jerk his head free of the hold. “But looks like we’ll have to take a raincheck on both options.”
“Cocky little fucker.” He sent another fist into Levi’s stomach, making one of the other vampires sigh dejectedly while Levi was forced to take the abuse upright. “Here’s to hoping Lord Tybur grows bored of you and lets us have our fun when we finally put you down.”
Then, with no warning, a syringe bit into the meat of his thigh causing him to jump. He didn’t need to wait long before he recognized the substance infiltrating his veins.
Clenching his eyes shut, he tried to swallow down the panic and the desperate fight instinct demanding he thrash at the restraints. Wasting his energy or injuring himself further would only work in making things exponentially harder, which he could not afford. Devils be damned, allowing these sods to incapacitate him with a blocker dose wasn’t any fucking better, was it?
“That’s a good dog. Enjoy that little hit for a spell. Could you guys imagine if someone got addicted off this crap?”
Levi snapped his eyes open on a warbled growl and lashed a leg out, right into the vampire’s crotch. The guy doubled over as an oomph slipped out, falling to his knees after releasing Levi’s hair.
“Kneeling’s a good look for you, leech.”
The vampire’s eyes flashed red, a snarl curling over sharp adaptive hardware that was centuries old. Furious, he lunged upward with his clawed hand ready to open Levi’s exposed gut when one of the other coven members seized his wrist.
“Enough, Simone! Stop being baited by the mutt. We were given our orders.”
“This mongrel is a waste of time to deal with! We shouldn’t have to babysit him when there’s other things to do for the coven!”
“Yeah? Wanna tell that to Lord Tybur?”
The guard cowed almost immediately. Picking himself off the floor after yanking his arm free of the other’s grasp.
One of the others sighed and stepped close to Levi, almost pressing himself against the grim who couldn’t tiptoe away. Annoyingly, it didn’t allow him to retaliate or get another kick in, but given his position, Levi figured the few successful attacks were more than he expected to land in the first place.
A clip behind his head unsnapped from the cable on the ceiling. The wire that was looped through his restraints was unknowingly hooked onto the back of his muzzle where the vampire intertwined around to the D-ring of the collar to snap in place. It successfully kept Levi’s hands in an awkward position near his throat, and when he pulled, it tugged on the back of the muzzle, digging into the bridge of his nose.
Once he was no longer attached to the ceiling abomination, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes before the guard, and another, seized his biceps and dragged him out of the cell. They certainly weren’t taking chances of Levi getting the upper hand, either by learning the layout of the foreign building, having any movement other than to walk, or access to his hellhound abilities.
Vulnerable and dependent, just how Tybur liked him.
They guided Levi up a staircase that entered onto a level significantly warmer than the basement. There were a few twists and turns that weren’t exactly helpful, but the aroma of a fireplace and leather hinted at an entertainment den of some sort. The idea had him swallowing despite his devil-may-care demeanor, as memories of being strung up for dinner parties flooded over his mental mapping.
Thankfully, they continued through the floor plan, moving into another room where the floor took on a flagstone texture from the previous wood, and then into another transition that was similarly cold beneath his feet. Was it tile?
Oh, he hated tile.
What a ridiculous and awful way to start this.
He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or mourn that stray thought because he knew tile was a material which was easy to clean. Could spill blood and not worry about warping quality wood or staining carpet. The worst was cleaning the grout, but still it remained the simplest alternative while maintaining the ostentatious décor.
He was led with purpose to a spot where the coven members halted abruptly, all while guiding him with their bullied strength onto his knees. Here was where Levi struggled, jerking his body out of their grips, claws snagging on the fabric of his tattered sleeves to hold him in place, despite how he pushed his feet under him to stand.
Not having the patience for his bullheaded resistance, one of them seized his hair and slammed him sideways onto the floor, ignoring his spat insults as his legs flailed in hopes to clip one of them. Another person took advantage of his vulnerable position, gripping his ankles and yanking him back into place where a third unlatched the end of the cord and connected it somewhere else.
He could sense all four vampires simultaneously retreat from him once certain he was secured, though he didn’t rush to follow, choosing to regain his breath instead.
“Have fun, cur,” sneered the one he recognized as Simone. “Maybe piss him off enough and we can see about those pitiful threats of yours.”
Levi didn’t deign to answer, getting off the floor with as much grace as having his hands bound allowed. He heard the soft pads of footsteps leave the area, though could still smell that he wasn’t entirely alone. One of the vampires lingered to watch him, no doubt, but he ignored them, choosing to test the limits of his new leash.
The cable that was attached to the ceiling mechanism was angled downward to the floor, not allowing him any leverage further than his kneeling position. Even with the blindfold stuck in place, Levi was already painting a hauntingly familiar picture of where he was. The only good news he had was that the new attachment allowed the cuffs to zipline from the collar to the industrial ring bolted into the floor, so he wasn’t entirely vulnerable, so long as someone made the foolish mistake within that linear foot and a half of length.
Deciding to test his luck, he made a move to take off the blindfold, but the vampire hissed out a warning, followed by the threatening zap of a taser near his head.
Fine.
As much as he loathed the theatrics, he would wait. He knew how to pick his battles.
Quelling his nerves and hoping to soften the raw edge of his panic, Levi inhaled with 8 second counts, doing the same on the exhale. It was a trick Kenny had taught him when hunting, and he had no idea why now of all times he recalled it, but it was helping. Enough to feel like he fit his skin a little better, not itching to thrash and spook at the faintest sound near him.
There was no telling how long he kneeled there. The new guard was quiet and only invested minimal effort to keep Levi in place. Resigned for the inevitable, Levi knew there was no getting away from it. Not unless he lost consciousness, and short of smacking his skull into the tile floor until then, he didn’t see that option playing out in his favor.
Eventually, and all too quickly, a screech of a door hinge cut through the stillness followed by gentle steps clopping on the tile. Despite the generous time allotted to gather his composure, the faux calm slipped through his gasp as every muscle tightened, breath falling into a deeper rhythm matching his heartrate. Instinctively, he clamped his jaw tight, feeding the urge to shift or summon heat to his gums regardless of the steel muzzle, but the blocker was thick in his system, paralyzing his hellhound traits.
It didn’t matter that the leather and rubber tread shoes were soft compared to the guards’ or the trailing clips of heels. They sounded like gunshots or the ticking down of a clock the closer they got. With far more effort than Levi was proud to admit, he kept his blinded gaze ahead repeating he would not give this sick fuck the satisfaction of getting under his skin.
Tap… Tap… Tap.
The pace was leisurely like a stroll and Levi allowed himself to swallow one more time before they reached him.
It was the scent that assaulted him first, perhaps because that was currently his strongest sense. Exotic floral notes of ylang ylang which bordered on a custard richness, seasoned with that all too metallic aroma of blood that clung to hemovores. The showy cologne was one Tybur had worn for nearly five years, completely ruining the scent for Levi, just as Lara’s own perfume wafted toward him like an afterthought.
An invading finger hooked the fabric of his blindfold, jolting Levi despite his efforts to smother his anxious reaction. Then it was ripped off, ruffling his messy hair that fell over his temple like a veil and bringing the unknown dining room into focus.
He refused to look up at the vampire monarch, glare already deeply engraved into his features as he stared ahead. Blood pounded loudly in his ears, trying to drown out the hum Tybur let out as he immediately combed his talons through Levi’s inky strands, appreciating the neat cut. Always touching.
“Levi, aren’t you going to be polite and say hi?” he asked playfully, not moving from where he loomed at the shifter’s side.
He didn’t move. Didn’t answer. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he could.
Inside he was a jumbled chaotic mess of emotions. A conflict of hatred, dread, and apprehension; a storm that all intents and purposes made him hesitant to act out in his unfamiliar circumstances. After everything that had happened between them, there was no denying that something had shifted since his repossession into the WMC shelter.
“Don’t be coy, Levi. I know you’re not playing mute anymore.” His fingers ranked along his scalp, tugging strands free from the muzzle while going from roots to tips. The touch wasn’t unkind, but Levi knew it could change in a heartbeat. “Your haircut suits you, sweet boy. Much better than the straggly mess you had before. If you behave, we can keep you neatly groomed. I’m sure it’ll make you feel much better.”
Levi clenched his fists into his lap, white knuckled and damp palms. It was a pitiful attempt to hide the tremble, but it was all the options he had.
“Lara,” Tybur called cheerily, shifting one foot away from Levi to face his sister. “Would you mind going to check on supper?”
Cutting his eyes to the corner of his peripheral, he spotted the woman’s stupidly excessive heels that he loathed. He always speculated she knew his dislike for them and chose to slip them on whenever she could, just to piss him off.
“What’s the matter, pet?” she asked while sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed.
One would think she was on a throne with the way she measured him down the length of her nose. When he didn’t answer, she clocked the leather shoe under his chin to force his head up from his chained position on the floor in the study. Meanwhile, Tybur spoke business with his co-conspirators in the corner, unawares of Lara touching his toy.
“Louboutin. Miss Z Slimimule collection. You like?”
Levi grumbled and jerked his face from the perch of the toe, half tempted to rake his muzzle over the pretentious leather just to scar it.
The dismissal twisted her mouth into a frown, and quicker than he had time to react, the red sole jammed into the side of his neck, knocking Levi onto the floor where she pressed down on his throat.
“When will you cease being so rude? I swear, Willy spoils you too much. You have no discipline. At the very least, it’s polite to offer a fake compliment.”
Levi refused to give her a vocal response, writhing under her foot to be let off the ground. A few guests sharing the room were drawn to the scene, laughing to themselves at Levi’s humiliation.
The ridiculous, red-soled heels reminded him of Lara walking through a puddle of blood to obtain such luxurious footwear, like a brag of how untouchable the coven was with their victims. Between her cutthroat nature and dabbles in unorthodox experimentation, it was not a far description.
“You’re lucky I don’t make you lick them clean, beasty. If you want my advice, start showing gratitude for all we’ve done to keep you alive. You never know what would happen if Willy ever got bored of dealing with your resistance. Maybe he’ll finally hand you over to my custody where I can see what quality of leather I can get from your pelt, hmm?”
“Fine,” she answered her brother, irate for having been sent on a menial task. “I’ll be back shortly.”
The everlasting red shade winked at him as she walked away, causing Levi to divert his gaze to the table he sat in front of.
Finally, the offensive hand unwound from his hair as Tybur walked a loop behind Levi. Stiffening at the threat out of sight, he held firm in his stance, resisting the nagging voice telling him to turn around and put eyes on the predator at his back. When the chair legs scraped against the tile floor on his right, he at least managed to avoid flinching as Tybur settled in his designated place.
Head of the table. Levi at his feet.
Yup. Real fucking familiar all right.
Clenching his teeth, Levi turned his head away from Tybur's knee, trying not to think of anything other than keeping steady breaths while waiting for something to happen.
Seemingly not deterred by Levi’s dismissive shoulder, Tybur rattled on like he was entertaining an audience. It was only Levi and the guard who waited in the corner of the room, likely there only as Levi’s handler. It was silly that they thought it was necessary when he was strung up like a turkey on the floor, but he couldn’t deny the flattery of being a considered as a potential either. Yet, at the same time, if he wanted to find an opening, these extra precautions were going to be a problem.
“I must say, your little stroll of freedom appears to have done you some good. You look healthier.” A spindly finger reached out and traced a nail over Levi’s brow, curling to map over the sensitive eyelid.
Levi stiffened impossibly further, not daring to move away. Tybur would only use that as an excuse to cut him on purpose and call it an accident. His face was already aching and scabbed from the wolven claws, and he couldn’t be sure if anyone restitched the gnarly gash in his cheek.
“I’m sure you’re not exactly excited to be back, but I want to extend a truce.” The hand left his eye, tucking a longer strand of hair behind his ear which fell back into place. “Our grudge against one another—while tasteful as most rivalries usually are—isn’t how I wish our relationship to progress.”
“What relationship?” he asked, mouth running away before he could stop it. “Nothing’s changed. I still want your death.” He swallowed the slew of insults wanting to tumble out, not ready to escalate things just yet. The unknown was eating as his composure.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. We’re more alike than you’re willing to admit, but I know you recognize that. Our ambitions to playing games against each other is practically engrained into stone at this point.”
Levi wanted to shake his head, loathing how Tybur always viewed his torture as if it was nothing more than a silly playdate. Granted, Levi wasn’t delusional. He understood his place as a toy after refusing to be Tybur’s lacky. There was a choice granted to him that he shoved back into Tybur’s face, but that didn’t mean he had to accept it.
“So what? Gonna want me to play nice like a good dog?”
Tybur hummed thoughtfully, one leg crossing over the other as he reclined comfortably on the chair. Meanwhile, Levi tried to ignore the ache building in his knees across the hard surface.
“I’m not delusional to assume it’ll happen overnight,” he started casually, dodging the question. “We have a lot of work to get you back to ground zero where we can restart your training.”
His lungs seized, eyes flicking toward Tybur’s face for a fleeting second before landing on the table leg.
“Training?” he croaked out, sounding thinner than he intended.
“I’ve read over the notes from WMC,” he went on to say, again denying an answer. The chipper inflection had diluted to a flat pensiveness. It felt smooth, like the surface of glass and it made Levi not want to trust it. “Granted, I had recognized the un-intentional conditioning affect I’ve had on you, it was never an issue at the time to correct. But after seeing the potential of having you play along more willingly, I think it’s something worth pursuing.”
“What?” His breathing was falling into shallower depths, knuckles turning ghostly as his fists were balled tighter in his lap.
Like a physical manifestation, Levi felt Tybur’s gaze rake over his profile and it felt jagged. Sharp and prodding like a porcupine quill ready to jam into a tender opening.
When Tybur finally answered, his tone sounded forced, overly sweet when really it was poison.
“Together, Levi, we’re going to work on desensitizing you to my feedings. If I’m going to have you at my side, you’ll need to get over your... tantrums whenever it’s time for us to eat. Now, I’m not unkind...”
Levi jumped when he felt Tybur’s touch reaching through the bars of his muzzle to test the sensitivity of the gash. It pissed Levi off knowing he still wasn’t able to bite the offending digit off even if he tried to turn his head.
“I know it’ll take a lot of effort to get you over your hang-ups—”
My hang-ups?! That you created?!
“—but we have all the time in the world. Your precious reaper won’t be coming to collect you back.”
“Is that what this is about? You're fucking intimidated by Erwin?”
The finger stilled, just over the gash that had popped stitches. When Tybur didn’t answer, Levi let out a humorless chuckle, ignoring how his body was shaking at the threat of more mild games that the vampire had planned.
Devils, please don’t put him back in the White Room.
“Just because you framed him for murder, doesn’t mean shit. He’s smarter than that. All you’ve done is bought a little more time for yourself--” Levi bit back an undignified yelp when the nail dug and twisted into his cheek, ripping open the partially stitched wound further as he jerked his head away.
“Do not speak of him in my presence,” the voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.
He would later acknowledge that this was the point where he fucked-up. The vampire’s shift in demeanor was the equivalent of a forest falling silent as a predator approached, but his heartbeat thumping in his ears left him deaf to the signs.
Feeling like he swallowed acid, and livid with fresh blood leaking down his jaw, the shifter leveled Tybur with a venomous look.
“You’re fucking jealous of Erwin, aren’t you? Admit it. That’s what this is about. You wish I was as friendly to you as I am to him. Upset that your toy is put to better use with Erwin who appreciates it and has more fun, right?” He ignored the voice telling him to shut up as he openly laughed at the vampire, knowing how ugly his flavor of hatred was on him, “Envy suits you, shithead.”
The room was plunged into silence, Levi’s words ringing soundlessly in a way that birthed a sense of regret. Not in the form of guilt, but the way the realization that ‘no, you really fucked yourself this time’ sobered the flailing emotions.
He could feel his shoulders shaking, knew his hands were still trembling, both from adrenaline and now the impending punishment he sensed was about to crest upon him.
It was then that Levi realized that all this time, he was mentally prepared to encounter the coven head while Tybur was in a cheery mood. Prepared for tasteless gloating, feigned friendliness that was ingrained in the man’s status, or even demeaning insults and unwanted contact.
He was not prepared for a furious coven monarch to stare him down with a fraying thread of control keeping him from decapitating Levi on the floor.
The clips of heels announced Lara was back who halted at the entryway sharper than intended. She looked between her brother and Levi, sensing the dire change of atmosphere before reporting hesitantly, “Our meal will be another 10 minutes. They’re cleaning up now. We did arrive home sooner than they expected.”
Tybur didn’t show any acknowledgement to her. Still staring. Levi refused to cower. He refused to dim his glare, ready to accept whatever Tybur dished out. It wasn’t like it was anything new. Levi was familiar with pain. He didn't like it, but he knew how to make it through to the other side.
The vampire finally broke from his marbled pose, beckoning the guard with a single gesture that conveyed more than Levi could decipher.
Before he knew what was happening next, the latch was unclipped from the floor, wrapped around the henchman’s palm, and Levi was half yanked, half towed off the ground. With a bruising shove, he was forced backwards with an unnatural arch of his spine over the table, porcelain rattling and two crystal glasses toppling over as the folie table linen bunched beneath him.
Levi thrashed against the manhandling, trying to kick with warbled growls, knowing his eyes were wide and wild. The guard wasn’t hindered by the blocker drug, nor was he exactly considered small. Pinning his right wrist over his heart, Levi’s left arm was shoved as far as the cable allowed to the side until his knuckles lay flat on the table.
Snarling behind the muzzle, he snapped his glare at Tybur’s hollow smile, hating how the honey locks fell over his shoulder as the vampire tilted his head appreciatively. With too gentle hands, he teased up Levi’s sleeve to observe the seal on his inner arm, running cold fingers along the ink. It felt feverishly hot under the invasive touch, like the worms were back and writhing under his skin.
“Were you a willing recipient of the seal, Levi?” he queried, tone feeling too husky in the moment to promise anything good. “Were you a little whore, giving yourself to Smith when you already have a master?”
Levi couldn’t form a response, his brain oscillating between barking threats at the vampire or trying to get off the table.
“You don’t know how much I want to burn this wretched thing off you,” Tybur hissed, pointed nails grinding into the meat of his arm. “But doing so wouldn’t eradicate the bond completely. That pigheaded reaper has his hooks in your soul, so that negates killing him if I want you to survive. Lucky you, indeed. Playing Smith’s little rent boy.”
Maybe Levi should have been more concerned about the fact that if Erwin died, Levi would too, but the severity escaped him as Tybur leered over his arm, hair tickling along the bend of his elbow.
What was he--? What was he doing?
“Fortunately, that doesn’t mean I have tolerate looking at it.”
Tybur exposed his palm over the table as Lara approached, plopping a tool into his hand that was already premeditated for that very moment. Turning it in his grip, Tybur held it inches above Levi’s face so he could see the way the edge caught the overhead light.
A goddamn potato peeler.
He wasn’t fucking serious...
The vampire holding him down shifted a little more to give Tybur room, but Levi didn’t need any more warning. He understood the man’s intentions which sent his stomach to his throat and cold dread to settle over him.
“Deep breath now, Levi,” he sneered bringing the utensil to rest on his arm. “I want to hear you scream.”
Levi opened his mouth to demand him to stop. To plead or beg or just wait, wait, wait—but a wrecked cry tore free from his lungs as Tybur made the first clean scraping motion over the seal. Another scream ripped out of him like it was being physically pried through his vocal cords when Tybur followed up with another swipe. Somewhere in the room, Lara called out for assistance, yet all he knew was blinding hot pain as Tybur stroked the peeler over and over his inner arm, removing a layer at a time. More hands anchored him down as he thrashed in a wild frenzy to escape, and blood squirted on his face and everyone near his head.
It was stuff of nightmares for him between the agony and the vampires hovering over him as the peeler nicked his artery, causing rich, hot fluid to spray like a morbid Jackson Pollock painting. He was reduced to Tybur’s own recreation as the perfect subject. Had Levi been more in his head, if he wasn't a bordering feral and cornered victim terrified out of his mind, he likely would have threw-up his meager sandwiches over himself. Even choked on his vomit as he broke out in feverish sweat.
Calm down-calm down. Faster heartrate, faster bleed out, were his broken thoughts as he blearily registered the pulsing pattern of this arm.
His head pounded, reality turning fuzzy. Tybur’s scraping eventually drew to a stop as he stared with open fascination at the blood pooling on the porcelain plate, staining the tablecloth and his expensive suit. It even clumped his blond strands, making them look stringy and unkempt.
Trying to slow his overworked lungs, Levi's brain refused to cooperate as his thoughts continued to zoom erratically. Here he was, bleeding out of an artery and numerous other sheered blood vessels and the fucking cunt was just watching. Why is he just watching? Whyishejustwatching?- Whyishejusywatching?
Devils, he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was it.
Not yet—not yet.
It was ridiculous. Absolute insanity, but realizing he was running out of time to kill Tybur before he met his death gave Levi a burst of adrenaline. A temporary increase in strength that knocked two vampires off him when he lunged upward with his right arm to rip out the monarch’s throat. Regretfully, it was short lived as the remaining vampire entrapped his arm, and nausea made an awful comeback—and yeah, he was going to die here.
He slumped and closed his eyes mourning that all of it was for nothing. That the last that he would ever see of Erwin was when he was running into a building after he saved Levi from being gleaned by another reaper. No more movie nights. No silly side quests out onto the property to play in the snow or relax by the river. He would meet his end on a damn table just as Izzy had.
During his delirious pity party, Levi barely registered something slipping over his arm and tightening around his upper bicep. Cracking his eyes open, he flopped his head to the side to see a torniquet in place, slowing the blood flow until it eventually ceased to a dribble. It did nothing to dilute the pain, but at least he wasn’t bleeding out.
Satisfied with the placement, Tybur tutted. “You’re such a mess, sweet boy.” He pushed Levi’s face, so he was staring at him. His neck felt boneless and loose, no control to put up a fight as the man leaned closer and licked his face above the muzzle. Blood, tears, drool. Tybur trailed lower, pressing the wet tongue to his weak but fluttering pulse.
“You’ll be good now, won’t you? No more whoring yourself out.”
Levi wanted to shout obscenities and crude insults at the bastard. Tell him to fuck himself with a dagger amongst other things, but his tongue felt swollen, words were shapeless, and the ceiling was out of focus.
When no answer came, and the hands retreated from him, sensing he had little to no fight left on the cusp of unconsciousness, Tybur shifted to the corner of the table, hovering over his shredded and abused arm.
He felt hot breath burn his exposed nerves and he gave a weak jerk to pull away.
“N-no—stop—”
Angled directly over the faintest hint remaining of the seal, an obscene tongue lathed over his flesh and muscles just before the fangs sunk through where the ink once lay. The pop was audible as they punctured into the meat. And it hurt.
It hurt so much more than Levi anticipated.
He always imagined that the sharpness would make the incision slice through like butter, but it was painful in a way that reminded him of rounded drill bits penetrating his arm. If that wasn’t enough to make Levi clench his eyes to avoid watching, the awareness that Tybur was actually drinking made him want to vomit all over again. Big, long gulps of his blood that were stored in his arm, unable to recycle toward the rest of his body. It was a literal pulling sensation he could feel at his core, and it fucking terrified him.
Grumbling something against his arm, Tybur reached up with one hand and unwound the torniquet just enough to tease blood through which made everything impossibly worse. Levi could feel it in his distressed heart, the way the 11-ounce muscle was trying to beat rapid pulses to control blood flow and feed the body with adrenaline, yet it was under assault. Blood was being vacuumed from the aorta, each gulp increasing the ache in his chest, stuttering his lungs as his head turned into a helium balloon.
Of course, Tybur was cruel about it.
He retracted his fangs and bit down again, and in between gulps, he would occasionally dig deeper, as if instilling his message that he could bury himself in Levi like Erwin’s bond.
Levi didn’t know if he was falling into shock. His trembling turned into spasms, body slumped across the table as his fight was literally drained from him. Never had he been bitten by a vampire. He hated it. Hated it so much and just wanted it to stop already.
Just stop.
Fuck, he was actually terrified. The utter hopelessness, the irregular rhythm of his heart, the way his lungs stuttered and panted.
Why wasn’t he stopping?
Inky spots were filling his vision through half-lidded eyes and the little bit of adrenaline he had left allowed a half-sob, “stop.”
There was another gulp followed by another before the fangs bit harder as punishment for his defiance. And finally, after eternity, Tybur retreated from Levi’s arm and fastened the torniquet into place.
It was strange to find it a mercy that Levi was slipping into unconsciousness. It meant he wouldn’t have to be in the monster’s presence any longer, despite being undeniably vulnerable. Even so, if something was going to happen, if his life was in more danger than what he just endured, he didn’t want to be present for it. The patronizing pets through his hair and the sickly-sweet murmurs from Tybur as he slipped away from reality was enough to be grateful for the escape.
If he was lucky, his final dream would consist of a white blanketed forest with branches laden in pristine snow. Sunlight glistening off the shimmery crystals and the soft crunch beneath Erwin’s boots. An invigorating breeze could stir up loose flurries, while hardy winter birds chirped and wheeled through the trees. Like before, Erwin would turn to look at him over his shoulder, chuckling as he saw Levi was using his footprints to tread behind him rather than carve his own trail. A toothless tease at his short height, followed by a disclaimer of how the man found it cute.
Death didn’t sound so bad if he could burrow in a wintery memory. At least there, he could meet his reaper one more time.
Notes:
A lot happened here! I got to the end and forgot how many perspectives the chapter had until I looked down at the first line being from Eren. 😅 Oh yeah... duh.
Anyway, hope everyone is having a decent 2025. Thank you for reading this far into the story and for all the Kudo's and comments! Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 33: Cowbirds and Coercion
Chapter Text
***
Someone had once told her, “Marrying a human who’s on the cusp of retirement is a dream position.”
Well, Anka wanted to tell that person that what they said was utter horseshit.
Sure, there was the unexpected, favorable companionship, the sweet dates such as taking a romantic ferry over the Sound with serenaded dinner, the maturity in conversations that was refined with age. Not to mention the stability of having a reliable spouse and-- despite the earnest disappointment of his murder--the pension she couldn’t deny was a hearty safety net.
Even supras felt the uncomfortable strain in that economy, unless you were one of the ambitious ones that got ahead of the group at the start of the Industrial Era. A downside to longer lifespans meant extended time participating in the labor force, and who didn't love spending centuries paying taxes? The prejudice and expectations that supras were naturally part of the 1% billionaires was another bullshit lie built by misleading media. Anka wished she had the foresight of investment opportunities, but like humans, supras were not omniscient.
All that aside, marriage wasn’t without risks. Hence why she found herself held by the collar and pinned against the door with her heels off the ground and scythe to her throat. She thought she avoided the odds of this outcome: Kept to her role as a dutiful wife while balancing her career as digital artist with big name tech. She did what was expected with very low ambitions of her own.
Apparently, there was something she overlooked or else she wouldn’t be staring at a very pissed off reaper. The question was: Where had she gone wrong?
She was a good wife. She took care of Dot just as much as he took care of her. Any outside favors or contact were so rare and inconspicuous that it hardly crossed her mind to acknowledge. Anka truly was living her life day-to-day in marital bliss. Her sister invited the couple for the holidays, and she remained in contact with her friends who had more investment in their own coven. So, to most, Anka had everything laid out perfectly after Dot’s proposal.
If she wasn’t scared witless, she would recognize she was experiencing some sort of cognitive distortion, but she didn’t feel that was the case. Perhaps, she was numb to the signs or maybe the scythe kissing her throat caused her to spiral in a ‘life flashing before your eyes’ moment.
The reaper, Erwin Smith, was so close, she swore she could make out her reflection in the cornflower blue of his eyes, see the details of her plum painted lips and bronze eyeshadow.
“I-I didn’t do anything,” she gasped. As terrified as she was of touching the reaper's forearm, she had no other choice if Anka wanted to avoid being choked out by her own weight and gravity.
“I didn’t say you did.”
The detachment of his tone did not match the fury in his gaze; thus she knew not to trust it. She wasn’t a gullible imbecile.
“Yo-you wouldn’t—you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think so. I know you’re n-not here to glean me for SRC.”
Her feet scrabbled at the wall for purchase but there was no toehold to help. The blouse rode up toward her chin where the tender spot beneath her jaw was forced to rest on the knuckle of Smith’s thumb. The skin contact with the reaper caused her to recoil internally as a whimper escaped.
While he was close enough to feel natural body heat that came with blood flow and regulated temperature, she couldn’t help but compare the frigid skin of his hand to a corpse. The sense of death a blight on her vulnerable flesh.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I’m here to talk.”
“You—you broke out of prison—to talk?”
Did he think she was a moron? That she didn’t know? His face was all over the news after that stunt trying to evade SRC through the busy downtown streets prior to his arrest.
A noise trying to pass for a humorless laugh squeeze from the back of her molars. “I thought you-you were supposed to be smarter than the rest of your peers.”
“And where did you hear that from? Pixis? Or someone else?”
“I don’t know who else you’re talking about.”
The hostility from the reaper was visibly folded and tucked away behind an indifferent mask which better aligned with his tone. He maintained his position looming over her in the icy doorway—much too cold to be blamed on the frosty air that intruded with his bullied entrance. The entire front of the house felt like it was plunged into another world with shadows choking out the glow of the recessed ceiling fixtures.
“As you’ve said, I risked further punishment to come here. If you want the Gods honest truth, I frankly don’t give a damn how deep I dig this hole... That alone should tell you how far I’m willing to take this conversation if you don’t cooperate. No strings on me to keep me in line.”
Anka’s heartrate kicked into an impossibly faster pace, and if it was feasible for her kind, she would have been worried about triggering a cardiac arrest. That was a blessing and a curse. Without a frail body to take itself out, it meant she was forced to endure whatever the reaper had planned.
“I haven’t done anything,” she repeated, a stronger echo than before. “Nothing!”
“Then why have your sister lie about picking her up from the airport?”
“I didn’t—”
“The security footage shows a driver was ordered to take her home.”
“No, that’s wrong! Look at it again, wait—stop!”
Her shriek and panic caused Anka to throw her head against the wall as soon as she felt the spine of the scythe nick the column of her throat.
“Stop! Don’t glean me!”
“I’m not here to play games, Anka. What coven do you serve?”
“I don’t! That’s public knowledge! I have no coven!”
“Your family served under Lord Tybur’s coven two centuries ago. It wasn’t in any digitized records because your sire and dam passed in 1897. Supposedly, your older sister and you stayed with an aunt before leaving for unknown reasons in the 60’s, however, your sister was accepted into the Halbrook Coven not long after moving to Washington state. You, on the other hand, chose to stay an anchoress to vagrant vampire broods... Or so the recent documents show.”
“It’s the truth! I swear loyalty to no bloodline. Just solitary vampires like myself. That’s not a crime!”
“No. It’s rather progressive thinking,” Smith agreed. “Still, it does nothing regarding your falsified whereabouts. If we’re talking about crimes, that’s already obstruction of justice and false statements to law enforcement. One would think being married to a Chief of Police, you’d be aware of that much.”
“I’m telling you; I didn’t do anything.” She knew she sounded like a broken record. Sounded like she was lying through her teeth, but there was no trust that the reaper wouldn’t glean her if anything else left her mouth than blatant denial.
Smith stared at her, eyes darting back and forth across her face, searching for cracks in her resolve. Anka could not be certain if he found it, but her feet returned to the floor. Then the grip on her blouse loosened as the scythe retreated. Good signs. Positive signs.
“Let’s take this to the living room.”
That was not so good.
The hand reassigned itself to her arm where he propelled her to the sofa that he pushed her down into. Then, with no regard for her vintage chest, made coffee table, he sat on top of it, cloak collapsing over his legs in wispy folds as he leaned on his knees with scythe cradled in the crook of an elbow. Their legs were nearly touching, making her feel just as trapped with the weapon now leering higher over her head. A pending guillotine. The wicked points of the elk antler were just as menacing as curved steel.
“Where were you the night of Pixis’ murder, Anka?”
With effort, Anka peeled her gaze from the scythe. “I told-told you. I was picking up my sister.”
“No. You weren’t. Did you kill Pixis?”
“Wha—No! I loved him! I didn’t—”
“Did you do it alone? Did he find out about your connection to the Tybur Coven or perhaps your connection to Romero?”
Anka swore there was a vice implanted in her chest, enfolding her lungs and making it impossible to catch her breath.
“You can’t do this!” she snapped, voice high and cracking as she fell unto defensiveness. “I-I’ll call the cops on you! You’ll go back to prison!”
“You think I can’t just walk out a second time, or a third, or fourth?” he challenged with a raised brow. Too calm. Too patronizing. “Your threats are nothing. Now answer the questions.”
She decided to adopt petulant silence, recognizing it was a gamble to assume he wouldn’t result to torture. Fugitive as he was, Dot always spoke highly of him, and the knight complex at the funeral during his intervention with the governor was further evidence. Then again, she recognized desperation and knew any precedence of one’s character became unreliable at best in such circumstances. These were such circumstances.
When she sucked her lips between her teeth, clenching the sofa cushions beside her thighs, Erwin straightened his posture from the encroaching lean.
“Maybe I’m not making it clear how much risk you’re in. Allow me to lay it out for you.”
The look in his eyes promised all manner of pain, a lack of mercy, and complete rigid control. Her fang nicked her lip but the taste of her blood barely registered as she refused to lose sight of the man’s every minute move before her.
“You recall meeting Levi at the cemetery, correct? When he also came to your aid? Of course you do. What a silly question,” he answered before she could squeeze out a response. “I’m sure you’re aware that he was my charge and I, his sponsor. Some would label him a pet, but if you were married to Pixis with any true sincerity, you’d know we don’t share that degrading view. I took my role seriously as Levi’s friend and protector from the system that’s been built against his kind.
Now, imagine how I felt when I realized that someone decided to apply underhanded techniques to take him away. It’s not even the fact I was framed for murder that bothers me, but what they have planned for Levi that I want answers to.”
A hand returned to the yew wood of the weapon where he absently spun it in his palm. The blade cycled overhead like a fan, shadow sweeping over her as it sliced through the lights. It took far more effort to not look up especially with the whoosh of the weapon creating a draft that tickled her bangs over her forehead.
“With that out of the way, what is your role in Levi’s removal?”
Her resolve crumbled as her eyes flickered up at the spinning blade, lazy in its rhythmic circle.
Whoosh... Whoosh...
Her heart was racing like a hare hiding in a bush from the encroaching fox. Swallowing her bloody saliva, she held her tongue, refusing to speak.
Erwin sighed, turning thoughtfully at his prided scythe, watching the powder blue ribbon twirl behind the blade.
Whoosh... Whoosh...
“Are you under the impression I won’t shred your soul in two because I’m supposed to be a good man?”
The hair lifted on the back of her neck as Erwin continued to stare upwards, waiting for her to answer.
Dot had always spoken so highly of Erwin Smith. How he was an excellent mentor that made Dot the superlative officer he became. The golden boy reaper who, in many circles, was lauded for his intelligence and knack for strategy. That he had an outstanding and honorable service in the military and had even contributed to key pivotal events in recent history. Hell, Dot would even tell her stories about how Erwin was the epitome of moral righteousness that many priests and do-gooders fell short of. In the same breath, the unspoken truth lay just beneath:
Ambition begets apathy.
Intelligence begets exploitation.
Just as there were many who praised Erwin Smith’s accomplishments, there were equal voices condemning his heartless drive and willingness to trample the line between acceptable and immoral. She had the sensation she was standing on that very tightrope now, trembling unbalanced and waiting for him to cut the line from beneath her.
He was not a good man. Not when it counted.
“I know what you’re capable of,” she whispered, breath fumbling on its way out.
His eyes landed on her, granite and unforgiving.
“You know, I find it curious that you haven’t asked why I’m here. Aside from the questionable footage from the airport, you must’ve expected I wouldn’t break out of prison just to ask you about the false alibi.”
Well, now that he brought it up, she realized how guilty her acceptance of his reasoning made her look. Like she had plenty of excuses to expect this encounter.
“If you want the truth, Anka, I had my suspicions you were hiding more than that, but it wasn’t my intentions to come here first thing. Not until my friend informed me that she learned Levi was taken to a foster pending further investigation and trial. Do you know who the phone number belonged to that was given to the SRC agent in the event they had questions about Romero’s murder?”
Anka was shaking now. Full body shudders that were impossible to hide.
The scythe came to a halt, antlers painting a thorny shadow over the reaper’s scowly glare.
“Where is he, Anka?”
Oh Gods, he knew. He knew, he knew, he knew.
A sting prickled her sinuses, and wetness dampened her lashes as a stray tear escaped down her left cheek. The corner of her lips twitched as she tried to clamp back on a building sob.
He knew. He knew.
“I will not. Ask. Again.”
Another tear, followed by another. The salty fluid had no end now.
“Pl-please. Please. I-I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“He’s not here.”
“Then where is he?”
“I—please, I didn’t have a choice! I didn’t!”
“Is Levi alive?”
She nodded her head jerkily, knowing her life depended on the answer.
“Is he safe?”
Hesitation. Then another shaky nod. The hiatus parted the reaper’s expression as fury abruptly returned in his narrowed gaze.
“Did you take him to Tybur?”
“Please—listen to me! I’m not with him or his coven—I swear. I swear! I’m not! I never wanted anything to do with him or your Levi. I just wanted to speak—to speak to my daughter. To keep her safe. That’s all!”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes! You don’t understand. I never wanted to have anything to do with—”
Through the thin sheer curtains veiling the window of the living room, the pulsing red and blue lights strobed the front of the house. Anka’s gaze jerked toward the silhouette of the first and then second vehicle pulling into the driveway as another parked alongside the curb, then snapped her attention to the standing reaper.
Smith didn’t look alarmed in the slightest as he readjusted his grip on the scythe, staring down at her.
Was this it? Was her time up? Surely, he would kill her and make a run for it before the officers could hear her scream.
“Tell me one thing,” he calmly broached, far too laxed given he had escaped prison on murder charges and police were at the damn door. “Does he have Levi?”
Anka considered her answer far shorter than she should have. Given it was possibly her only leverage to survive, she certainly withered under the looming epitome of death. Gods, maybe she was stupid after all.
“Y-yes.”
Smith’s jaw worked, but after an appraising handful of seconds, he turned away. No further word. No threat or attack. He simply walked down the hallway, melting into the shadows to what she assumed was his exit out the rear door.
Stunned and too terrified to move from where he placed her on the sofa, she flinched when the front door slammed open and agents flooded the entryway with scythes and guns at the ready. The first two entered the living room and called out to the others upon seeing her, weapons aimed at which she slowly raised her hands into the air, portraying she was no threat.
The next reaper that entered and pushed past the two agents was one she recognized, causing Anka’s heart to sink into that bitter acceptance. Any thought to tell them that Erwin Smith just escaped out the backyard died in her throat when she realized who it was that she was dealing with now.
“Agent Zacharias,” she greeted bleakly, hands poised beside her head.
The reaper looked exhausted with her pixy-cut appearing dull and flat and dark crescents shadowing beneath her eyes.
“Anka,” she replied curtly. “If it isn’t clear, we have a warrant to bring you in. Do you plan to cooperate, or will this situation be escalating?”
The vampire sniffled, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks. “No. I had a feeling this was going to happen.”
“That’s a shame. Get up and put your hands behind your back.”
***
The scent was all wrong.
Hell’s air was supposed to be bloated with acidic sulfur and ozone over that dry powder that came from cracked earth and gravel. That was what the Netherworld carried. Erosion and decay. Levi could perfectly recall the acute sting in his nose and obnoxious tickle in the back of his throat when he first visited the Netherworld, and he knew what it did not smell like.
It was not supposed to carry an odor of sterile wood cleaner, brandy, and roses. Not of lavish leather and sweet almond oil. Masculine and overpriced. His own personal punishment, it seemed. Right here in the living realm; a Hell just for him.
He didn’t know if he should find wry humor in that or pity himself for his appalling luck. His tightly bandaged and agonized arm would say the latter. Would probably even advocate for worse than the Netherworld if those tormented nerve-endings had a voice.
Since his first unwilling rendezvous with Tybur, Levi had the displeasure of being in the man’s presence at nearly every hour of the day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even in the study, so that Tybur could work on coven finances and other nonsense. Then the parlor to entertain his sister and long-time companion who was head of staff. Even to the man’s bedchambers during early morning hours when he caught up on the handful of hours of rest. Levi was vehemently trawled to every corner and bolted down on the floor to wait until Tybur finished his tasks.
Exposure therapy. Or so Tybur chose to call it.
Levi argued that it was mind-numbing torture—please, just put me out of my damn misery--which earned him a backhand or two for being cheeky.
Devils, what did that say about him that Levi was missing his hostile cell in the basement? Whatever Tybur’s plan was for desensitization and ‘healing’ Levi’s hatred for feedings was worse than other methods he was exposed to in the past. It hadn’t reached White Room levels yet, but listening to the monarch drone on with his inflated ego was getting damn close. At least, the man hadn’t forced Levi to sit in the bathroom with him while he was taking a shit or whatever. Small mercies.
This was fine. Really.
So long as he wasn’t in the White Room or being fed on, he could manage well enough. His atrophied sanity wasn’t being pushed through a meatgrinder, and aside from that first awful and nightmarish experience in the dining room, Tybur had stuck to eating culinary meals to ease Levi into accepting the combination of shared space with hemovores and their bloody nutritional needs.
On a strangely positive note, Tybur had backed the fuck off since then, and—if it was possible—Levi was certain he spotted a hint of shame when he caught the vampire staring at his injured arm. Although, Levi wasn’t a naïve by any means and recognized the off-kilter glance for what it truly was to Lord Twat: An unintentional setback.
For all Tybur’s pleasantries before about turning over a new leaf and appealing to Levi’s sensibilities, he had succumbed to his nature and embarrassingly lost control of himself. The fleshy indent in Levi’s arm was forever proof of that. A bitter reminder that the coven monarch could slip his façade without intending to by a simply stray insult.
Even though he was the one to suffer the consequences, Levi wanted to let out an ugly laugh at the vampire, but there seemed to be leftover chemicals in his system from the sheer amount of fear he felt. Enough to not dare testing the man’s limits a second time. Regardless, Tybur had limited the unwanted contact to a few touches a day and assigned lackies, both wolven and vampire, to change his bandages. He even extracted himself out of the room during treatment, though that was likely to avoid his own embarrassment rather than for Levi’s benefit.
Between the help with the wound and choosing baked foods for meals, it was oddly considerate if it wasn’t maliciously manipulative. The resentment from the painfully fresh encounter on the dining room table faded quicker with the gentler handling and endless shuffling around the massive house. It was, after all, exhausting to hold onto his resentment for days straight. Not to mention, the constant proximity and somewhat cordial, one-sided interactions were manageable, if relentlessly uncomfortable. Boredom was quick to overtake his anger when he had no one and nowhere to direct it at.
That’s what made his situation far more dangerous, though.
Once again, Levi was fighting an all too familiar battle with his subconscious; recognizing Tybur’s subterfuge to earn Levi’s acceptance through casual exposure, while being unable to do anything about it. Exposure therapy had already been proven effective through his and Erwin’s movie nights with Hange and other vampires, and Levi was far more in his skin around Tybur then he was prior to the last fighting ring. Acknowledging that fact and seeing his enemy use it for his gain was equivalent to swallowing gasoline.
Exposure therapy was productive, thus being used against him for whatever sick ploy Tybur was set on seeing through. This... companionship was a mockery of what Levi shared with Erwin.
The envious parasite.
So, yes. Things were certainly hellish for Levi fighting against his own brain with Tybur and his meals. He repeated to himself that the blood inside the baked goods or the slab of meat that was too raw for human consumption, was likely just that. A person whose remains were still inside the larder or freezer pending the next meal or dinner party. Reminding himself of that helped.
It also hurt.
Like picking at a soft scab until it bled. Remembering Izzy and the torment she suffered for years just to scratch out another day of existence before meeting a brutal and cruel end. Only for her misery to transfer onto Levi when Tybur discovered new ways to break the shifter down until he was choking on dirt and scraps of humanity.
But it helped. Like an iron poker shuffling the embers to a simmering fire. His rage brewed beneath his empty stare at the wall, retreating inward to avoid listening to Tybur chatter away about nonsense as if Levi ever gave a flying fuck in the first place.
There was a bright side to it all. Then again, that was what made hell even worse to endure. That tiny flicker of hope somewhere in the distance that there was an end to the suffering.
His spark of optimism came in the form of applying his garrote theory after two more days of being leashed behind Tybur’s heel. It was a success. The cable worked beautifully, scouring into the pale throat, finding the ridge of the tracheal cartilage to settle between, so snug that the vampire’s nails couldn’t dig underneath. The method was sound, although the timing was flawed.
Eh, Levi knew it was a risk. Even kicking out the legs of the guard that was Levi’s constant shadow, the hemovore recovered quick and pried Levi off a floundering Tybur.
Spitting out a glob of syrupy blood that got stuck on the wire of his muzzle, Levi pushed off the flagstone floor to his elbows and knees. A wicked smirk curled despite his failure, wild and victorious. Watching Tybur struggle to recover his breath with his disheveled hair and strawberry red throat made the internal injuries and busted face worth it. He would have to try that again with a better plan on how to simultaneously fight off the guard next time.
Swallowing excess saliva, his gaze shifted from the splatter of blood between his forearms to Tybur as he approached. The vampire's composure had mostly recovered, though still frayed with the torn collar of his shirt, and his mouth was downturned in a look of dissatisfaction. Levi smirked with blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth.
“Pick him up,” came Tybur’s cold order.
The nameless guard clamped his nails on the back of Levi’s nape, hauling him to his feet like a scruffed mongrel. The world did a sudden tilt in his vision from the hasty movement, teetering in odd directions. He blinked and stretched his eyes wider, trying to stabilize himself, but reality didn’t cooperate with his balance after the new injuries to his person.
That asshole really rattled his brain after kicking him into the floor. It certainly didn’t help when Tybur stepped forward and backhanded him, causing him to stumble to the side. The only reason he didn’t fall was that the guard still held onto his neck and kept him upright with his arms locked in place.
When he was steady, or as steady as he could be with a spinning vision, Tybur gripped his hair back as he imposed his height to tower over Levi, forcing him to look up. A thumb reached through the bars of the muzzle, scrapping over Levi’s bottom lip and pushing out to the side as the pad collected the blood. Levi made to open his mouth and bite at the offending digit, but it retreated a split second later only to disappear behind Tybur’s lips as he sucked it clean.
“Your insolence abounds, Levi. What’s to be done about that?”
“If you’d just die, it’d save me the trouble of trying again.”
Tybur gave a sigh through his nose as though settling himself after a silly threat. “I wish you would stop resulting to baser means of getting my attention, but you seem determined to push my patience and make me punish you.”
His index finger returned to the muzzle, hooking around a wire and tugging it side to side like berating a bad dog. It only pissed Levi off more as he tried to get his head free to no avail.
“I really wasn’t wanting to punish you, Levi. I’m trying to make amends here.”
“I don’t want your shitty amends,” he rasped, vicious glare trying to will Tybur’s tiny heart to pin itself against his spine. “I want your death.”
Tybur rolled his eyes, hard. “You're such a broken record, always whining about the same thing. Are you really set on pushing me? Fine. Perhaps this is my fault for overestimating your intelligence, hm? Should’ve known your little recess with that absurd reaper wouldn’t improve your temperament.”
He released Levi and stepped away, pulling out his phone to make a call.
“Sister,” he greeted as soon as the ringing turned over. “Are you busy?”
“Not necessarily,” her voice filtered through, lifting in question. “Why?”
“I was going to bring Levi down for a visit, if you have time.”
Levi stiffened, finding the unspoken implication discomfiting. Tybur wasn’t going to let her slice him open for one of her sick experiments, was he? Surely not. He was a jealous creature by nature—never liking his own sister to touch Levi more than strictly necessary to keep him in line. Then again, he had just tried to rip the man’s head off his shoulders with a steel cable, so there was that...
“Is this for my benefit or his?” she asked cryptically.
Tybur rolled his eyes again, meeting Levi’s gaze as if it was an unspoken joke shared between them about her unwavering persistence.
“His, Lara. Can we head that way?”
The disappointment was evident in her tone. “Yeah. Fine. I already have it set up.”
“Perfect,” Tybur purred cheerily. “See in you a second, sister.”
Hanging up the call, he slipped it into his pocket and slapped Levi’s shoulder good naturedly.
“How about a little field trip, hm?”
Just like that, he was guided two paces behind Tybur with the cable slack held in the guard’s grip like a vice. He considered digging his heels in and being an absolute nuisance the entire way, but he knew there was no stopping it. They would drag him or carry him to the destination no matter what dignity he sacrificed. It was probably better to get whatever punishment over with and maybe Tybur would leave him alone.
The route to the basement level was different than the location his cell had been. The only way he knew that was that the scents were stringent, acidic, and sterile; in the same way chemicals like formaldehyde and alcohol stuck to surfaces. A hallway at the bottom had cement walls and was brightly lit with various doors on either side but it was only the last door that they stopped at.
Tybur turned to offer a sanguinely smile at Levi. “Perhaps this will motivate you to behave for me. It’s worked well in the past.”
Opening the steel door, he swept into the room as Levi was shoved forward to follow. Just as he expected, it was Lara’s hobby room, complete with a counter and shelves filled with jars of eyeballs, a severed loup-garou paw, various vampire fangs, a fully bleached lycanthrope skull, and lumpy fleshy bits Levi refused to look too close at. Ancient parchments were stored on the opposite end of the room with faded autonomic diagrams and heavy tomes on a separate shelf. A desk was pushed into the corner with a new and sleek computer set up that had a landscape screensaver on from not being used recently and, in the center of the room, there were two steel tables.
One of which was occupied.
Levi’s eyes fixed upon the figure lashed to the table with Lara’s back blocking who it was as she cut into the man. The boots, standard issued and black leather, fluttered and smacked against the table though the restraints offered little more than a few inches of movement. A sound like an animal fighting for its life filled his ears, freezing Levi to the spot as his body refused to let out a breath.
Mike, Levi realized, unable to speak into the newly warped reality he was faced with. He wanted to doubt his own conclusion, but the voice was unmistakable.
He didn't know how they got him here. If Mike followed them or got close to wherever Levi was being held, but it seemed the universe loved to throw these curveballs at him to deal with.
Those around you tend to meet their end. And there is a lot of that, isn’t there, Levi?
Mike could not see him from where he lay on his back, eyes clenched and teeth bared in a savage snarl. A scream ripped deep from his chest cavity as Lara began to prod at an exposed rib protected by cartilage. The scent of blood overpowered the chemicals and was enough to snap Levi out of his stupor as he started to struggle out of the guard’s hold.
“Get the fuck away from him! Fucking get off! Stop!”
“Settle down, Levi,” Tybur warned, but he wasn’t having it.
“Leave him alone, Lara! Or I’ll rip your fucking face off and feed it to you!”
Mike seemed to not realize Levi was even in the room as his bellows tapered to listless groans that came from someone on the verge of passing out. Lara turned halfway around to raise a brow at him, blood splattered over her porcelain cheek and severe bun.
“Vulgar pet. Maybe I’ll rip that tongue out and put it in a jar. Willy can still have his fun with you as a mute. You’ve demonstrated that already.”
Levi growled deep in his throat as he tried to yank free, but the guard’s fingers were curled tight at the back of his muzzle and the cable was strung toward his lower back, making his hands glued to the collar.
“Enough,” Tybur mediated, stepping between them to stare at Levi. “Have I made my point? Your companion is at Lara’s mercy, and he will stay as such for the foreseeable future. His continued existence is dependent on your behavior. I really don’t need to spell it out for you. We’ve been here before.”
From his restrained position, Levi began to crumble inwardly. It was so much easier when the biggest concern revolved around his own life, but someone else’s in the balance? Someone Levi had a sense of loyalty toward? That was a privilege that catered to his hellhound ilk, regardless of Tybur not knowing the truth of it. The vampire knew enough that a stranger’s life held less value than someone Levi had come to know because Levi's life had always been starved of social interaction. He had few friends and those he made, Levi held onto with a vice. Not to mention, Tybur created and molded Levi’s apathy to strangers by forcing them into a category of survival or starvation. Of painful deaths that he was forced to witness, or choose to execute the victims with mercy.
What was the point of all of this if it would only repeat the cycle? Knowing what he did with Izzy, would it be a mercy not to prolong Mike’s torture? To do something reckless enough and allow his friend to die? The problem with that theory was, Mike wouldn't meet his end fast and painless. It would be pulled from him at the slowest pace possible, and wasn't that even worse? The idea of being the cause of Mike’s death paled in comparison when he imagined being in the lycanthrope’s position, having a sick alchemist-wannabe prodding at his insides with no generosity of anesthetic.
Fuck, he couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t be responsible for someone’s life. Not again.
As if sensing his degrading stability, Tybur hooked his finger through the muzzle and leaned close, so Levi was forced to look only at him.
“I’ll ensure Lara does not toy with him and keeps him fed with regular rations in a cell, so long as you stop your insistent disobedience. Play by my rules and no further harm will come to him.”
“You’re lying," he squeezed out, far quieter than he intended. "You’ll just let her splice him open and tell me otherwise.”
“I will not. You see that?” He turned Levi’s head to the camera mounted in the corner of the room, a small blue light staring back. “I have access to the live feed on my phone,” he turned Levi’s head to face him again. “At any point, you can ask for footage here or even in your friend’s cell and see for yourself his condition. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”
Behind Tybur, out of sight, Lara muttered something about external intercostal muscle that was cut off by a gushing wet scream.
“Okay-okay—stop!”
The scream continued and Levi forced his eyes to meet Tybur’s who watched him dispassionately.
“I’ll behave—I’ll stop—Just make her stop-”
“What do we do when we want something?”
Levi had no hesitation as he gritted out. “Please.”
“Lara.”
Mike’s agonized cries tapered into breathy gasps along with Lara’s childishly annoyed sigh. The sound of a scalpel smacking on the table hinted to how frustrated she was that Levi cut off her sick games. As much as he tried, Levi was unable to see past Tybur to check on Mike, still forced to stare at the egotistical smile that cut across his thread-like lips.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement. That bleeding heart of yours loves to get you into trouble. It's one of my favorite things about you.”
His voice was so gentle, and it made Levi’s skin crawl.
***
“So, being a bit of a vagrant myself, I still make an effort to stay up to date on all the juicy gossip when I can,” Hange waffled beside Nanaba.
She slouched on her elbow while resting her temple on her knuckles, shamelessly lounging on the table in an imitation to sitting. The odd posture—very unprofessional, as Erwin would badger—caused Anka to appear sideways in her line of sight. A smudge on her glasses blurred the dangling earing and part of Anka’s ruffled blouse, but Hange could not be bothered with cleaning it at that moment. Besides, she was 98% sure it wasn’t methanol from the embalming goodies in her lab. Well, hopefully.
“I mean, it helps having my fingers in a bunch of pies,” she went on to say, wiggling her free digits to get the point across. “GSIS, my teaching job, by extension many other professionals in my field...” Hange paused to let Anka digest the information before continuing. “As such, after asking around to some colleagues. I learned a few little tidbits about you and your time at Tybur’s coven.
Now, what I can do with that information is reveal what I know, but because you were Dot’s wife and I know how deeply he cared for you, we decided to give you the courtesy to come clean on your own and we can discuss plea deals. If not, we’ll still get to the truth, but you’ll be SOL.”
Nanaba sat patiently beside her, hands folded over documents stapled and paperclipped in a pile, ready to dismantle the stack and by association, Anka’s story.
After a courtesy call to Shadis in the wee hours, who was already awake dealing with the debacle from the Correctional Facility and their escaped jailbird, he made it a point to be present for Anka’s interview. Or as present as one could be behind the one-way glass.
Hange was more than happy to be on the current side of the mirror. She could only imagine how ‘horror house’ the dark room must feel with the elder reaper stewing in his impatience and simmering outrage. As far as she knew, Nanaba had given clear instructions for Jean and Eren to find something else to occupy themselves with to avoid cross contamination with the furious D/GSIS. The last thing they needed was the agents requiring a trip to the Employee Assistance Program to have a counselor walk them through their trauma after exposure to Shadis’ temper. Granted Jean would likely not be as affected by his fellow reaper kin, but there was no reason to single poor Eren out.
Ah, Hange was starting to space again.
Beside her, Nanaba had asked a question with key words of ‘Chief Pixis’, ‘night of murder’, and ‘death penalty’. Jumping right into it, it seemed. Giving no room for Anka to dance around the situation or modify her responses. Yeah, Hange needed to pay attention.
“You’re only going to get this offer once, so I’d advise you to think carefully about your answer,” Nanaba preluded, no-nonsense in every fiber of her being.
Like the seasoned agent she was, her reaper influence was tucked away to avoid polluting the interrogation, but her stern glower was on full display. As human of an appearance as it was, it still carried a hefty amount of intimidation, only enhanced by the knowledge that she was miraculously holding it together when her husband was injured and missing.
After a polite lull, Nanaba elaborated, “For the truth, SRC has reviewed the capital murder charges that have been submitted and is willing to offer an avoidance of the death penalty.”
Anka, wide eyed and pale enough to give the media-famous Dracula a run for his money, internalized the deal with little outward reaction. It was the same haunted look she had since Nanaba arrested her, and Hange couldn’t help but wonder if it was reality slapping her in the face or something their little lawbreaker said before GSIS arrived at her house. Knowing what Hange did of Erwin, she wouldn’t put it past him to say something that would shake Anka to her core.
“Again,” Nanaba repeated after a couple of minutes of silence, “avoidance of a death penalty. Only time it’ll be offered.”
Hange felt her lips downturn as she waited with her colleague, neither willing to rush the woman who was once considered a cherished spouse to their friend, but also not willing to waste more time. The plea deal was a risky maneuver, despite the agent’s confident delivery of circumstances. In fact, everything up to that point was a risk.
Charging Anka with first-degree murder was more of a bluff than anything. They had reasonable suspicions, sure. Her lack of alibi and obstruction charges were the only solid evidence they had at their disposal which would stick. The rest were legal speculation. Conjecture that Erwin was certain enough to bet his life on, but flimsy and useless in a court of law. Strange how contradicting such knowledge was. So powerful for someone to stake everything important in their livelihood on and yet worth dirt to anyone else. Talk about unfair.
Anka, being married to the Chief of fucking Police, would likely be aware of that. She could deny all of it and play a gamble that the unit wouldn’t find anything further to charge her for. The downside to it was that if they did find something, these cute little plea deals weren’t making a second lap on the table.
Another lovely risk that could backfire was that many supras would not agree that dodging a death penalty was a better option. There was a reason why capital punishment made a quick comeback seeing as incarcerated supras had to serve longer sentences than their human counterparts, meaning there was significant strain on economic resources. SRC saw fit to use their reapers to glean those with severe enough crimes that would otherwise be staying in prisons for centuries. Life sentences were never going to be an option, but maximum-security isolation was viewed by many as worse than death.
Humans had a hard time understanding why a near immortal would rather die than spend 200 or so years in prison. Even for supras, change was not a welcoming presence in their lives and a lot would undoubtedly happen in that timeframe. Reintegrating into society that had leaps and bounds of advancement, not to mention losing contact with your coven or pack, would overwhelm anyone. It wasn’t uncommon for individuals to have a mental break and end up in the system again when they lacked any social support structure.
Covens rarely accepted ex-convicts seeing as it put tension on their resources and reputation with the government, and wolvens, regardless of their citizen status, would spend a ridiculous amount of time on parole with WMC. Both covens' and packs' private activities would become government business as they monitored the parolee. Most supras would rather be gleaned than deal with it, just as most communities would shun an ex-convict.
All this to say, there was a strong possibility that the deal would be dismissed by Anka completely.
“You know,” Hange started, sitting up to mimic Nanaba’s posture, “we’re toeing the line of what’s acceptable with being in here with you. Seeing as Agent Zacharias is head of the unit leading the C.B. case, and you’re Chief Pixis’ widow, we could simply hand it to another team to discuss that night with instead. Would that make this easier on you?”
“N-no.” Anka shook her head for good measure, finally breaking her silence. “I don’t want to speak with anyone else.”
Good. Hange was hoping to rely on Anka’s longing for familiarity. That was more telling than anything that the suspect was scared. Seeking comfort even if it was with potential of confessing to someone deemed acquaintances or friends.
“Well, help us understand what happened that night,” Hange persisted, inflecting her tone to a gentle coaxing. “From our side of the table, it looks very bad, but we also know you cared for Dot.”
Anka’s head bobbed, bottom lip trembling as her eyes landed on the papers.
“So, help us help you here.”
“Can’t I just plea No Contest?”
Damn, damn, damn.
Nanaba interjected before Hange, “Is that what you want? To take that gamble and leave the sentencing wide open to possibilities? The prosecution won’t have any reason to hold back if you choose that.”
Hange’s nerves were rubber band tight, having been hopeful that Anka’s lack of legal representation would give them the means to have her slip up. Unfortunately, she was aware of how gentler plea deals could work for her favor without a lawyer filtering her responses.
“How will Lord Tybur take it if you were to accept a plea deal?” Hange blurted out before she could stop herself. Nanaba’s gaze slipped sideways but Hange kept her attention on Anka. Whether imagined or real, Hange felt her skin bubble in goosebumps at the ghostly sensation from behind the mirror at her back. Shadis did not like her taking charge, clearly. “Regardless of what option you were to go with, would he think you revealed something important about him? I think it’s safe to say that he already knows you’re here.”
Oh, gamble, gamble, gamble. Let the dice roll.
Hange really was hanging her ass over the fire. The question was: Would Anka clam up and refuse to cooperate, or would she seek protection?
The former agent decided to not let up when all Anka did was stare wide-eyed over her shoulder, hopefully at her reflection and not beyond the glass.
“If you were a willing accomplice, I can see how he would not be pleased to hear you being here. On the other hand,” Hange leaned forward, contorting her expression with softened eyes and scrunched brows, “we can always discuss protection for you and your daughter.”
Anka sniffled as her chin gave a short jerk back and forth in a negative. “My daughter is safe where she’s at.”
Confused what the motivation to Anka’s actions were, Nanaba opened her mouth, “Then what was—”
“Oh god,” Anka buried her face into her cuffed hands, hitching on a dry sob. “I never wanted this! I-I did everything to avoid this from happening.”
“What from happening? Let us help you, Anka.”
The vampire sniffled, wiping at her face as she gathered herself together.
“I was a part of Tybur’s coven, that’s the truth. I... I was married before Dot,” she admitted quietly, as though it was a dark secret, but marriage and divorce were not uncommon amongst and species. “He... he turned a willing human who we ended up adopting as our daughter. All parties agreed and...” She snapped her mouth shut, wiping furiously at her face. “Is the S-Statue of Limitations still 100 years for Supras?”
Hange and Nanaba exchanged neutral glances before the agent returned her attention. “For murder, yes. Felonies punishable for life imprisonment or death penalty is 70 years.”
Anka shrunk in on herself, cupping her palms over her face. It was a look of utter defeat if Hange had ever seen it.
“I was part of the Tybur Coven branch that was in Louisiana,” she eventually muttered. “My husband—he knew I always wanted a daughter but with work and everything else, we never discussed it further. It wasn’t until he mentioned finding someone that he wanted me to meet that I reconsidered the possibilities.”
“And you met Cynthia?”
“Yeah. She was a sweet girl who lost her family in Hurricane Audrey in ’57. You both remember how times were during then. Being a young, destitute woman with no support was a recipe for desperate decisions. I listened to her story, and we took her in--as just a human at first.
A couple of years passed, and it was like everything fell into this sort of slot, you know? I never intended to take a maternal role in her life nor for my husband to become so protective, but before we knew it, we had our own little family.”
“Who decided to make the official change?”
Anka sucked in a long breath, chest expanding while her gaze stayed on the tabletop. “My husband. He mentioned it in passing, but I dismissed it. We had only known her for a handful of years, and it felt far too soon to discuss such a permanent change with Cynthia. But he sort of kept pushing it. During dinner discussions, when we were out shopping, even looking at colleges for her to apply to. She was 22 at the time and wanted to complete her degree, which we supported.”
“Did it not raise concerns that he was rushing into it?”
“Not at the time. It wasn’t very direct when he did. Just simple comments like, ‘Imagine how her fashion tastes would be 70 years from now’. Or something small like, ‘I wonder where the three of us will be in the next century.’ Little things that put a light on how fragile what we had really was. That her life was so fleeting in the scheme of things and could be taken away at any moment.”
“So, you started to consider changing her.”
“We both, Cynthia and I, started to ponder it more and more. He was already for it. Eventually, we agreed, and we changed her.”
“So, what went wrong?”
Anka buried her face again as her shoulders shook. When she managed to squeeze out her response, her voice cracked on the single word.
“Everything.”
***
Levi was willing to pretend he was obedient—or at least tolerable to Tybur’s orders. Well...
There were no further attempts of the guy’s life, let’s just say.
There may have been a successful attack on another guard’s life, however. And really, it was that asshole, Simone, that made it no secret his hatred for Levi went down to the soles of his shoes, so he had it coming. It was unfair to expect Levi to tolerate excessive abuse whenever Tybur was busy elsewhere, as if that gave the weak-ego vampire an excuse to take it out on the shifter when the boss wasn’t looking.
That was probably the only reason Levi was taken to task rather than the punishment falling on Mike. Tybur recognized his pet was sporting new injuries and allowed his retaliation a rare free pass, just this once. Sadly, that was not synonymous with ‘you were defending yourself, so I’ll allow it’, because that would mean Tybur favored Levi’s wellbeing over his coven members. That was far from the case.
“You’re forcing my hand to make an example of you, Levi. This is your fault, not mine.”
Sure, Levi wanted to snark in the face of Tybur’s barely restrained glee. The guy was clearly looking for an excuse to do whatever he had in mind. Un-fucking-fortunately, it was a punishment that skyrocketed to being as bad as the White Room. Let no one ever claim Tybur did not escalate situations unnecessarily, as was his dramatic characteristic.
It wasn’t physical abuse--no more resurfaces of a potato peeler—and there were no additional non-consensual feedings over the healing arm, which still sported a faint contusion of ink that Levi was strongly protective of. That debacle was what Tybur called, “a brief lapse of judgement”, and as rotten as the vampire was, he never relied on barbaric practices with Levi in the past. He would rather throw Levi in the pits and have other wolvens do it for entertainment than get his hands dirty, and he certainly would never allow his lackies to touch him outside of authorized handling.
No. His new flavor of punishment was what he labeled: Systematic Desensitization.
Supposedly, it was meant to pair well with his little exposure therapy methods with Levi constantly being around him and the food source. Except now, Tybur did away with the actual dishes and brought out humans to feed on. To Levi, it made no difference whether it was consensual or not for the vectors. He recognized that while his experience of being fed upon was absolute agony, vampires could use their saliva to ease the discomfort and offer pleasure.
That didn’t stop him from envisioning Izzy every time someone was brought in for Tybur’s family.
If Levi was being completely honest, watching the children take turns with their nanny or tutor and grinning with blood coated lips made something unpleasant squirm under his skin. The paleness of the human never crossed their mind as one little girl held the nanny’s wrist and teased her brother over his piano recital. He recognized the brats as the ones who always hovered outside of his cell previously, mocking him until they got a reaction once his patience was driven to the dirt.
Being chained to the floor with so much stimulus around was miserable and as predicted he was sent into another panic attack. Even when Tybur made the foreign attempt to soothe him between mouthfuls of blood, or the human promised that he or she was enjoying it, the internal siren screeched danger and the weathered Pavlovian rage burned his insides. To make it worse, it was only during these times that Levi was given water and a warm well-balanced meal, usually complete with carbs, veggies, and meat.
He recognized the sly association Tybur was trying to craft. That subconscious undertone of eating nutritious sustenance was bound to create a positive connotation to Tybur’s own feedings. His body needed to eat, and his brain was a traitorous whore, weak enough to buckle under the manipulation.
Worst of all, he couldn’t deny needing the strength to stay vigilant until he found an opening to escape. The alternative to starve by protesting the food would never lead to death as an option. Tybur would find a way to rob him of even that. Truthfully, Levi wanted to avoid an escalation into such matters this time around. He didn’t think his sanity could survive a repeat of raw desperation for survival, nor the mercy killings that he felt were a morbid necessity.
It took some internal pep talk to convince himself to eat a little at a time. With no silverware and the muzzle still in place, it meant he was forced to be fed by hand which was further degrading. Levi would manage a few very reluctant and grumpy bites in the beginning but once Tybur started to eat, Levi would refuse any further advancements. For the time, it appeased the vampire enough to not push, but Levi assumed that too had a shelf-life that would expire soon. He wondered if they would hold him down and force him to eat everything one of these days.
His mantra repeated he needed to persist and disentangle from the shame he felt when eating the food shoved through the bars of his muzzle. Maintaining his strength was paramount to end this, whether escape or his own death. Foolish or not, Levi held out hope that Erwin or his companions were out there, not willing to accept his and Mike's capture, but he knew how slippery Tybur was with international movement. Levi just prayed he was still in the states.
Until something presented itself, he needed to focus on making it through each day. He could do it. He told himself that he could muster the mental fortitude to withstand these horrid sessions, to not risk messing up too much and endanger Mike to being spliced open on his behalf. It didn’t feel true. More like a joke at deluding himself than anything else.
Then, to escalate the situation, the sedatives were brought into play.
Bringing in hot blood donors was not enough for Tybur’s punishment or training—whatever he chose to call it given his mood that day. In fact, it became apparent he was banking on Levi having a meltdown. When he inevitably buckled under the mental distress of vampires and blood and humans hovering over tables, interrupting Tybur’s meal, the tell-tell pin prick and infectious spread of drugs took that edge right off.
It forced a pliant calm over Levi that made him wretch and spit curses between his bouts of panicked thrashing against the cable. Only when the sedatives crested over his thoughts, sinking him further beneath the waves of fear until he was surrounded by a thick haze, did he fall silent and still. Despite being docile in his double genuflection position, a pillow gifted beneath his knees for rewarded comfort, Levi’s heart thudded rapidly against his ribs, desperate for escape.
He got lost staring at the curiously patterned rug beneath the table. Moroccan or maybe from somewhere further north. Middle-east, perhaps. The designs seemed to pulse and writhe like a kaleidoscope, the tassels enlarging and shrinking near the D-ring in the floor. They looked soft and inviting, making Levi want to twirl his fingers around the woven strings.
What made everything worse was in his delirious state, where he wondered how Mike was doing and where Erwin was and why the colors inverted after flaring white, he caught himself having to lean on things to keep from falling. The solid support against his cheek slowed the spinning room and grounded him from the sensation of floating away. It made the colors stop hurting his eyes a little less too. Until he realized it was Tybur’s leg he was relying on, which made him jerk upright and away from the hand in his hair.
The world would tilt and try to dance out from under him, making him desperate for a chemical to make him pass out rather than this limbo of conscious hallucinations. A damp dream-like state where his movements waded through sludge and tongue was numb. It became a battle with himself just as much as Tybur. This coerced acceptance. The involuntary relaxed state-of-mind as his senses drank in the iron and ylang ylang scent while teetering in a disposition of wakefulness.
Three days of flirting on the edges of oblivion. Three days of delirium and haze and wistful sleepiness. Three days and, really the smell wasn’t as sour as he remembered. The pillow was soft, his arm ached less.
Three days and he was losing the fight, and it was brutal torture each time he woke up realizing what was happening. That Tybur was helping him tolerate the proximity to feedings. His own instincts and mental fortitude and hatred were crumbling under these fucking mind games and chemicals.
Levi couldn’t fight this. There were plenty of enemies, sure. But he couldn’t reach into his squishy grey matter and claw at old wounds to reopen them. To remind himself of why he did not want this. Why he depended on his raw hatred of Willy Tybur and why he needed to kill him.
Izzy. For Izzy and Furlan and Mike. For everyone who suffered under the fucking cunt.
Realizing he was becoming desensitized was not healing. It was cruelty. Absolute malice having his inner workings turned against him. It was fucking sick.
Every time he was left alone in Tybur’s room, resurfacing from the sedation, Levi would try to call upon his hatred and each time, it felt more distant. Like his limbs were fatigued and he had less strength to pull up the anchor that he’d clung to for all these decades of survival.
He wanted to kill Tybur.
That's right. That was still true.
He wanted to kill Tybur.
He needed to kill Tybur.
He was just so tired.
He missed Erwin.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted it all to end.
***
English ivy had since invaded the jagged glass of the windows, roots spreading up across defaced concrete walls tagged with illegible graffiti.
To most locals, the jilted brewery was a nostalgic image off the freeway. A vacant brownstone sentry over the Deschutes River that fed into the neighboring estuary. Ghost stories and wide abandoned boiler rooms lured many urban exploring youths searching for dares or places to shoot up. Some even attempted to dismantle what remained of the brewery carcass to sell for scraps but found little reward. One even died in their greedy endeavor.
There wasn’t much to reminisce about for Erwin. Not being local, let alone an American, he was simply looking for a refuge near the city and far from his cabin. Admittedly, the buildings were not the best option, given the security that occasionally dropped by to keep out wayward teens or squatters, but Erwin wasn’t helpless when it came to evading. There was also the added benefit of its proximity to Olympia and the GSIS office for discrete meetings.
The wintery breeze cut in through the busted windows, rustling the few brittle leaves along the hallway. He distractedly watched the dust specks hover and lilt in the intruding sunrays, oscillating with the gentle eddies the walls created. To his left, a threshold gaped with missing doors that led to the large warehouse stores. He could see old railings blocking off heavy machinery components, acting as the only source of color aside from the messy graffiti. He couldn’t be certain if the tone was teal or patina, but it caught his gaze more than once as Hange listed her findings from the hours of interrogation.
With nowhere to sit, Erwin ignored the dust choked walls and leaned against it, knowing the stollen sweater would collect more of the building in its fibers. He tried not to think about it or the imprint his back would leave along the tagged cartoonish pumpkin with a silver crown.
“So, her husband, or first ex-husband—”
“No,” Hange corrected. “Still technically married...”
“Right. Anka’s husband was grooming Cynthia and trying to warm Anka to the idea of it.”
The concept was sickening, and one would think far-fetched enough to never be effective. Although, given Erwin's three centuries of living, he was well aware of how situations like these might unfold. If the husband had been a bit more patient or subtle, he may have been able to wear Anka down to the proposition. Widdel away at her self-esteem and coax an unhealthy dependance until she believed her only choice to make him happy was allow him to do what he wanted with Cynthia. He was not a bit remorseful the man met his end by the same woman.
That did leave an interesting conundrum with Anka, however. Having killed her first husband, good intentions notwithstanding, and then being coerced to lure Pixis to his death, she was sporting a hefty black widow reputation.
While he was not sorry for a predator on a sexual level to meet his end, GSIS and SRC were not keen to ignore the fact it was still murder. The only hope they had to lessen the charges against Anka for protecting her and her daughter was for Cynthia and the aunt to make their own statements.
The issue was, Anka and her sister had fled Tybur’s Coven to avoid execution—a jurisdictional nightmare if SRC got word of the crime before the family head. Anka’s aunt promised to take care of Cynthia, thus any contact between mother and adoptive daughter was out of the question. For both of their sakes. Pulling strings to make it work now may still be in the cards, but with Tybur free, it left a wide door open for Cynthia to meet an unfavorable end if GSIS couldn't interfere in time.
Anka's story had then continued to the events after her husband's murder. Everything was fine for the following decades with her new life. Anka changed careers, refused to integrate into another coven and socialized with others who shared the solitary lifestyle. Vampires still being highly social creatures would gather in broods and do like-minded things together, whether feeding or hobbies, just to maintain a connection.
When Tybur’s international shipping company expanded to the Pacific Northwest, she had managed to stay under the radar for a few years. Of course, the socialite was quick to integrate into various levels of government and covens in the region, so she should have known better that it was only a matter of time before she was discovered. Anka told Hange and Nanaba it was a special visit to her own apartment by Lord Tybur himself who cornered her.
Her death was not what he was after, or so he said. She committed a crime against Cynthia’s sire and therefore against the coven, but Lord Tybur had a sort of... community service task for her to make amends with. She stated she tried to deny him, but was told that he would simply take the matter to the police and tell them her husband’s death was the work of her and her daughter. SRC would do what they would with them both.
Erwin understood that SRC, while having plenty of do-gooders and honorable employees, was still severely flawed. To be turned over by a coven monarch as old as Tybur, there were strong possibilities that bias would play a factor in dismissing Anka’s retelling. There would be a high need for a lawyer with skills, and her family to testify if they hoped to stand a chance against the charges. She obviously sensed the odds against her and therefore agreed to play Tybur’s game.
Her role: integrate into the local police department by any means and act as an informant for his company.
“She swore she did love Pixis,” Hange added solemnly, deviating from the report briefly.
“Do you believe her?” he countered bitterly, realizing Pixis had been a pawn far longer than Erwin would have ever suspected.
His companion mulled over her response, fingers fiddling with a yellow paperclip that she pulled from her pocket. “I can tell she cared about him. She didn’t want this. The way it ended. I think she didn’t want to marry Pixis either, but to me, it appears true feelings had developed regardless of intentions.”
Erwin had nothing to say about that. Nothing at all.
“Tybur would’ve tried to drag her sister into being blackmailed too. Aiding and abetting a criminal from his clan. But,” Hange gave a head shrug, “with her incorporated into the Halbrook Coven, he wasn’t ballsy enough to start a turf war for another planted spook. Even if his coven could easily absorb theirs.”
“Of course not,” Erwin leaned his head against the wall, staring at the mildew ceilings and hanging plastic light covering swaying in the breeze. An ancient cobweb dangled behind Hange’s messy locks that cascaded from a high ponytail. The cottony string looked like it was playfully trying to touch her hair the way it moved back and forth. “It’s not Tybur’s style to go in with brute tactics against another coven.”
All his records that Erwin poured over, along with his deduction of his character, told Erwin what he needed. Tybur preferred discreet infiltration where he dismantled covens piece by piece from the inside. By the time the coven realized that something was very wrong, the crucial cogs were compromised to the point of no recovery. Only then would Tybur swoop in like a savor and send over a representative. A so-called liaison to assist them in the rebuild, not knowing they were inviting a cowbird into the nest. Opening their arms to a spy that would be all smiles and consideration. A perfect member of the coven that would do everything to earn their trust only to trade those secrets back to their real master.
“There’s something else,” Hange hedged, altering her weight until giving in and squatting against the wall.
Erwin tilted his chin down, brushing his mused hair from his forehead that he was certain was askew. His hair hadn’t seen a shower, never mind a comb, in days. He wondered what Levi would think with his baggy zip up hoodie, old Nirvana t-shirt, and faded jeans from the local outlet store he raided with the handful of cash. He still had his prison shoes for Christ’s sake.
“What’s that?”
“Anka admitted all this on the condition that the prosecution does not pursue the death penalty, and she transfers Cynthia’s custody to her sister.”
Erwin found himself nodding before Hange finished, not surprised by the negotiation. “I wouldn’t want the daughter in the coven either if I was in her position.”
“We countered her offer, of course,” Hange went onto say, a secretive curl to her lips. “Well, I should say Nanaba countered her. You should be proud, Ervy. You trained her well.”
Curious, he tilted his head, feeling the tiny flutter of pride pulsate within. “Why do you say that?”
A toothy grin slipped free, appearing a bit too jagged and conspiratory. “Remember little Colt Grice? Nanaba told Anka that they would only get her daughter out and in protective custody if she or her sister could convince Colt to testify.”
Erwin jolted up and peered at Hange with pinched eyes. “Colt is loyal to Tybur. He’d never willingly testify.”
“Ah,” Hange held up a finger, hamming it up that she knew something Erwin did not. “But Colt’s sire and guardian—the one murdered in an alley—was supposedly a squeaky wheel in the coven. There were some topics that he voted against when it came to Tybur’s shipping company and random coven business that he had no qualms challenging. Curious that they moved to Washington and these new logistical expansions with Russia started to pop up, just as the political climate between nations started to get a bit toasty, hm?”
“So, Colt’s mentor likely knew of the trafficking. Or suspected. You’re thinking Tybur orchestrated the back-alley murder to look like a drunken accident at the bar.”
Hange lifted her brows, “You have to admit, it’s an easy way to get rid of a whistleblower. Stage it as a conflict with drunk humans. Keeps it at the lower jurisdictional level with law enforcement, not to mention, being downtown, it’s not exactly an uncommon crime. Then Tybur gets the added benefit of a young, impressionable fledging on his side to act against humans and stage murders. Cause conflict with policy and generate fear and discord with the public, meanwhile he’s left to his own illicit hobbies with his company while media attention is elsewhere.”
Erwin absorbed it all, feeling amped up with the high that came with the chase. He ached to be back in the field, eager to push on with the momentum and bring every careful plan of Tybur’s to ruin. Sadly, he could not forget his role in Tybur’s ploy, being a distraction himself and taking the fall of Pixis’ murder when GSIS started to sniff too closely to his secrets. Not only that, but Tybur also got a nice bonus with getting Levi back. A personal vendetta achieved.
“Right,” Erwin drew his bottom lip between his teeth as he chewed on it in thought. “So, Pixis must have realized that Anka was feeding Tybur information. The only way Pixis knew so much was his partnership on a few crime scenes and what Shadis reported to him. He was also there when Levi and I reported the bond was successful.”
“That’s what Anka confirmed. Pixis confronted her one night and she denied everything to him, but apparently, he wasn’t convinced. He left that night to go out for drinks, saying he needed time to think and Anka, in a panic, notified one of Tybur’s staff that Pixis may be onto her.” Hange’s prior excitement all but evaporated. “Tybur sent two people over to... handle him. Anka said one was a wolven and the other a member of Tybur’s security. She was forced to call Pixis out to the Capital under the excuse to talk when they attacked him.”
“And? Why the display? Why the brutality if it was just to keep him quiet? Tybur could have staged it to look like another random gun violence...” He paused and shook his head, closing his eyes as he answered his own question, “He wanted to scare Anka in keeping quiet.”
“That appears to be our assumptions,” she replied under her breath. “The brutality was from the wolven. A blond man who she didn’t get the name of. But... it was a day after the full moon. You know how it can spark a frenzy with shifters. I don’t think that level of assault was intended.”
Erwin wanted to curse his oversight of the moon. Here he was, thinking Pixis’ death was made personal or with intentions to hurt Erwin, but it was fluke timing. Or perhaps the answer was a bit of both. Either way, Pixis didn’t deserve that, nor did Anka—even if her foolish choice was her own.
“Back to Colt,” he redirected to safer waters. “Does she think she can convince him?”
“If Anka can’t, Nanaba is sure she can. Anka and her sister’s testimony of how Tybur keeps his members quiet, along with Colt’s knowledge of his mentor’s shaky relationship with their boss is a strong case to persuade him. He’s still very young and even if he has blind loyalty to Tybur, we can at least shake his foundation. Give him enough time to question things, avoid any chance for him to recalibrate, and he may agree. We’ll cut him a deal, just like Anka which should be lesser anyway given he’s barely out of fledgling stage.”
“Even so, you need to watch out for Tybur’s fixer,” Erwin reminded, not having forgotten the last time they brough Colt in for questioning. The older lawyer was renowned for his esteemed clientele and at Tybur’s disposal, it could rip the carpet out from under them.
“We plan to go to him with Anka’s sister first. Feel it out and see where he stands. From there, we’ll have a better idea of how to handle it.”
If they could get Colt to testify, along with Anka, Erwin knew they would have Tybur cornered. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do on that front as he was currently trapped himself. Until he could move freely, he was stuck to the shadows. Just as Tybur always liked to remind him of his place.
“What did she do with Levi? She knows he’s with Tybur, which makes me think she had a role in that.”
Hange groaned and sat back on her heels, arms resting over her knees and shoulders against the wall. “That same wolven that killed Pixis brought Levi to her, drugged out of his mind and told her to deliver him to Tybur...”
“And?” Erwin pressed when a pause crowded the hallway. “What happened to him?”
“You’re,” Hange cleared her throat and licked her lips to moisten them. An uncommonly nervous gesture. “You’re not going to like it.”
Expression turning to marble, he pushed off the wall and took a step forward, unintentionally looming over Hange. “Tell me.”
If she was concerned about his mulish posture, she never hinted to it. Merely appraised him over the rim of her glasses before sighing and rubbing her temples. “He managed to break out of the car. Took off into the forest about a mile out from Tybur’s place. The coven goon that rode with her to make sure she didn’t deviate from the plan was able to capture him and bring Levi back to the car. Then told her to keep driving.”
“She didn’t help him?”
“No. She said she was terrified and considered driving away. Go hide at her sisters or something but before she could psyche herself up to leave, the guy was returning with Levi over his shoulder.”
“Was he hurt? Where is he now?”
“That’s the one thing we’re waiting on,” Hange admitted. “Anka said she would give us the address to Tybur’s place. Supposedly, a house not on his books of ownership, but only after we bring Cynthia in to see her. Eren and Jean were tasked to get her and bring her in, but that wasn’t long before I showed up here. We... also tried to locate Levi using the microchip information. It--Well, we assume Tybur must've known about it and removed it because nothing came up. Jean spoke to WMC and they promised that the chips are meant to last decades and removal is the only explanation unless AD blocker is used. Which is possible I suppose, but unlikely... You uh, going to keep being all threatening and scary standing over me, Ervy?”
Realized belatedly how imposing his posture was, Erwin forced himself to take a step away from the middle of the hall. “Sorry, Hange,” he amended, raking his hands down his face. “I just—sorry.”
“No, worries. I get it.”
Erwin nodded absently, trying to rectify his emotions to something useful and productive. “What is Shadis’ plan for the address once she gives it.”
“I... I’m not entirely sure. Until we can get a warrant signed for Tybur, we’re running background checks on her statements to verify its validity. Anka not knowing the names of the people who forced her to deliver Levi or the two that killed Pixis while she was made to watch does limit her creditability somewhat. Nanaba was going to pull up names and photos of known clan members to see if any stood out for Anka.”
“If Tybur has Levi, Shadis needs to send a team in to get him. He’s supposed to be detained in an SRC building, not with his prior captor,” Erwin snapped before taking another forceful breath.
Hange raised her hands up in supplication. “Trust me, I’m pissed at him too for just looking that over. But WMC pulled some stunt saying they believe Levi was forced to kill Romero because of your bond. That you exhorted your power over him to not give him a choice.”
“Are you—” Erwin fumbled over his words, “They think I’d—”
“We all know it’s not true,” Hange hastily interrupted. “The team knows—”
“That’s not the point,” Erwin modulated his tone with effort, switching gears after trying to understand what that all meant. It took a moment for him to weed through his appalled anger to distinguish why Levi was moved in the first place. With the question of the bond's limitations and sponsor's control, he could see where the legal blame became muddy. “Okay. All right. So, Levi isn’t taking the fall for too, only I am.”
“For now.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t fine, but better than the alternative. “Why did they turn Levi back over to Tybur? There weren’t any official records of ownership before.”
“Levi’s technically not under his custody. Anka was the so-called foster until prosecutors could charge you after they verified the likelihood of Levi’s involuntary participation. Until then, any questions about him were her responsibility to field when he’s really with Tybur.”
“That motherfucker,” Erwin muttered. “And what about Mike? Does she know anything about him?”
Hange shook her head. “Nothing. She didn’t even know he was missing.”
“Fuck.”
“If it makes you feel better, I have my SRC buddy trying to get approval for the warrant being open for gleaning upon resistance,” Hange circumvented with a forced smile that appeared more like a grimace. “Shadis is arguing that the evidence is still too flimsy for a kill-on-contact approval, though so don’t hold your breath.”
“Too flimsy,” Erwin parroted, tone turning sharp. “How is that too flimsy? Anka confirmed Tybur was behind the hit on Pixis. Shadis’ friend just as much as ours.”
“Trust me, I get it. I’m on your side here. Right now, he’s looking at it from the Supreme Court level and trying to avoid any debacle that could get it thrown out. Last thing he wants is for them to chop it up to a grieving widow’s word and a fledgling’s sob story who was supposedly bullied by reapers who arrested him previously. You know how people in Tybur's station operate and slip free from charges. Shadis is focused on trying to avoid that.”
“Gods, I wish I was in Shadis’ office right now.”
Despite the dreary news, Hange snickered. “Probably a good thing that wasn’t the case or you would have legit charges against you. We can’t help you at that point, Ervy.”
“No,” he sighed reluctantly. “I supposed that would be counterproductive.”
“Besides. Levi needs you. Anka already agreed to give us the address, and we’ll figure it out from there. Even send in a team just to keep eyes on the place until we can officially make a move.”
It wasn’t a bad strategy. One would argue it was sound under most circumstances. Erwin wasn’t keen to wait idly, unfortunately. Already, he faced murder chargers, extortion, escaped from a correctional facility and assaulted four staff in the process. What were a few extra additions at that point?
“Hange. You’ve known me for how many years?”
The vampire cocked a brow, curious where he was going with it. “Couple centuries. When you were a menace running around Asia and Europe, why?”
Erwin didn’t offer an answer right away, considering his options as his prior anger drained, leaving him feeling bone tired. “I may be relapsing into hold habits again.”
“Relapsing? You, uh...” her eyes tracked down and back up his figure, “You planning on being more of a menace than you’ve been lately? Throwing it back old-old school style?”
Erwin snorted out what could be an effort at a laugh. “I suppose one could say that.”
A wicked grin sprung free as she rubbed her hands together like an evil scientist that he was certain she was in another life. “Oh, tell me more. I’m intrigued.”
“You say that now, but I will exercise my right to not tell you what I have planned.”
She blew out a raspberry. “Trust me. I’ve seen the very questionable things you do. You’re my little jailbird now, and I’ve yet to complain about you being here, right? So, what’s the harm in what you have planned? Tell me. Tell meeee.”
There was no arguing that logic.
Erwin glanced out the window, catching the distant flash of cars driving down the freeway on their commute.
“When Anka gives the address over,” he met her gaze with what he knew portrayed an unmovable object, “give it to me before you decide on sending a team in for surveillance.”
He watched her enthusiasm shrivel and die before his eyes. “You’re joking.”
He stared back, not offering any sliver of defense.
“Erwin,” she huffed. “Why? If you do this—if you bypass us trying to get a warrant, it could ruin the investigation completely and you’ll bare all the fault.”
“I don’t intend to go after Tybur. But I’m not letting him keep Levi captive while we wait for Shadis to dance around the bureaucratic red tape. I’m going to get him out, Hange.”
“And you expect me to believe you won’t injure, maim, kill, or all of the above, Tybur?” Her blunt skepticism was so pronounced he was certain the lingering souls could read it. “As you just confirmed, I know you, Erwin. And I know you won’t just grab Levi and walk out of there with a gaping coven leader who will probably be throwing degrading remarks against you and Levi. If he was to let you walk out. Which—given his own track record—I highly doubt. You'll have the whole coven baring down on you. This plan is stupid.”
“Well, tell me how you really feel.”
“I just did. It’s stupid. You’re better than that.”
Erwin shrugged, not able to bring himself to admit to her point one way or another. He felt it in his core that nothing was going to change the path his mind was already committed to. All he needed was Hange’s assistance in this one part.
“I’m going to save him, Hange. I could really use your help.”
The vampire was rightfully unimpressed with him, even when his stare remained unwavering on hers, patiently waiting for her cave. Of course, she did too. It was inevitable.
“Fine. Unlike your plan, I’m not stupid. I know you’re going to find a way to do it regardless if I hand it over or hide it.”
“I don’t know, Hange. By that logic, you could say you were stupid for giving it to me after knowing what you do.”
Her glare turned prickly and uninviting, but Erwin couldn’t help the surge of amusement.
“Do you want my help or not, you dumb reaper?”
“Yes, please.”
“Look at that, you do have manners,” she murmured as if to herself, though he knew she intended for him to hear. “Fine. I’ll get you that address.”
“And I’ll get Levi.”
“Just don’t get caught and don't kill our suspect before we can arrest him.”
Erwin attempted a reassuring smile that felt far too frail. “I promise I won’t.”
Notes:
Sorry for the delay, been in a slump lately. Hope you enjoyed the reveal, at least. Until next time, stay safe and thank you for reading the story this far! 🖤🩶 I appreciate your support!
Chapter 34: Raison d'être
Chapter Text
***
Raison d'être: most important purpose for someone or reason for being
_____________________________________________________
Well, isn’t that just all sorts of fucked up.
Levi rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, loathing the coagulated epiphany that landed on him. He dozed off, not into a full nap, because that would have been too beneficial, but just on the cusps where his brain took some creative liberties.
It didn’t matter whether he was trawled around Tybur’s heels or left alone in a room, particularly when the coven leader had no desire for him to hover in the corner like a cobweb; Levi continued to find himself falling into a fugue state. If he wasn’t chained to the floor or the wall, he was sure he’d be pacing aimlessly while his consciousness was miles away.
During his moment of escape, his mind decided to bring up some past discussion with Kenny. He couldn’t pin it to a year, only knowing it was shortly after his mother was killed, when remnants of wrath kept him company at night. Any attempts to paint the backdrop of the setting were obscure, like looking through a rain-soaked window in the dark and the lights were confetti drops on the glass.
Kenny was sitting at a table, he knew that much. There was a copper glow that cast a shadow across his tough, leathery features as one arm hooked over the spine of the chair and another fiddle with the glass tumbler. All other details were missing; fragments lost to time.
“You did right,” his gravely voice praised, though it was stilted by exhaustion that only grief could compromise. “You fought back and protected her to the best of yer ability. And—most importantly—ya finished it the same night. Took revenge and now all that’s left is moving on. Close that chapter like it’s one of yer books.”
“It’s not enough,” he remembered saying. Or he thought it was something along those lines. “It still isn’t enough.”
The ache and despair. That was what he had referred to. The raw, naked nerves that felt too exposed and mutilated in his chest. He lost his mum, for what? For some ineffective medicine and to sell a few deer pelts? Such insignificant things.
“Oi, open yer ears and listen to me, kid,” Kenny garnered his authoritative tone. Only when he knew he held Levi's attention did he go on. “Yer giving those cunts power over you—even in death. Let it go or I’ll knock sense into yer thick skull, understood? Vengefulness ain’t for weak wills or people with flimsy dispositions. The best way to go abouts it is to kill the tormentors as soon as ya get the chance. No fucking around or dancing on the idea.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Kenny? They’re already dead.”
“That’s the point. You did it right. You did it fast. Look,” he unhooked his arm from the chair and propped it on the table, leaning in a way that felt conspiratory as he thumbed the brim up from his brow. His dark eyes needled at Levi, too dark to tell iris from pupil as he scrutinized him. “You’ll hear people talking about revenge being a double-edge sword, making the world blind, and all that sanctimonious crap. The thing is, it ain’t the revenge part that fucks with a person. It’s the timing.
Revenge makes a person dependent on their oppressor. The longer ya go marinating on it, the more vengeance sinks into ya. Those thoughts,” he tapped at his exposed temple, “start to consume you until all you think about is yer target and how only they will bring ya relief from the pain if you make ‘em suffer. It makes people do all sorts of things just to get close to ‘em until they become reliant. What ya did was take out those sandy twats and put an end to it right there. That’s a success. Now move on. Stop givin’ them power while they rot.”
For the first time in two days, Levi lifted his gaze to his reflection in the mirror, turning away from the running faucet. His cheeks were already sharpening from the smaller portions of food. A sallowness diluted the warm color he had started to earn under sunlight, only more pronounced by the grey crescents setting in under his eyes. His gaze looked glassy from the lingering drugs in his system and hair dull, despite having showered that morning. That was an upgrade from the last stint under Tybur’s captivity: the vampire allowed him regular access to the bathroom. He encouraged it actually, with how frequently he liked to run his hands through Levi’s hair when he was high off his ass.
He looked like a junkie.
The thought startled a chuckle from him. Then, like a snowball effect, it grew louder, hoarse from sore vocal cords and frayed with a threat of madness setting it. He felt like he was losing his mind. Between a constant state of unmoored delirium, struggling to stay vigilant, and the realization that Kenny was right, Levi wasn’t sure how he could look at his reflection and say he was still sane. His brain was feverish on chemicals and here was the proof.
Here he was, back under the coven’s thumb, decades—decades—after swearing to take Tybur’s life... and where was he? At the man’s heel. Tolerating what he had to for his one devil’s damned opportunity to kill the fucker and doing just what Kenny told him not to do. Fall into dependency that handed Tybur the power to give him relief from the burdened grudge he bestowed on himself.
It was satirical.
It was completely fucked.
Yet the only one to blame was Levi.
What could he do at this point? Forgiveness and forget was not in his vocabulary, nor would he ever integrate it for the sake of that worm. Levi wasn’t in the business of backing off either, therefore, no matter what, he would have his revenge. Hell or high water, it was coming. So, what else was there to do?
Lean into it, he supposed. Accept that Kenny was right; that there was a caustic dependency on Tybur. Had Levi not been taken from Erwin, had they managed to close the C.B. case and find Tybur at fault for SRC, maybe Levi could have avoided falling into old habits. Kneeling in Tybur’s shadow and bidding his time which never should have been afforded to begin with.
How many chances had he taken to almost kill the man? A handful in nearly as many decades. Pitiful. Then again, his prey was clever, resourceful, and undeniably preserved the advantage over him. He couldn’t be too self-depreciative to ignore those important details.
In the reflection of the mirror, Levi would see his current guard hovering in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. This one wasn’t an asshole like some of the others, and his anxious energy reinforced how green he was to the position. Strangely enough, the general respect he showed Levi, escorting rather than towing to places, left the grim unbothered by the constant attention. The guy wasn’t on Levi’s shit list and would stay off it so long as he didn’t resort to the peer pressure of his coven mates, looking to abuse the shifter wherever they could sneak it in.
With his moment of unhinged revelation over, Levi finished splashing water on his face to rinse the toothpaste spit from off the muzzle wire. The inconvenience from awkward brushing was no longer a thought to him, too busy internally recalibrating his resolve.
Kenny, wherever the old dog was, would have to accept the fact his nephew had a few failures in taking Tybur’s life. If he ever found him again, Levi expected disgruntled, half-veiled insults and an avalanche of ‘I tolds ya’s’, but deep down, his uncle would accept it. Kenny would understand the curse of a hellhound and know that it was just the way the cards were delt.
Once a hellhound had the scent of their target, they had it for life. Never would they willingly give up the hunt until one or the other was dead. Or unless their master called it off. Unfortunately for Tybur, the closest thing Levi had to a master was Erwin, and the reaper would encourage the pursuit rather than scorn it.
A huff slipped out, mocking another laugh as Levi shut off the faucet and left the bathroom.
Yeah, he was losing his fucking mind.
***
Something was up.
Or maybe his little eureka moment simply realigned his focus better and things were sticking out as odd to his chemically clogged brain.
No. Something was definitely up.
The signs were far from obvious. To anyone exploring the halls of the estate, they would not see people running in a panic like headless chickens. Everything still appeared peaceful and almost lazy in the way privilege obligation could with repetitive routine. Piano music filtering from one of the useless rooms, the shuffle of trinkets as the staff dusted the shelves, a tinge of floor wax from the dining room, snow reflecting enough sunlight from the open curtains to not need artificial fixtures. All was tranquil and relatively normal, except for the subtle cues that stirred Levi’s unease.
It started with the peculiar glances from his assigned escort, which felt pointed and a tad more curious than normal when usually he avoided all eye contact while his boss was around.
After he deposited Levi in the study, Levi’s attention was drawn to Tybur’s phone ringing needily and interrupting the clacking on the keyboard. Two of those calls had the vampire’s thin lips tightening before he covered it with an empty smile, sensing Levi’s observation. He excused himself both instances to speak out of earshot, which was strange given it was only his lacky and Levi in the room. The shifter knew that those assigned as his handler were trusted above others, so it made him wonder if it was Levi who wasn’t supposed to be privy to the conversation instead.
That was ridiculous, right? Why would Tybur be worried about him overhearing a phone call? Unless it had something to do with him.
The seed of dread settled into place.
The rest of the day went on as normal. Levi was forced to accompany Tybur into his painting studio where he stuck to relatively innocent cityscape theme rather than his reimagined interpretation of finer classics. Dinner was the usual balance of uneventful feedings and sedation, although it didn’t escape Levi’s notice that it took longer and longer before his panic started to set in. That new detail chilled him to see the change of his conduct play out, just as Tybur had blatantly intended.
Not for the first time, he wondered what would happen to him if feedings lost their emotional link to his antipathy entirely. It felt like a betrayal to Izzy’s memory, if he was being frank. Like he was a traitor turning tide with his nemesis and breaking his promise in the name of comfort. All he could do was reinforce his motive and repeat that it didn’t change anything. He would do what was needed no matter what. Drugs be damned.
When he later emerged from the sedative cloud, Levi found that he was at some point deposited in Tybur’s room. It was late, judging by the gloomy black wall from the window that hid the looming mountain range, which was another abnormal derailment from the routine. How potent was the last injection if he was only now waking up?
He didn’t know the extent of hours he stayed there. The blankets and insultingly thin mattress on the floor smelt clean, so the staff must have washed them while he was forced to endure Tybur in another room. At least the guy didn’t constrain Levi to change forms and sleep on a dog bed. There was apparently a line the coven leader was not ready to cross yet, much to Levi’s misplaced relief. Sedations were one thing. The atrocious injection that encouraged or prevented shifts was one he’d truly give his all to avoid.
The current guard was different than the one from the morning. He sat in a chair beside the bedroom door, swiping on his phone while random sounds from reels hobbled about the quiet space. Usually, the jargon of noise would get on Levi’s nerves, between the AI voices, music shuffles, or campy dialogue trying to boast about recycled material already floating on other media platforms. However, given the alternative, Levi sat on the mattress with his back to the wall and closed his eyes, soaking in the life from the outside world that continued without him once more.
Predictably, his thoughts ventured to Erwin and how he was doing. Levi lacked any substantial details of the murder charges, and there was a significant amount of fear that the allegations would stick to the innocent man. Even knowing how efficient the team was at solving puzzles, SRC’s involvement did not bode well for his reaper.
Was Erwin thinking about him? Did he know Levi wasn’t being charged and was back in Tybur’s clutches? Someone from the team had to notice his absence by now. If not his, then Mike’s, which bode the follow-up question of how Mike came to be here to begin with. Tybur was many things, but he would never issue an order for his goons to become wolven-snatchers against an agent. Not that the giant of a lycanthrope would be an easy target to capture in the first place, but the concept was ridiculous and tossed out immediately. It had to be circumstantial.
There were a lot of blanks Levi was missing and nothing he could do about it. Aside from prioritizing (really, it was closer to daydreaming) of scenarios to get out of his unfortunate predicament. It wasn’t a fully flushed plan, more like a backyard butcher hack job, but the key components were there. The first being Tybur’s murder. That was a given. Then smuggle Mike out of the lunatic’s lab or cell, wherever that was. They would have to find their way to the city by possibly stealing a car and figure out a way to liberate Erwin too.
That was going to be tricky. Levi never broke anyone out of prison before. He was basically expected to do it twice, back-to-back. Levi’s level of crime prior to his capture was pick-pocketing and low-level thievery at best. Dodging attention from all the alphabet agencies and constructing a heist for his reaper under federal detainment was a whole other beast to confront, let alone successfully pull off. He doubt Mike would be up for the task depending on the state of his injuries. Despite Tybur keeping to his word and allowing Levi to review the camera feed when he asked—well, demanded—he knew Mike was suffering with the number Lara already did on him.
If by some miracle he managed to succeed and check off the boxes, what then? Would Erwin willingly accept a life on the run, or would he buckle down and try to prove their innocence? Probably the latter, much to Levi’s disgruntlement. The man would see it as an affront to his reputation. A challenge that needed to be put in its place for trying to tarnish him erroneously. Call the guy out on his manipulation and he’d give a sheepish smile or an indifferent shrug, admitting it was all true. Accuse him of killing someone that wasn’t on his list of hundreds before, and it was a personal offense.
Levi huffed, feeling a wane tilt of his lips. His thoughts traveled down a stray path, curious how Erwin was handling prison life.
He was older than Levi by over a century and played a role in various wars. Hell, the guy was barely older than the United States. Living through poverty, trenches, geopolitical shifts in borders, and existing in the shadows before Supras revealed themselves to humans... There was a novelty that came from starting with ramshackle survival and rising to where Erwin was now. From gleaning per his natural urges and hiding amongst mortals, to having a federal (possibly international) reputation. While Erwin could handle prison seeing as he made it through worse, there had to be a softened tolerance that came from his comfortable lifestyle. Private cabin in the mountains, three-piece suits, a cushy bank account that allowed him to consult on cases rather than work a full-time job.
Who was Levi kidding? Erwin probably had half the prison population figured out and had them dancing a nice little jig to his tune. Cunning bastard.
The alarm on the guard’s phone interrupted a video he was watching, which the vampire promptly turned off and stood. Shift change.
“Alright, get up. Taking you to the boss.”
Begrudgingly, Levi was towed away from the room and down the stairs. The building was not exactly antique nor was it new. Perhaps one that should have had a plaque on the front citing it a historic monument, though he supposed it was bound to be ignored if the coven tycoon threw enough money at someone.
From what he gathered, there were 8 rooms, possibly 6 or so bathrooms, and 2 parlors. The staircase was broad with iron banisters and an antediluvian chandelier hovered in the foyer. The building was fixed atop a plateau of sorts that was likely a source of mining and explosives back in the day. Levi recalled hearing that the Appalachian range used to have mountaintop removal for mining coal, and it wouldn’t surprise him if that method was brought to the west coast for specific minerals. Of course, someone decided to profit off the flat land for building a home as a result. It wasn't like the location was lacking, if what he suspected was true.
Three days prior, while stuck in the painting studio, Levi was able to spot the metallic glint in the distance likely of glass structures thousands of feet lower in elevation, just off the slate surface of a large body of water. A city. Possibly Seattle. He couldn’t be certain, but it gave him a sense of direction at least, and confirmed he was probably still in Washington.
Pulling him from his thoughts, the guard directed him down the long corridor to Tybur’s study, keeping a firm grasp on the cable. Cautious and wary, but otherwise professional. They had made it a few doors down when voices wafted toward him, muffled by the closed doors. Apparently, Tybur was speaking to someone with his big-boy voice if Levi could hear him through the shut room, marking another curious change to his list.
It was just the edges of the discussion he could make out with who Levi deduced was a lower coven member, though likely higher on the food chain than his handlers.
“Since his escape, there’s been no eyes on him.”
“And she’s still in custody?”
“Yes. We’re working with another contact to see what’s been revealed so far.”
Levi could barely make out Tybur’s heaved discontented sigh. “Don’t waste time and resources. She’s not worth the risk. We’ll operate with the assumption she’s let her tongue loose and act accordingly. Make sure the invitations are sent out by this afternoon with prompt RSVP.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Levi and the handler entered the room, he caught the tail of the man’s coat leave through another door before his attention was involuntarily locked onto Tybur. The vampire faced him from where he stood by the mantle, appearing far too gleeful for what was clearly a tense topic.
If he suspected Levi overheard or was bothered by the possibility, Tybur never hinted to it. Rather, he greeted them as usual before going to his desk to finish whatever he was pulled away from. The term RSVP was the biggest detail that stood out to Levi. The cognitive association with the term was a direct link to Dinner Party, and really, that was more of an immediate concern of his rather than whoever this ‘she’ was.
Well, shit. That felt like some sort of karmic penance chosen specifically for Levi by the deities. Tybur could take his revoting dinner arrangements and fuck right off.
The nervous seed in his belly began to germinate, nourished by the sinking feeling that something was happening to have Tybur frustrated by the member's news. Feeling out of the loop and vulnerable did not allow Levi the chance to cherish whatever was putting the vampire in a mood.
He knew all too well shit rolled downhill, and he was at the base of it all.
***
It was two days later when things came to a head. Like freshwater meeting salt in an estuary, Levi was reminding of Tybur’s two lives converging. It wasn’t enough to ensure his shipping company was operating fully, nor that the coven necessities were accounted for. He had a public image to uphold. Elbows to polish, asses to kiss. Though, Levi supposed Tybur’s was the one with the most lipstick marks at the end of the night, given how people flocked to wherever he loitered with his glossy veneer. Like a shiny lure to a fish in murky water. Majority of the guests were hungry creatures eager for an opening to earn a profit or gain with the mogul.
Levi was kneeling beside the vacant armchair, chained as usual, and stuffed into a crisp white button-down with black slacks. The staff did not bother having the shirt tucked in nor was he offered a belt, though the clothes were tailored enough to fit well on his shrinking frame. They had combed out his hair and ran some conditioning oil through the strands to give it a damp ink appearance. Groomed for others to admire as Tybur’s lapdog, Best in Show.
Throughout the hors devours and pleasantries, Levi was graciously left alone aside from the stares, allowing him to blend into the furniture landscape. Anyone that was unfamiliar with his role with Tybur and looked closely would probably assume he wandered there by accident, judging by his baffled expression he knew he was wearing.
The overall stimulus was a lot to take in. Every time he heard the front door opening and new guests arrive, it was like the temperature was slowly increasing, making his sweat. What was the saying again, about the frog and boiling pot?
Dinner parties never bode well for Levi. Whenever he was dragged out for display, Tybur took it as the prime opportunity to gloat. Only during such events did he open the floor for people to touch and pet him--after a hearty disclaimer that any damages accrued were not a reflection on the coven. That regularly got a few chuckles from the guests that masked their true thoughts on the matter. The brave ones took it as a challenge and made it a point to confront Levi at some point in the evening.
So far, he has been left alone and was keen to keep it that way. Sticking out like a mangey, undernourished shifter, despite his improved appearance, was possibly helping the well-bred hemovores from getting too curious to approach. His grouchy demeanor and lethal glare were just the cherry red warning on top. Thank fuck. There was only so much he could tolerate with the perfumed parasites crowding the room with their blood-fused cocktails.
Regrettably, his moment of solace was short-lived. Two ladies floated past, shimmery cocktail dresses trailing mid-calf as their flirty carved faces flicked in his direction. One scorned him with a frown, not of pity but disdain as if Lord Tybur having a chained shifter wasn’t the issue, but the clothing was. The other flashed him a set of pearly white fangs before sipping from her stemmed glass, making a show to lick the bead of crimson from her painted lips.
“I hear this one is fun to play with. One of Lord Tybur’s favorites. I wonder what makes him so special,” she cajoled while the first woman rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through the other’s.
“Come on, Milada. We need to give our gratitude to the host. You can have time for your proclivities later this evening.”
They swept across the room, leaving him a fragile second of solitude. He used the few beats to muse and sit with what the woman said, wondering what it was she was told about Levi. What unnerved him most was Tybur’s unpredictability thus far after his stint of freedom with Erwin. That spoilt, child-like possession was strong and present, but the amount of needy contact and touches bordered on excessive. While he had groped at Levi in the past, it was never so clingy. Would that privilege be granted to the guests or would his jealousy of Erwin be enough to protect Levi from the strangers getting too handsy with him?
They could gawk and chatter all they wanted. Oh, look. There’s that strange loup-garou that the Lord uses in fights. No shit. Was the muzzle the dead giveaway? Their useless comments were the least of his concerns compared to the incitements crowding the room.
His eyes continued to dart about the parlor, sizing people up and assigning threat levels to those whose gaze would linger a little too long for simple curiosity.
Maybe if he was lucky, a drunk vampire would get cocky and stick a finger in his muzzle. That would give these hyenas something to talk about.
After nearly two hours, the smell of food hit him like a guitar string snapping. Slicing through the perfume, alcohol, and blood, his stomach gave an involuntary grumble which did the opposite for his neglected appetite. Nausea roiled around unbidden as soon as he realized that he was indeed hungry.
He hadn’t eaten much aside from a few bites before Tybur began his feeding earlier that day, mostly bread, potato cubes, and stemmed vegetables which could fit through the wire. It was hard to eat when the dinner party loomed like a dark premonition, dissuading Levi from nourishing the panicky eel in his stomach for fear it would just push everything back up.
Strangely enough, Tybur managed to get him to eat chicken the day prior. That was after half-heartedly telling the kitchen staff to bring in the fully cooked bird as proof of the source. He wasn’t sure if Tybur did it to raise the stakes and encouraged Levi to eat meat, or if it was in anticipation of something else. The only time he ever cared what Levi ate was when a fight was on the horizon and the coven had something to gain. After Levi’s resolve caved and he accepted the chicken, Tybur told him he would need to trust his word from then on, because he wasn’t going to cater to his silly sensibilities by bothering his staff.
“What happened in the past is water under the bridge, Levi. Let it go already.”
As if that photo album that was brimming with victims and Izzy’s remains were some harmless prank played on a friend.
Fucking jackass was so delusional, it was a wonder that he wasn’t admitted to a mental institute.
Eventually, Levi was disturbed from his place—no, he wasn’t trying to hide against the arm of the chair—and led like a horse to the dining room. The usual navy pillow was replaced by a gaudy gold and burgundy cushion that matched the merlot suit Tybur adorned. It was a miracle the asshole didn’t force Levi into a matching red outfit; yet he had a suspicion why that was.
While Levi could say, prior to a few days ago, he had never been fed upon, there were instances when it had nearly happened. During one of the insulting ‘petting-zoo’ moments he was forced to endure, a particularly nasty piece of work decided to test the boundaries afforded to guests.
He had a bigger ego than Tybur, with a bald head, eyes too near together with a thin nose. His appearance and demeanor left much to be desired, so Levi couldn’t fault the guy for being offended when the shifter pointed out he was an ugly fuck. Given Levi was being subjected as an oddity for entertainment, he felt it was justified to get his licks in where he could. Going for the obvious chink in the vampire’s armor was almost child’s play.
The bastard was not in agreement with Levi’s opinion and thought it would behoove him to put Levi in his place by enforcing his dominance in the only way parasites knew how. Using his nail, he nicked Levi’s throat and took great pleasure licking the beads of blood off him as Levi tried to fight him off. There were four other guests standing around, watching the spectacle with savage delight while Levi was assaulted, growling insults and trying to break free of his restraints. It was by sheer luck that Tybur had been walking through the room to witness it and put a halt to the attack, although it was a far cry from being Levi’s savior.
Even with his engorged envy, Tybur wasn’t going to banish the men and cause a scene. Whether the relations could deteriorate or not, the mogul still had an image to uphold as host. Instead, he played it off like they made an ill mistake, similar to spilling wine on the table runner, and stonily warned them to be better than that. Tybur’s personal serf was called to take Levi away and get him cleaned up where the servant slapped on a bandage and sent him back to his chained position.
No one else approached him the rest of the night, nor did Tybur ever mention it again. However, a white shirt became the standard attire. Hard to hide blood from anyone that decided to be sneaky because fabric wouldn’t lie. Not like Levi supposedly would. The concept that the shirt was more honest than the shifter should have been another insult, but Levi just couldn’t be bothered by the uselessness of it all. The strategy was flawed, but an effective deterrent for Tybur’s guests. A thin fabric turned armor.
While many of the visitors around the table lauded Tybur of the culinary dishes and cleverly incorporated ingredient use of blood, Levi was given a mild dose of sedation before the meal was served. He wasn’t given anything to eat. Tybur told him he would allow Levi a full meal on his own once everyone left so long as he behaved--and damn him if it wasn’t an enticing incentive. Not that Levi would ever put food over him keeping his mouth shut.
Starvation was a cruel companion he had come to know well. Snarking off and stirring discord was one of the few indulgences he was afforded, and he wasn’t willing to give that up for some carbs and vegetables.
Once the dinner was finished, the polite socialization took a turn toward sloppier and louder carousal. Aphrodisiacs, venom and pill form, made laps around the parlor as various scantily clad vessels, men and women alike, were paraded to the guests. A few rowdier, younger nobles cheered and groped the humans who giggled, soaking in the attention and how their slips rode higher, exposing themselves for all to see.
Levi kept his eyes to the parquet flooring, feeling his heart thud against his chest walls and blood pound in his ears. His arm was itchy where the bandage was due for a change, still healing from the brutalized assault. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think the ghostly reminder was keyed in to so many predators around him while he was strung up and defenseless. Another new trauma trigger to add to his bank? What sort of twisted remedy would Tybur create for that one, Levi mused acidly.
At some point, the devil in question decided Levi was too comfortable where he was and brought him along to keep him company while he socialized. Levi resisted at first, snarking an insult under his breath at the man, making it no secret his contempt at being disturbed. As expected, the coven leader’s tolerance was on a hair-trigger and he dug his claws into the back of Levi’s neck like a scruff, towing him into his side so he would whisper his hot breath in Levi’s ear.
“There are five organs that can be removed from a person before they start suffering ill-effects and require life-support. Three others that can be cut in half before they suffer severe health issues... If you misbehave in the slightest, I’ll let Lara take any organ she wants from your companion downstairs and force feed it to him. Are we clear?”
The threat was no mild hazard. Levi had seen Lara hack up wolven corpses that had died in the pits. Witnessed firsthand how she hummed a tune as she pulled the slimy rope of intestines out of the stomach cavity like some handkerchief magic skill.
Through gritted teeth Levi nodded keeping his head down to avoid anyone’s gaze. He was allowed to glower at the ground all he wanted, but aiming it at someone deemed better than him would certainly fall under the ‘disobedient’ category.
For Mike’s sake, Levi would play his role and be the good pet. Never mind that it was getting easier to fake these days.
That was how Levi found himself kneeling on the unforgiving floor with Tybur’s fingers playing with the shell of his ear. Naturally, no sooner than he was put in his place near the piano, a gaggle of invitees had congregated toward Tybur and the wolven Levi recognized as Zeke Yeager. The alpha was not present during the dinner festivities and had arrived late smelling of patchouli that made a poor attempt to mask the tart aroma of fuel.
The Persian blue suit bore creases where there was a constant bend in the elbows, and a large wrinkle distorted the fabric in the back. In his degrading position at their feet, Levi took notice of a follicle of dry pine needles on the hem of Zeke’s pant leg along with the speckles of mud on the edge of his heel. While venturing outside and showing up late for the party was a cause of suspicion alone, Levi’s attention had perked up upon Zeke whispering to Tybur about his recent meeting with a pilot. Any follow-up details were abruptly cut off when a human visitor, CEO of some company Levi didn’t bother memorizing, approached to discuss business ventures.
From there, time persisted like the steady drop of a leaking faucet. Zeke sipped on untainted brandy, observing Levi with barely hidden amusement at Tybur’s knee. The smug glint in the man’s eye made Levi pander to a brief daydream of punching the round spectacles into the fucker’s face, blinding him with his own glasses. The callous thought must have been projected because Zeke’s sly glances eventually ceased altogether.
If a circle could have a head, Tybur was it. The 12 o’clock point where all the inferior numbers looked at during the bullshit discussions. Occasionally, someone would make a comment about Levi being a fine specimen and what the purpose was for a muzzle when he was acting so docile. Tybur preened at the topic, boasting that Levi was a complicated shifter that had a dependency on him. The muzzle was for everyone else’s protection than his own. A total crock of shit, but Levi bit his tongue to keep from countering the man holding the end of his cable.
As if to prove to everyone the validity of his statement, Tybur seized Levi’s hair and yanked his head back as he loomed over him.
“Open your mouth, pet.”
Levi felt a twitch in the corner of his narrowed eyes, staring straight into the unblinking and challenging glare baring down on him. The weight of everyone’s attention was heavy like a wet blanket draped over his shoulders, reminding him of his role and the stakes involved.
Slowly, as if he had to pry his jaw free, Levi opened his mouth, not at all surprised with Tybur spit onto his tongue, saliva catching the wire and stringing on the corner of his lips.
“Swallow.”
He obeyed. Clenching his eyes shut to hide the white-hot hatred and waited for Tybur to reward him by releasing his hair. The tycoon proudly turned his attention to the guests while Levi internally seethed, trying not to gag on the faint taste of iron and botanical notes of gin. He desperately wanted to wipe the back of his hand to his mouth and remove the residue, but the muzzle wouldn’t allow it.
“And he’s that fighter of yours, isn't he? The one with the impressive record...” Someone in the noble circle-jerk-fest appraised. “He’s an impressive wolven.”
“Indeed. He’s come a long way, but we have more work to be done.”
Levi opened his eyes, drilling his glare into the floor. If he tried hard enough, he hoped he could see through the wooden pattern to the basement below, reminding himself again that Mike was so close and depended on him to keep his composure. Movement in his peripheral drew his gaze toward Zeke who was busy staring off at the fireplace, a look of displeasure hidden behind the rim of his glass.
Was he disturbed by Levi’s treatment? Did witnessing the lopsided abuse and biased opinions of shifters from Zeke's newfound companions make the alpha uneasy?
Good. Fuck him. As far as Levi was concerned, the lycanthrope was no better than these sludge-dwellers. He best grow a fucking pair if Zeke was willing to throw in with this lot, or do something about it rather than pretend he didn’t see how they treated Levi.
Simmering in his self-loathing and fury, Levi continued to keep his head down as he willed the evening to come to an end. The downside was that the sun had only just dipped below the horizon with darkness swathing over the pale sky. The night was young, meaning Levi's tolerance needed to endure a few hours longer before things started to slow. A tall order given how he felt he was barely keeping it together as it was.
Other people were getting rowdy in the room and corridor, and the scent of blood and sex was beginning to infuse with the wood burning fireplace and concoction of cologne. If Tybur didn’t remove Levi soon, he knew another panic attack would be imminent. The first sedation at dinner was already wearing thin with its low dose and he was bound to need another.
It was after that thought crossed Levi’s mind that a scream from outside the estate cleaved the festivities like a cold zap of air. It plunged the parlor into a cascade of pause until the faint moans from another room and music from the gramophone were the only sound. There was a drawn beat of stillness as if everyone had turned to stone right on the spot.
Then the rattling pops of gunfire lit up the copse of trees like firecrackers, sending everyone into a frenzy.
***
Flurries spiraled through the apricot-tinged sky, turning ombre with the charcoal night creeping in. The cottony flakes caught the dying glow as the last light faded from the horizon, tugging shadows in the sun's wake. Darkness flooded beneath the forest canopy, feeling oppressive in the density, while the taxing gusts wove through the branches that groaned and creaked overhead.
Far beyond the peaks, the city lights blinked like a constellation, as if a separate world from the murky wilderness. Despite the elevation and miles spanning the distance, he could sense the echo of life glowing from the metropolitan area, earnest and whole. A stark contrast to the freezing temperatures that embraced him.
What brought him to the mountains was not in search of hypothermia or to admire the cityscape from above. Behind him, through a thicket of bare blueberry shrubs, the sedan headlights battled the encroaching night, a spotlight that would easily attract attention. Not that anyone was venturing through the abandoned Forest Service dirt road, overgrown with vegetation to the point branches had scraped the paneling of the car. At the mouth of the path was the main road that led to the estate in question, and he was far from anyone's view that far out. The building he was here for, however, was also out of sight from where he stood observing the landscape. Yet, he knew exactly where it perched just on the other side of the ridge.
Erwin stood in the snow beside one of the eight collapsed shafts of the Monte Cristo Mine. His indigo cloak was stiff with frost, the ribbon talisman on his scythe snapping in the biting breeze. Darting his tongue to dampen his chapped lips, the reaper allowed himself a brief span to take in the moment, to really let it settle over him.
The case had spiraled so spectacularly out of control that Erwin never would have anticipated his world coming to this. Former agent now fresh on the lam, submitting to a level of desperation that was about to put an impossibly larger target on his back. It wasn’t too late, he wanted to tell himself, but he knew any substitute strategies were out of the question.
He was about to break the biggest law of his species. Make those alleged murder charges look like a toddler’s game.
It’s not too late to turn back.
Yet it was.
Tybur had Levi. He had a whole mass of people in his back pocket and the influence to avoid being brought in. Until Anka and Colt could testify against the coven leader, nothing was going to change. The alternative of waiting until then to get Levi free was not an option for Erwin. He told Hange he would get him out and he meant it.
It’s not too late--
Erwin shoved that tiny voice away, locking it in a tight box and left it in the corner of his mind.
He used the toe of his shoe to kick a trench into the snow until the white slush gave way to frozen earth. Kneeling in the cold, he splayed his palm against the hard packed soil, feeling little pebbles sticking against his calluses. His mouth started to move, forming soundless words as he focused his soul energy to the tip of his fingers, imagining the chilled trickle leaking out of him and into the crystalized loam. His voiceless prayer was lost to his ears, never having the chance to be carried on the wind, not that it was ever meant for mortal ears.
The heat of his energy began to thaw the earth, where he injected a pulse of his spiritual essence into a lively rhythm. Internally, he focused on the banned technique, oxidated with disuse and tried to match it with his heartbeat. His tongue revived the ancient language with care, rewarded with his power spreading outward like waves cresting on a shoreline. He took his time with it, knowing a misstep could have dire consequences outside of breaking one of the biggest laws of their time.
Overhead, the wind shifted, shaking clumps of snow from the boughs of alpine trees, flurries eddying around him and ruffling his hood. He could feel the mountain beneath his hand respond, the dead hearing his call. Beneath the snow and rock, buried in abandoned shafts from cave-ins, Erwin could sense the waiting souls: miners crushed under boulders, forgotten laborers whose names were scratched from company ledgers, their bodies unclaimed. It wasn’t only the colliers he summoned. Voices surged around him, sensing the reaper and searching him out for aid.
He allowed his energy to follow the invisible line of the fractured souls, being led to bodies of lost hikers who strayed in rainstorms and loggers who were devoured by the wilderness. They called on him, and for the first time in a centuries, he answered.
The stillness beyond his hand broke away in fissured cracks, where ice moaned and soil transposed. Slowly, from the mine’s throat, skeletal hands broke through the crust and debris. Full units and shift workers lost to unfortunate accidents emerged with helmed skulls, broken spines, and jawbones twisted into permanent screams. Many still wore faded jackets and denim overalls, while others were half-flesh from being preserved in the cold temperatures for decades.
Bones were laced with ore and volcanic sediments, unhindered by the lack of muscle to dig their way free. The reaper’s energy was a gift in tying fragmented souls to their corpses, and in kind, they were drawn to their summoner. A force that defied kinetic energy and made the dead into soldiers.
Erwin stood slowly, the glow in his eyes reflecting the intensity of a lightning strike over the raging ocean. His unholy skill shrouded him in soot black shadows, swirling like smoke tendrils.
Adjusting the grip on his scythe, he turned in the direction of the estate and pointed with his blade.
Notes:
So… Erwin decided to say, "fuck it, let’s see how Tybur handles some necromancy." 😈 Bet he didn't see that coming.
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and support. It’s helped me out of my weird de-motivation gloom that hit. I'm still on the fence about a specific detail in the next chapter because on one hand, it leads to a sequel/continuation of this fic (really Aconite Tea is like two books in one already, so it would be like 12-ish more chapters), or I could just end it there. I don't know yet. I have another story I want to write after these final two chapters so if it did continue, it wouldn't be the usual weekly updates. Maybe monthly or bi-weekly.
I'm just rambling, don't mind me. 😅 But it would answer more questions about Mika and Kenny, and open the world up more than we've seen of Supras so far.
Anyway, thank you for reading, the kudos, and comments! They really do mean so much to me. Until next time, stay safe! 🖤🩶
Chapter 35: Ultion
Notes:
Well, I feel like it’s a given, but for some reason, I think there should be a reminder that none of our characters here are entirely “good”. Maybe Mike and the team-ish are the best examples of a “good” person, but Levi and Erwin certainly play in the grey sandbox.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
***
The estate was plunged into darkness; the lights effectively snuffed out by a power surge.
There was the amber glow of the fireplace, the faint blue pinpricks of people’s phones being turned on, but any sense of order was absent. Across the din of mayhem, there were shrill cries of alarm, people shouting over one another wondering what was happening, and the scuffs of furniture on the ground as people crashed through the fray. Everything was reduced to white noise for Levi who was yanked to his feet with Tybur’s hand seizing his injured bicep.
“Lord Tybur! What’s going on?”
“Are we under attack?!”
“Safe room! You have to have a safe room!”
The last pudgy man was jerked out of Tybur’s path by his collar and shoved onto the ground by Zeke. No one spared the guest another look as they abruptly left the parlor in a hurry, causing Levi to stumble on his numb legs that tried to work themselves into a normal stride.
More pops of gunfire burped from the front of the estate. Whoever Tybur’s security were shooting against did not seem to return fire. There was a distinct lack of damage being taken by the building, hinting it was one-sided. Levi had instinctively braced for shattered glass and the recognizable thunks of bullets imbedding in plaster and mortar. Maybe even the tingling and rattle of the kitschy chandelier collecting ricochets.
None of that occurred. The constant pressure on triggers was a tell-tell sign of sending as much ammunition downrange as possible with no retaliation. Just unhinged spray and pray.
What the fuck was going on?
Levi winced when Tybur’s phone was whipped out as he made a call, momentarily shocking his vision that had already adjusted to the dark.
“Stay where you are, Lara. Barricade the door and keep the kids safe. He’s bound to follow us.”
For once, the reply was lost in the cacophony following them through the corridor. He didn’t know who Tybur was referencing, if Levi was included in the ‘us’, or how he felt about Mike being locked in the basement where Lara had been all night. Disjointed and lost did not cover half of what was going on through his drug-addled mind.
“The car’s out the back sunroom,” Zeke informed, bringing up the rear after the call ended.
Levi jerked his chin over his shoulder, feeling the cable tug taunt, but it was enough to catch the front door slamming open as a coven member dove in. Falling to the flagstone in the foyer, the man half-crab crawled backwards with his pistol aiming at the front steps. A terrified scream was drowned out as he pulled the trigger, emptying the magazine as a creature shambled to the door.
It was difficult to see from the other side of the house and over Zeke’s shoulder, but what Levi was able to make out had his feet stumbling over each other.
The creature—person—jerked from the bullets punching through his sternum, but they never faltered. It continued limping into the threshold, scraps of muddied and tattered materials clinging to a shrunken body. The skin looked like tinted cellophane stretched over a disconnected skeleton, and it was only after a lycanthrope tackled it in two that Levi was able to put a name to it.
Undead.
The estate was under assault by the undead.
What. The. Fuck?!
Was he high? Had the accumulation of sedatives finally reached its peak and he was hallucinating the last of his braincells?
Tybur slammed the backdoor opened, hauling Levi at his side to follow right as a wall of winter and dry wind smacked him in the face. The change was shocking enough that it made the heat from the parlor feel like the tropics.
Zeke ran in front of them, gun at his side as he kept his head on a swivel. The gunfire sounded different, no longer reverberating off the walls, but having open space to thin out over the terrain. Snow was raining down on them in thick sheets, crunching beneath their shoes as they hurried to the sedan.
There was a snap of clarity in Levi’s disoriented brain, recognizing that not only was it just Tybur and Zeke with him, but they were outside of the house. Forests surrounded the rear of the estate, offering plenty of cover and concealment. With the chaos persisting, snarls, and howls joining the diminishing gunshots, Levi was presented with an opportunity.
A very beautiful opportunity.
Digging his heels in the snow, he jerked his arm back as hard as he could. Tybur’s claws snagged in the fabric, scraping across the raw injury beneath the bandage, but Levi was already moving. He kicked his leg out at the vampire’s ankle, sending him crashing onto his shoulder in the snow. For good measure, he wheeled his leg back and struck the man’s face, hearing the satisfying crack as Tybur’s blond hair lifted like a pale wave.
Zeke spun at the hood of the car, a visceral growl telling Levi his time was up as the larger man lunged for him.
The grim was not proud to admit he had no strategy to his mad dash away. All he had were a broken string of facts that dictated his next moves to keep the advantage. A choppy: cuffed wrists, muzzle—can’t bite, can’t shift, Zeke's stronger. As much as he wanted to stay there and wrap the cable around Tybur’s throat while he was down, it was a losing battle with Zeke standing right there. If he couldn’t kill the bastard, he may as well get away.
In the fracas of his spontaneous escape, Levi made the questionable choice of staying outside rather than trying to hide in the maze of the building. He knew by the amount of guests that were sheltering inside, there were numerous cars out front.
There were also the undead as well, but Levi had no knowledge of just what that meant aside from it should not be possible. He could only hope that the sound of Zeke’s pack holding them off, along with the coven bodyguards, Levi could slip away before having to learn up close and personal.
Unfortunately, no sooner did he reach the front corner of the house was he slammed face first into the ground. The heavy weight at his back jolted his spine as the air was knocked from him. He recognized the patchouli scent before the snaggy grumble filled his eardrum with a warning.
“Get the fuck off me!” Levi kicked his legs out, trying to twist around to get his cuffed wrists into a semi-defensive position.
Zeke posted on the back of his thighs, holding him in place with a hand shoving his face into the snow. “Shut-up, runt! Shut-up!”
The urgency was low and whisper-shouted, the way someone cautioned when not wanting to draw attention. Levi managed to strain against the pressure enough to catch a glimpse over the top of the snow, seeing corpses being dismembered by vampires and lycanthropes alike. Finely dressed visitors were trickling out of the front entrance, hunched over with clutches and arms raised trying to shield from stray bullets.
It was a scene Levi thought belonged in a movie rather than real life: Zombies or whatever the fuck coming to take over the house filled with the living. Was it witchcraft or something else entirely?
Reaper, his mind supplied belatedly.
Reaper.
Reaper.
Erwin?
His eyes widened on their own as he struggled to lift his head further, but it was short-lived as Tybur’s voice called on Zeke from beside the house. Scruffed by the back of his muzzle, Levi was lifted unkindly to his feet, only for the alpha to encase his arms around him like a straitjacket and tugged him backwards.
“Let go, you fuck! Let go!” he shouted and spat, kicking his legs out into messy scribbles in the snow. “Erwin!”
Zeke paid him no mind, dragging him away from the fight with ease. As soon as the battle was out of sight and they were nearly to the car at the back, Tybur stepped in front of him and landed a punch to Levi’s temple. The impact was enough to jerk him sideways, and Zeke released his arms to erase all support.
He crashed onto the ground only for a foot to impale his ribs. Levi grunted as white pain shot through his body before the shoe clipped his cheek, snapping his head against the ground. Droplets of blood splattered in the snow as Tybur knelt to Levi’s level, grabbing the front of his muzzle with both hands and slamming the back of his skull into the ground once. And then again.
Effectively dazed, Levi groaned as he swore his body turned to jello, boneless and slack.
Tybur leaned on his heels, panting heavily with burst of warm fog punching the air. He looked as feral as he did the night he carved Levi’s arm, yet the shifter was hollow of fear. All he could think about was Erwin, how he was there to get Levi and Mike.
Tybur raked his matted hair out of his face and stood. “Get him up! We’ve wasted too much time.”
Zeke obeyed, towing Levi to the car. He put up another struggle but the wolven’s response was to hook the bend of his arm across Levi’s throat and squeeze. The leather collar did nothing to protect against the chokehold and despite clawing at the man’s elbow and drawing deep rivulets of blood, his vision darkened until it swallowed him completely.
***
The dead did not emote the way that they once had. The longer a fragmented soul existed in stasis, the more detached it became from human-like consciousness. Of the 32 miners that emerged from the shaft, Erwin had lost 14. The surviving—if one could call it such without disrespect—did not wail or shed tears for those dismantled bodies, those same people who were co-workers and friends trapped underground together in their final moments. Rather, they pushed forward to face the wolvens and vampires without pause.
Erwin knew better than to call it devotion. Their souls were tethered to their bodies, and as such, under his will. However, that did not negate their ability to resist. If a soul wanted to do so, they could make Erwin’s time difficult by their unwillingness, yet that was not the case presently.
The miners, stray loggers, and wayward hikers gathered and obeyed. Erwin had seen trained soldiers collapse and make illogical decisions when they lost their battle-buddies in war. Many instances, he was forced to get them back on track, sacrificing precious time and cover to get them sorted in trenches and muddied fields. None of that was required here, though.
A lycanthrope charged at him from the left, shattering a miner’s femur to reach Erwin. He twisted away by kicking at one of the security guards, and blocked a dangerous swipe at his chest with his scythe. The wolven reared back his other paw, gnashed teeth opening in a rageful bark, but Erwin jammed the chine of the blade clockwise, smacking into the shifter’s snout.
The impact startled the wolven a split second, giving Erwin time to lean away from the strike and maneuver to the side. In the time it took the lycanthrope to swing his arm with a carnal growl, Erwin was already twirling his scythe, using the antlers to hook the shifter’s calf and rip his feet from under him. The massive wolven crashed to the earth where Erwin swung the staff end like a cricket bat, clocking the man’s jaw and knocking the shifter out.
Returning to index the battle around him, he noted that the number of his expired allies had dwindled to nearly single digits, cutting his intended distraction in half. He had to get to the estate and find Levi.
Spotting an opening between the last of Tybur’s defenses and his own, he sprinted toward the front entrance, indigo hood flying back in the process. The snow continued to drift, but it felt like running through static more than an indication of the temperamental weather shift. A handful of dinner guests, donned in fine shimmery dresses and suits took a chance to sprint through the carnage that was dying down, fleeing to their cars to get away. Erwin knew there was a chance that the police were already called and there was no way of hiding evidence of his unethical crime here tonight.
A faint glow from the front entrance guided him, barely providing illumination to avoid stepping on unconscious security and broken corpses that were empty husks now. The souls were back to floating in the atmosphere again, but any whispers were muted in the disarray.
Just as Erwin reached the front threshold, causing the cowardly couple hiding behind the entry table to baulk and scream at the reaper, another call broke through the throng of noise.
“Erwin!”
His feet planted hard before he could fully enter the building, twisting his head back and forth to determine the direction of the voice. He was certain it came from outside, but no one he saw who had exited the house was Tybur or Levi.
He lingered in place for a second more, wondering if he was mistaken. That maybe his mind was playing tricks on him and Levi was actually further in the house. Turning to the trembling couple, he stalked forward, latching onto the human's tie and yanked him so their noses nearly touched.
“Where’s Tybur?”
He brought his scythe up for good measure, but he knew his distorted voice in full Reaper form was enough to get his point across.
“He-he-he left... out the b-back,” the human pointed down the long corridor as if Erwin hadn’t just entered through the front.
He dropped the human who scrambled backwards until he hit the wall, but Erwin was already running through the house. More people shrieked when they saw him run past the parlor where a fireplace roared and music continued to play. Even a terrified naked human draped in a bedsheet plunged into the room they found protection in. He paid none of the guests any mind as he reached the back door and slammed it open to see a dark car veering out of the snow-covered lot.
Shit!
Erwin’s feet were already shoving him outside despite the futility of it all. He wouldn’t catch the car on foot, and they were already passing through the battlefield strewn yard, clipping a remaining miner in a scuffle with the front of their car.
Fuck!
Dispelling his scythe, Erwin sprinted down the tire tracks in the snow, noticing that there were fresh shoe prints and what looked like a few disarrayed marks from a struggle. It was undoubtably Levi. He had almost gotten free.
Through the thickening snow fall, Erwin spotted two people scurrying to their vehicle where he picked up his pace to intercept them. He already had car theft on his charge list. What was one more?
***
When Levi came to, he was laying on the floorboard in the backseat of the car. Tybur’s shoes were against the curve of his stomach, and he felt something sharp and metal digging into this shoulder, grounding him. There was also a distinct scraping of the windshield wipers which squeaked unpleasantly over the harried discussion pinging back and forth from the seats.
“—we might’ve lost him. Can’t see his headlights.”
“Well, don’t get complacent! Keep going! I don’t want to give him a chance to pull another desperate move.”
Levi lifted his chin and tried to sit up on his elbow to glare at Tybur. The vampire was distracted; attention locked on his phone as his thumbs tapped away. On the far side of the seat, much too far for Levi to make a lunge for, he noticed the steel cable that was used for his lead was detached. Checking his restraints in the cramped floorboard, he confirmed that the cable was indeed removed, leaving standard cuffs, the collar, and muzzle.
The extra freedom was unexpected, especially after his attempt to break free, but it also made sense. If Tybur couldn’t always keep a hand on him, it left Levi open to using it as a weapon, especially during transportation. Again. What was more important was he knew the only way they could unlatch the lead was by a key.
One of them had it. The device to get him out of the muzzle.
His eyes flicked to Tybur’s coat and pants. Surely, he wouldn’t risk Levi pickpocketing it off him. He knew how sticky Levi’s fingers were from past experience, so did that mean Zeke had them?
“Ah. Recovered from your nap, have you?”
Levi’s eyes snapped to Tybur’s face which he found already staring at him. The intonation was smug and light, but the glower was certainly a shade darker than pissed.
Similar to his own face, blood was smeared from Tybur’s nose and lips, likely from absently wiping with his sleeve. The thought of his captor having to clean off the evidence with his expensive suit brought satisfaction to Levi’s dire circumstances.
The rough curve of the mountain road caused him to slide a few inches to where the top of his head pressed into the door panel. As if sensing Levi was prepared to improve his position, Tybur shoved his shoe onto his shoulder.
“Don’t get weepy eyed and hopeful now. Your reaper may be incredibly stupid, but we already suspected he’d make a move against us.”
Levi wasn’t so pleased about being lumped with him and Zeke but chose to ignore it in favor of more important matters. “Funny. Looked to me like you were running away with your tails tucked—”
The shoes slid off his shoulder and squashed his face into the floor. Tybur loomed over him, unfurling his lips.
“You’re on thin ice, boy. I advise you to think carefully before you decide to make it worse for yourself. As for Smith,” he leaned back as the sneer coiled into something amused, “he’s gambling high stakes with that necromancy stunt. Quite literally, all or nothing. When he fails, not only will he face murder charges and prison escape, but he may have doomed you both. If they glue a death penalty charge to him, I fear our time will be coming to an end sooner than expected. A damn shame, but that’s what you get for whoring yourself out to bond with him.”
The grim hadn’t realized he found comfort in Tybur wanting to preserve his control over Levi. Not until it was gone. The unwelcoming creep of betrayal squirmed in his chest, writhing angrily at the sense of abandonment. He knew it was ridiculous to feel that way. It was only a result of Tybur’s influence and manipulation that birthed that reaction to begin with, rather than fretting over his own life.
That still didn’t clear his head from the confusing emotions.
Was Tybur that pissed off with Erwin that he was willing to let Levi die through the bond, just to prove a point? He knew their rivalry was bone deep, but it had a different shape to it than his and Levi’s. With Erwin it was competing against someone of equal power, whereas Levi was all about control and psychological torture. Of course, Tybur would take it more personally with Erwin besting him.
“I don’t know,” Levi rasped into the sole of the shoe. “Sounds to me, he still succeeds in taking me away from you. Death is preferrable in my humble opinion.”
The shoe retreated from his face only for a hand to wrap about the collar and throat, Tybur’s tattered patience on a frayed thread. “Keep mouthing off, Levi. I’m keeping a tally of every disobedient act you commit to be dealt with in the future. Against you or your companion. You’re up to 5 right now. Want to make it 6?”
Levi kept his mouth shut through his glower. If Tybur knew Erwin was going to make a play against him, and already had a plan to counter, there was a chance that this would play out to the coven’s favor. Risking Mike was not worth it just for a few cheap comments to dig under Tybur’s ego. He needed to pick his moments.
The engine continued to rev and take sharp turns, driving recklessly through the dark and icy roads. He didn’t know how long they drove for but eventually, they slowed to take a sharper turn to the right, having to significantly modulate their speed as the car navigated poorly over a pothole ridden road. As they got closer to their destination, there was an unrecognizable thrumming sound that grew louder. Levi’s mind tried to identify the source, coming up with blanks on what would be making that sound in the developing snowstorm.
He didn’t have to ponder on it long as the car jerked into park and the engine died. The cab light flashed on and then Levi was being dragged out of the warm car and into the dark snow.
“Hurry up! On your feet!”
He was manhandled into a semblance of a stand before heaved around the front of the car. Tybur passed them, leading the way to what Levi recognized through the white static as a short airstrip. A small plane was aiming down the length of the flightline with the propellor on the nose mincing the flurries and blowing the asphalt clean around the landing gear.
Suddenly, Levi wanted to kick himself for not putting it all together. The strange behavior with everyone at the estate, the troubling phone calls, the mention of a pilot. This bastard really had anticipated Erwin showing up after getting out of prison.
If Levi got on that plane, Tybur would win.
Instead of yanking out of Zeke’s grasp, Levi chose to lunge, tackling the man onto his front. Posting on the wolven’s hips, he began to rain down double fisted blows to the back of Zeke’s head, gritting his teeth as the man twisted and cursed. He tried to buck Levi off him while protecting his himself with his arms, when Tybur erupted from the side with a kick. Leaning back in time, Levi avoided the knee by inches before shoving to his feet, but Zeke immediately swept his leg into Levi’s knocking him off balance.
The inky sky filled his vision as he collided onto the ground just as a series of fists slammed into his face with the muzzle being a poor substitute for protection.
His vision was mottled momentarily as everything turned to snapshots...
His head lulled as he was half-carried, half-dragged toward a narrow staircase.
The rumbling engine rattled his aching head as he was dropped into a flimsy seat and propped against the sidewall.
He continued to blink, the foggy pain and lightheadedness fading and clearing as the door sealed shut, dulling the sharp propellor that continued to drone and reverberate in the body of the plane.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” someone verbally echoed his thoughts.
Circling his gaze to the front, he spotted the pilot with Zeke in the second co-chair. Tybur leaned between the seats, braced and squinting at whatever held their attention on the airstrip. Sitting up straighter, he was able to see two spears of light puncture the darkness, being broken like a barcode by the trees before clearing the edge. Veering onto the tarmac, the stolen Maserati roared down the flightline at them.
“Go! Get us in the air!”
The plane lurched forward, engine revving as the propellors increased. Levi was knocked back by the acceleration, having to put both hands on the seat cushion to brace himself. It continued to barrel down the runway, gravity weighing him further into the chair as the aircraft began to grow lighter.
“He’s not stopping!”
“Fucking idiot has a death wish.”
Looking toward the front, he understood their alarm. The car was indeed not stopping. If anything, it was speeding up as it challenged territory on the tarmac in a dangerous game of chicken. Was Erwin fucking serious?
Zeke opened the cockpit window of the light aircraft, jamming his handgun out to fire rounds at the vehicle. The wind whipped inside the belly of the plane, blistering cracks of the gunfire and engine whine hurting his eardrums. Levi flinched instinctively, barely hearing the pilot shouting at Zeke that he would hit the propeller.
Ducking inside, he shut the window just as the nose of the plane was towed upwards, lifting off the flightline while the occupants were anchored down by g-force. Levi braced himself, feeling powerless, an unwilling passenger between the aircraft and car. He had never flown before, yet somehow, he knew they weren’t supposed to climb so abruptly.
“Get it up! Get it up!”
A catastrophic sound of metal shearing and twisting drowned out the pilot’s response. The aircraft jolted and tilted toward the side, knocking Levi out of the seat before the pilot struggled to wrangle the plane level. Somewhere below his feet, he felt the grinding of the hydraulic system locking up, skipping his heart that was already thumping in overdrive. He scrambled to his feet, pressing his forehead to the window in time to see Erwin shrinking below.
The roof of the car was mutilated and peeled open like a sardine can; the windshield shattered and caved in. It had spun out and was now partially on the median while Erwin stood at the driver's door and stared at the plane ascending into the sky.
Fuck-fuck-fuck!
He didn’t know where Tybur was taking them, but he knew—deep in his fucking chest—that if they left the country, he was screwed. There was never going to be help.
If he was going to make a choice, it was now or never.
With every shred of willpower, he ignored the consequences of what he was about to do, about how he was in a tiny tin-can of a piece of shit plane, soaring to meet a snowstorm. Mentally knuckling up and summoning his fury, he launched toward the cockpit, swinging his arms with full rotation at Tybur’s head.
The vampire collapsed into the steel wall, knocking him into a daze and buying Levi time. With no delay or thought, he looped the cuffs around the pilot’s throat and shoved with all his weight onto his heels. Zeke was already fumbling with his seatbelt to get free as the pilot pawed at the chain on his throat and tried to reach Levi's head. His feet kicked out as he was suffocated while the other hand--bless the guy for trying--did all it could to keep the plane level. In his distress and terror, he eventually let go of the controls, sensing the futility of sustaining the aircraft if he was strangled.
The wolven managed to finally break free, already starting to shift into his lycanthrope form in the tiny space, completely over dealing with Levi. Returning a throaty growl and baring his teeth behind the muzzle, Levi kicked out as soon as Zeke was close enough, catching him in the crotch. He followed it up with another jab at the guy’s knee, causing it to buckle and snap when it dislocated. The wolven wailed and made to disembowel Levi with already mutated claws that Levi tried to arch away from.
At that same second, the plane began to dive, levitating everyone except the now unconscious pilot and slamming them into the ceiling. Tybur cursed and attempted to cling to the nearest chair as Levi was somewhat anchored around the pilot’s throat. At least, until the plane began to spin out of control, and suddenly Levi and the others were flailing helplessly around the interior, not unlike balls in a bingo cage. He barely noticed the mountainside closing in or treetops reaching up to catch them. The instrument panel turned into a chaotic mosaic of flickering needles and blinking alerts while something screeched at them in alarm.
All his thoughts were, as a wing was ripped away from the shell, was that at least Tybur’s odds of surviving were equal to his own.
***
Standing between the spun-out car and broken landing gear, Erwin watched the aircraft gain elevation while the whirring of the propeller thinned out in the wind. He was breathing hard from the adrenaline, puffs of clouds distorting his vision momentarily before it too faded.
He failed.
He failed to get Levi back, after all of that.
With no other options—with no other thought of dragging Hange further into trouble with him—he pulled out his pre-paid phone to call her for any chance to track the plane. It was a long shot. The best he could probably hope for was for GSIS to send a BOLO out to all local airports for the plane. Even that, he knew, was foolishly optimistic.
Just as he realized the phone was out of battery, the plane teetered precariously, as if hitting a microburst of headwind. He watched for it to level out by reducing the thrust or seeking out the downdraft, but his throat locked up when he saw it shudder before dropping out of the sky. It spiraled freely in the white-out conditions, showing no effort of any occupants trying to regain control.
Erwin watched with bated breath, horror-stricken as a part of him had already pieced together what the cause was. There was no room in his internal panic for frustration toward Levi’s desperate gamble when all he could do was watch as the plane plummeted like a physical blow had struck the front. Across the distance and howling wind, the sound of the shrilling stall horn managed to reach him in its descend, followed by the metallic grinding as the aluminum wing was ripped off.
He lost sight of it through the tree line on the mountain, but a moment later, there was a burst of snow and smoke.
Erwin was moving before he could even process anything, getting into the shredded vehicle and speeding as far off the end of the tarmac as the sports car could make it. He managed a rough off-road preempted before it inevitably beached itself on a stump or boulder, but through the snow and frigid temperatures making his eyes water, there was no getting around it.
Throwing himself from the vehicle, he sprinted toward the column of smoke using it as a compass just as a burst of firelight lit the mountain’s face.
No-no-no!
Erwin pushed himself into the fastest sprint he could manage up the steep and treacherous incline, wading through ankle and calf-deep powder.
He had to hurry. He had to help Levi.
***
The inside of the cabin was a mangled shell of broken glass, detached seats, and missing panels. Smoke was pouring in from somewhere, drowning out Levi’s blurry vision as he groaned where he lay. His entire body complained like his nerves were given a foghorn, each burst momentarily washing out his thoughts as he tried to catalogue the injuries. It immediately became apparent it was a waste of effort as every time he moved to rollover, a new ache would make itself known, trying to smother the rest.
That meant he was alive, right? Couldn’t be a bad thing.
His nose stung and leaked blood or snot, he couldn’t tell with the smell of acrid smoke, burnt rubber and plastic, and fumes from fuel. The echo of the plane hitting the earth, not coming to a jarring halt but rather a violent tumble, made Levi feel as if he was shoved in a drying machine. Everything continued to sway in his vision as he clambered to his feet to take in his surroundings.
The pilot was still in his chair, but the instruments had practically caved inward like an accordion, crushing the man in place. The propellor was buried in the snowdrift where Zeke’s body hung halfway out of the cockpit and on the nose of the plane. His head was distinctly missing from his shoulders, corpse distorted and twisted with the upper frame of the windshield having crushed his lower legs in place like a vice.
Levi stumbled over to the body, remembering that someone had keys to get him out of his muzzle and cuffs. His right ankle felt like it was sprained, but through the bewilderment and adrenaline, he hoped it wasn’t broken.
To reach through the narrow, broken windshield and warped steel, Levi had to step on the pilot’s hip and hoist himself over the hot instrument panel. It took a bit of maneuvering to wind his fingers into Zeke’s clothes and tug him closer to the cabin, but some deity out there was benevolent after all as his fingers latched onto the cold keyring in the wolven’s pocket.
Sliding into the main husk, ignoring the likely fractured ribs, Levi worked to get the muzzle and cuffs off, tripping over debris as he made his way towards an opening in the siding. The smoke was getting thick, choking him out as he coughed and sputtered, but as he stumbled into the snow, he managed to drop the cursed muzzle to the ground.
Being free from the twisted coffin of the fuselage did not solve many problems, however. He tried to take a few steps into the crash site, but his legs buckled. The severity of his compromised equilibrium was a concern, though he couldn’t pin it to a specific injury or shock. His right side was in excruciating pain and his shoulder felt partially dislocated.
As he kneeled where he was, sucking in unfriendly air that wasn’t contaminated with thick smoke, he tried to peer inside the cabin again, confirming that he still hadn’t seen Tybur. With luck, the bastard was thrown from the plane and impaled somewhere on a branch. It would deny Levi the satisfaction of killing him with his own hands, but dead was dead.
I’m in worse shape than I thought if I’m ok with that, he mused, coughing again and feeling his ribs light up like a damn Christmas tree.
Wiping the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing some of the blood and soot from his vision, he wanted to curse his stupid thoughts for manifesting shit luck as he spotted something he initially overlooked. He was certain the Universe was taking a piss.
Through his adjusted sight, he could make out the sloppy footprints leaving the plane and heading into the forest. The low electrical fire from the aircraft was just enough to paint shadows through the indentions, illustrating that Tybur’s own leg was compromised by the dragging of a heel through the snow. Flicking his gaze to the muzzle dropped three feet behind him, Levi’s petulant sigh tapered before it could fully form.
Maybe the Universe was giving him a break. The opportunity currently presented to him—fucking agony-ridden body aside—was equivalent to a silver platter.
Tybur was alive, escaping into the wilderness. Into prime shifter environment.
Exhausted but with wrath stirring a fresh dose of adrenaline from his already depleted supply, Levi would not pass on such a perfect chance.
With his limbs feeling like they were weighed with lead, he bent a knee up and pushed to a stand. Any remnants of sedation were nearly purged from his system, giving him access to shift, which he did with a grimace and smothered cry. Seconds later as his ribs adjusted to the new shape, Levi was back home in his pitch fur and on four legs that distributed his weight evenly over the lightly packed snow.
The world had changed for him, with scents sharpening into focus, colors dulling, and the landscape details refining in the dark. With a shake to ruffle out his coat, flexing and content that his skin fit comfortably around him, Levi went hunting.
***
Mike didn’t know what was happening. Four wolvens from Yeager’s pack had showed up with little warning and even fewer patience. One yanked the door to his cell open and hovered in the entryway with a barrel of a shotgun leveled at him. The remaining trio had filed in, grabbing at him to stand up from the cot and dragged him from the room.
Once he was a safe distance away from the prison, he resisted. It went about as well as he imagined with the security aiming straight for his stitched-up side. That may have been why his treatment took a turn for the worse, but he couldn’t churn up regret in testing his luck. Even if it did end with him bound to the steel table once more with his boots and socks missing. The gag in place was a new touch which he gnawed on to test the strength. They had not given him a shirt either and the pants were soiled in blood and grime.
Maybe there was a tiny bit of regret after all.
Willy’s sister was in the lab with another woman who looked to be a staff member, standing demurely to the side. Lara had yet to approach him with any 'Instruments of Discomfort' since he arrived there. That’s what he tried to mentally call them to keep the fear at bay. It helped to reduce the scalpel, forceps, arterial tubes, bone saw, and rib shears to something almost silly.
He didn’t dare voice his nickname to Lara. The tools weren’t so scary as opposed to the lunatic that wielded them. Fucking crazy bitch.
There were children present this time, and he wasn’t entirely sure if that was the reason for the delay in torture. Perhaps, she was waiting for them to leave before she started. Or worse, she was gearing up for a lesson for the family business. He was 92% certain they were the same children from Tybur’s dossier. Gods, how fucked up were these people? Why not just leave him in the cell?
“I can’t hear anything else happening,” the little blonde girl reported, ear pressed to the door.
Lara was sitting at the stool at her computer, clicking on something he couldn’t see while shooting glances at her phone beside the mouse. “Get away from the door. I told you; we must wait until your father gives the all clear.”
“But it’s boring in here," she whined, "And I want to know what’s going on outside. We never get gunfire at our homes.”
The younger boy lacked her enthusiasm, staying close to his aunt while shooting worried glances her direction.
“Poke around with the wolven there,” Lara waved a hand dismissively. “Just don’t kill him. Your father will be very upset.”
Mike twisted his head toward Lara, baffled that he was being reduced to a children’s pin cushion. A living board game of Operation.
Before he could protest, the girl pouted, “I don’t want to cut him open. I don’t even know who he is.”
“Is he father’s new pet?” the boy chimed in.
Lara snorted, undignified given her usual poise. “Not even. Your father still has Levi. This one is just collateral.”
Well, collateral was better than a child’s toy, he supposed.
He wanted to spout a series of questions that had been bouncing around his head the last few days, but with the gag in place and apprehension in encouraging the deranged children, he opted to simply observe.
Lara eventually stood up, locking the computer and straightening her clothes out. Grabbing what appeared to be dark grey chalk, she motioned for the kids to get back from the door before directing her attention to the woman still hovering along the wall.
“I’m going to be back shortly. You two behave and don’t kill him or touch my jars. Understand?”
After their promises, Lara left Mike alone with them and he internally prayed they remained bored rather than curious. It was probably cowardly to lay there, prone and stiff, but he liked to think of it as self-preservation. Vampiric children with proven desensitization to torture and alchemy was not a combination he was prepared to tussle with.
Mike knew some of the things Levi had been through, mostly whatever Erwin decided to inform them. It was clear that his best friend withheld more than he told Mike and Hange, but that wasn’t a surprise given Levi probably didn't give permission to share everything. There was a certain amount of filling in the blanks, but even then, Mike never would have come close to half the mucked up crap he’d seen so far. If he ever got out of this, he was going to treat the grim with all the milkshakes and tea that he wanted.
He just hoped he lived long enough to do so and see his wife again.
***
His legs trembled from the exertion through snowpack and steep, unexplored terrain. Erwin wiped at his brow furiously, having a sense in the back of his mind that warned of illness with sweat in these conditions, but it may as well have been a fly buzzing around for how little attention he paid it.
When he plunged into the shadows under the canopy, he lost sight of the black smoke against the matured night sky. Already at a disadvantage, he had to rely on his sense of bearing to guide him until a glade provided view of a section of trees further up that were missing their tops, as if a blade had swiped through them cleanly. Then, as if that wasn't haunting enough, morbid breadcrumbs entered his path with sheets of metal and fiberglass, a duffle bag, and a rod that suspiciously looked like belonged to a wing support. By the time he made it to the crash site and the carcass of the plane, the reaper guffawed at the stomach lurching image before him.
The wings were sheared off, one scattered 30 feet downhill and the other unaccounted for. Scattered around the newly created clearing were felled treetops, spare seats, peeled aluminum scraps, and hydraulic fluid that stained the fresh powder, appearing both like a graveyard and the aftermath of a battle.
Erwin spared only a second to absorb the sight before he forced his atrophied muscles toward the opening in the fuselage. Dense billows discharged from the wounds of the plane’s body, not unlike blood floating up from a fish carcass.
“Levi!”
He ducked into the largest opening, covering his sleeve over his nose and mouth, though it did nothing to abate the smoke. His eyes watered from the cloying toxins burning as he struggled to see through the chaotic insides. The pilot was dead on impact, and another body was crushed on the nose of the plane, but he recognized the size enough to conclude it wasn’t Levi.
Stumbling and tripping around the belly confirmed no one else was inside, although he knew enough about death to recognize that didn’t mean anything. With the compromised fuselage and the way it went into a tailspin, Levi could have been ejected out before the crash.
“Levi!” he called again as he exited the aircraft.
The snow fell in thick swathes as the wind cut down the slopes. Erwin continued to shout for his companion, zigzagging through the wreckage in the dark, hoping to find Levi resting against a tree or taking shelter under a sheet of aluminum. He was severely at a disadvantage with his poor eyesight, moonless sky, and the electrical fire that had caused the smoke had already died down to a useless candlelight.
“Levi! Where are you?!”
It's ok. I didn’t see any bodies coming up the mountain, is what he repeated to himself. Levi was here. Somewhere. Fine and safe and maybe a little banged up, but he wasn’t dead. Couldn't be.
Bringing his palms to his eyes, he rubbed to clear them of any soot, ignoring the dampness to his lashes as he forced himself to slow his breathing. Panicking wasn’t going to help anyone. He had to compartmentalize and keep his wits.
His exhales felt shaky and rattled, something felt lodged in his throat making it hard to swallow. Breathe. Just breathe.
Taking another deep inhale, he dropped his hands and tried to inventory the wreckage with a focused mind. He couldn’t keep searching the mountain in the dark and the cheap pre-paid phone was useless.
Running back to the plane, he dove inside and started ripping out seat cushions and moving debris. He was rewarded with the stocked emergency kit that he towed out with him to the clearing where he dug through it until he found a flashlight. Shining the weak beam around him only made the scene worse wherever the pool of light fell. Sharp and jagged details became focused in ways that war images still followed him into sleep, but there was a white-wash that watered it down from the near-blizzard conditions.
Despite the inches of snow covering the debris, Erwin repeated his search, which almost made him miss the remaining footprints that he partially destroyed in his haste. There were two sets leading into the forest to the west and it was with a jolt that he remembered Tybur was still unaccounted for.
As he trudged through the powder, following the tracks with fervent focus, he halted upon seeing the blood splatter right before a set of smaller footprints had turned into wide paws.
Levi. It was Levi. He was injured, but alive and well enough to shift.
Erwin wanted to feel relief, and in a way, there was a lightness that came over him by confirming he hadn’t missed a body on his way up. But the fact he was bleeding that much for the snow to not fully cover by now was alarming.
Rushing to the first aid kit, he scooped it up and started following the trail into the forest. The deeper he went into the woods, the greater hinderance the flashlight posed, reflecting off the snow and creating a glare. He just needed to see enough to not lose sight of the pawprints.
***
If Levi was thinking straight, he would have spared a longer thought about Erwin, like the fact he had to of seen the plane go down or was worried out of his mind. He didn’t though. Perhaps the shock of the crash and the trauma to his body knocked everything loose. Either way, he continued through the undergrowth in pursuit, his only thought being to hunt the fleeing vampire without pausing to consider the consequences.
He heard the prey before he saw anything. His nose was still clogged with smoke and melted plastic despite having covered distance through the rough terrain. The foot traces were easier to see the more he closed in, even without the crashing through brush. Still, vampires had speed as an advantage over Levi, and even injured with an apparent limp, Tybur was preserving a challenging pace.
Panting as he loped over downed logs, and pinning his ears back while diving through shrubs, Levi was able to cut through obstacles faster than if on two legs. There were annoying clumps of snow accumulating on fur, some snow catching on his snout and lashes, but another thicket of twigs did well to shake it off.
It was under a bough of drooping branches that Levi finally put eyes on the dark figure, disappearing behind shrubs and emerging on the other side.
Rejuvenated by how close he was to his goal, Levi pushed his injured body faster, lengthening his strides into a mad charge, paws eating up the ground with vigor. An eerie growl leaked from him, reverberating off the rocky outcropping on one side of the sentinel trees. Tybur must have heard him because he changed tactics, cutting hard to the right and then left, hoping to lose Levi through the denser understory.
Levi was far from deterred. In fact, there was a morbid sense of glee as his lips curled higher to bare his teeth. He let out another bark-like snarl, just to torment the vampire while his demonic form stayed out of direct sight. With the snow and wind, it created a sort of echo chamber where the threat trembled on the gusts.
Not tolerating being toyed with, Tybur snapped off a branch that was thick enough for a bat and tossed it at him. Levi juked for cover, rounding to flank the vampire as the branch cracked against the bole of a tree. Of course, the guy wasn’t going to leave himself so open and exposed. Pivoting to keep a general line of sight on Levi’s location, Tybur prepared to retaliate.
Seeing as the chase had come to an end, Levi shifted forms while suppressing a wince, and pressed his back against a thick spruce. Straining his hearing over the creaking trees and wind, he listened carefully for Tybur’s movement. The crunch of snow was nothing more than the man adjusting his stance, realizing his odds of out running the shifter was useless.
“Needing to catch your breath, you ancient fuck? I was just starting to enjoy myself.”
He could practically feel the man’s sneer cut through tree blocking him from view. “I’m surprised you bothered coming after me, pet. Figured you’d have run back to your reaper with your tail secured to your belly.”
Levi couldn’t tell if their voices were raised due to the raw hatred they carried for one another or just to be heard over the storm. Both, probably. The combustible emotions were sure to come out during this overdue confrontation whether they were in a quiet library or in the mountains.
“And leave you to skip off to some damp hole in the world? I don’t think so. You knew this day was coming. You just chose to ignore it. Fancied the appeal of having a tiger in a cage. Those stories always end the same, if you recall.”
“Look at you, Levi. Trying to be literate. All I hear is you confirming you’re nothing more than a rabid cur, biting the hand that fed you all these years.”
Levi took a chance to lean out and put eyes on the vampire only to duck back at the last second when branch collided with the tree. It was so close that splinters and bark sprayed against his face.
“That’s real mature for a 1000-year-old vampire. Throwing a tantrum never was beneath you.”
“I’m starting to realize now, that muzzle was a kindness, Levi. I should’ve had Lara cut your tongue out and sew your mouth shut.”
“Yeah," he drawled mockingly. "That's probably gonna eat at you for a while, huh? Luckily for you, you won’t have regrets for much longer.”
Tybur did not respond, forcing Levi to rely on listening for movement again. One hand was braced against his side where his aching ribs throbbed, vying for his attention, but he ignored it along with his other injuries. He wasn’t a fan of where he hid, the weathered rock face causing the wind to whistle. Swallowing, he took a chance for a new position, crouching low and lunging out of cover with his eyes set on the next tree.
It was a rock the size of a softball that lurched at his skull that time, which he barely cleared before it struck. Once he was safely behind the tree, he straightened and tried to get his craggy breathing under control.
There was only so much ammo Tybur could collect to maintain long range offense. Most of the useful debris was under snowpack and he wasn’t going to give the vampire time to start digging. The coven leader knew it, which was why he was probably considering his odds right about now.
To his right, was a closer tree which he was able to creep to with a naked thicket breaking up his movement until it was too late for Tybur to throw something else.
“So, what’s it going to be?” Levi taunted, feeling the damage throughout his body slowly creeping up in pain. The longer they stood in place, the worse it was going to get, regardless of his enhanced healing. “You going to run for it again or accept what’s coming?”
“Piss off, Levi! You think you can best me in a fight? That you can hunt me down? I’ve been hunting centuries before you were even a blimp in your mother’s womb!”
Levi felt his glare narrow, muscles in his jaw bunching. “Say what you will, but the devils already have your name. I’ll be sending you to them shortly.”
“Delusional child!” he snarled, angry or fearful over the idea of the Netherworld waiting.
There was a flex in the air, a waver that did not belong to the wind. Levi risked glancing out from the cover, instantly spotting the change. Tybur’s hair was disheveled and hanging in unkept strands over his face. Blood and moisture, either from sweat or melted snow, covered his face and his suit was stained and shredded at various seams. His leg was not bearing full weight as he crouched into a ready stance, claws and fangs wicked and sharp, ready to sink into the threat. Unarmed but even more dangerous than if he had a gun.
Levi stepped out from his cover with quiet, controlled movements. His arms hung by his sides to not announce any immediate injuries aside from what was apparent as he squared up to Tybur.
“You should’ve been put down when I grew bored of dear Isabel. The only thing you’ve been good for is disposal of bodies.”
“Big talk when I'm looking at you next.”
Tybur was absolutely feral as a malicious smile pulled at his lips, fangs having elongated to the point they couldn’t be hidden from view. There were no other threats or taunts. They each said their peace, laying out their animosity for the world.
With speed that was nearly impossible to follow with the dense snowfall, Tybur charged at Levi who lunged to meet him after a second of delay. The vampire was faster, stronger, and older in the way that made one not frail and wary, but powerful and rancorous. They were both sporting wounds from the crash, there was no point in using that as a variable to size the opponent up, but Levi did have his own advantages that Tybur had not fought against.
Just as the vampire wheeled back his gnarly claws to rip Levi’s head from his body, he shifted forms in a blink of an eye, turning into the demonic hellhound in the next stride and latching his jaws on Tybur’s ankle. The man raged at the ignited pain right as Levi twisted his haunches around with the momentum, causing the vampire to collapse on the ground. There was nothing sweet or pet-like in the ferocity that Levi yanked his head back and forth, hackled raised and putting his whole body behind the deathly tugs meant to separate joints.
Spinning to his back, snarling and screaming, Tybur kicked at Levi’s face, the power behind it was enough to crack his skull. Not willing to make a fatal mistake due to stubbornness of holding on, Levi relented and released his bite before the heel could land.
No sooner did his jaws slacken enough to pull away from, Tybur was already off the ground like gravity could not grip him and launched at Levi. Wild swings connected the side of his face, slicing his cheek and muzzle while another grazed his shoulder. Snarling, he darted to the side to get out of immediate range and latched his teeth on Tybur’s thigh, drawing out a spurt of blood as a chunk of flesh was removed.
Hissing at the canine, Tybur sides-swept his claws low, aiming to rake them into Levi’s ribs but as he bent to reach him, Levi shifted and swung upwards with his fist, clocking the taller man in the jaw and snapping his head back. He stumbled a few feet away, only for the grim to kick him in the stomach, toppling him onto the ground once more.
Fury tarnished Levi's capacity to recall what happened in the following seconds. What he recalled was showering blows down onto Tybur’s face, using as much force as possible to break through the man’s arms that were lifted to block him. His own claws had elongated, though were nothing like the deadly talons of the vampire’s, but that didn’t distract from the skin and blood gathering beneath his nailbeds.
An elbow slam into his own face brought him rudely back into his body, knocking the breath out of him and causing the world to go fuzzy. Another followed after and before he knew it, Tybur was out from under him, lifting him up by the front of his shirt and throwing him into a tree like a doll.
Everything turned white, which wasn’t saying much given the amount of snow trying to drown them out but even the dark scepters of trees disappeared momentarily. It felt like every disc of his spine was reshuffled as he collapsed into a boneless heap. He lay there wheezing, eyes squeezed shut, while trying to tamp down the agony that echoed in pulses. Between his overloaded nervous system and blood pounding in his ears, he didn’t hear Tybur approach until he was pulled onto his stomach and his arm was wrenched to the side until—
CRACK
The immediate and new pain was equivalent to a fresh wave cresting over the beach, a never-ending cycle on repeat. Levi’s lungs were still sucking in cold-needle-like oxygen which left his scream voiceless.
His face pressed into the snow as Tybur released his dislocated arm like it was garbage where it sunk into the powder, entirely limp. If he was hoping the injury would dampen Levi’s wrath, Tybur was in for a wake-up call. The good thing about a dislocated arm was that the pain was intense at first, but it tapered quicker than other damage. Increments of control returned.
The bastard was saying something overhead, some mumbled gloating if he had to guess. It never quite reached him though. Even when Tybur lifted him to his feet as if he weighed nothing, propping him against the tree as he leered at him with greedy hunger. The coven leader’s nose was broken and bleeding out of his nostrils and a gash over the bridge. One eye was already swelling and red, the wound in the temple reopened and streaking blood down the man’s neck, dark enough to look like tar. Levi could see the red painted snow and scars from their fight marring the pristine blanket over his shoulder, but it wasn’t enough.
The man responsible for all his torment, for killing Izzy and being the reason those wolvens in the bar to searching for a business gift all those years ago, causing Furlan to die in some back alley... He was right here, standing so close Levi could make out the shades of blue in his eyes, see how flat they were compared to Erwin’s.
So, Levi smiled.
A blood-coated toothy smile that lacked any warmth. Whatever accompanied his emoted gaze shut the man up from whatever he was in the middle of saying, just as Levi headbutted him in the face, cracking Tybur’s nose again.
It probably said something about Levi’s condition for it not to have much of an impact. There were no specific techniques available to limit pain on the user. A headbutt was a double-edged blade, injuring both parties involved. Never recommended, and yet here he was, doing it with a smile on his face and not suffering another episode of mottled vision. Perhaps his brain was already traumatized by a concussion.
Either way, he stepped into Tybur’s space as he regained balance and swung, connecting a fist into Tybur’s throat where he gagged. Being limited to one arm was enough for Levi to play it cautious while lingering in the vampire’s striking range, and every time he stepped in, he was delivered a retaliating blow. After three more exchanges, they were reduced to bloody messes scrapping it out as attacks grew sloppy and desperate, breaths turning wet, and limbs feeling taxed.
The talons raked into Levi’s hip, once again too slow to dodge, but rather than retreating, he stayed in Tybur’s circle wailing his arm out and catching Tybur’s cheek in a backhand. The vampire toppled to the side, scrambling feet keeping him from falling but Levi pursued. He wasn’t going to die here. He wasn’t going to let Tybur get away.
It wasn’t fucking happening.
Feeling his gums warm, the humid plumes of breath steamed thicker in a sulphury cloud, and he was rewarded with pure, unholy fear stamping across Tyrbur’s eyes.
“No!” he retaliated, turning all his speed into offensive attacks.
Levi knew he had no way to counter or dodge them, already suffering from blood loss, broken ribs and dislocated arm amongst many other wounds. His body had slowed significantly, rage only able to carry him so far. So, when Tybur tried to wrap his hands around Levi’s throat while he retreated to keep distance, he did the only thing he had in his pocket, dislocated shoulder be damned.
Levi shifted.
The hellhound, turning into a coal black shape of death at Tybur’s feet, lunged upwards meeting the vampire in mid attack. His teeth sank into the supple flesh of the vampire’s throat, puncturing into the meat with the man’s ribbed trachea pressed against Levi’s tongue. Hot coppery fluid gushed into his mouth and over his muzzle as the vampire gurgled and choked on a distressed cry, toppling them both to the ground.
With no sense of empathy or humanity, Levi twisted his head back and forth whenever Tybur tried clawing at his eyes or limp front leg. He tried rolling himself free from the grim, as if not taking into consideration that doing so would rip his throat out completely, but Levi stuck with him, praising the heat of his power as it started searing the vampire’s flesh. The squalling threatened to deafen Levi, animalistic death screeches in their last moments.
Keep bleating, lamb, Levi mused darkly.
The sticky algae film of a soul touched his tongue, coating a layer as it seeped from the vampire’s cooling body into his mouth. He couldn’t imagine the horror Tybur felt in that fading moment of awareness. Levi had felt heartaching terror when he was fed upon, so he knew having your soul pulled from your living carcass was worse. Too bad Tybur's soul wasn’t going to get a chance to recover.
In a last moment of clarity before Levi finished him, he had the sick amusement that Tybur was going to die. He would die on the side of a mountain after gloating and preening during a dinner party, believing he would win against Erwin and Levi. And yet all he would do would be carrion for the crows, dying without ever learning what Levi truly was. Because now, experiencing the death bite of a hellhound, the vampire would know Levi was never a genetic rarity of a loup-garou like he assumed. He was something much worse.
For someone who enjoyed poetry, this was a special kind of beautiful to Levi.
Growling deep from his chest, he sent that fiery wrath into the punctures of the throat, chasing out that ancient density that tasted stained and rotten. The vampire’s wails abruptly cut off, plunging the blood soaked clearing into a gravely silence.
***
Levi didn’t know how long he stayed there after Tybur’s soul was burned from existence.
Under the persistent storm and dizziness from blood loss, he chose to wait right where he was, still in canine form to fight off the cold. Their blood in the snow had already cooled and Tybur’s body would never be a source of comfort for Levi, regardless of any lingering heat.
So, he stayed where he was, savoring the strange sense of calm that surrounded him.
Tybur was no more.
He kept his promise.
He avenged Izzy and everyone the fucker ever hurt.
He didn’t feel gratified in the way he imagined. Calm, certainly, but the satisfaction and reprieve were oddly numb and out of reach. In a way, he felt cheated, just as he had when he killed the wolven and men responsible for his mum’s death.
Like it wasn’t enough.
It is, he reminded himself. In the ways it mattered, it was enough.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there after Tybur’s soul was burned from existence.
But it became a little easier to breathe. Even as he curled as much into a semblance of a ball against a tree, his lungs expanded in a way that made him think there was more room in his chest cavity. Like a lumpy decay was removed after being lodged between his ribs for so long.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there...
But he heard someone stomping through the forest, panting heavily.
At first, he stiffened and sat up from his ball, preparing for the noise of a dying creature attracting a bear or mountain lion. A beat later and Levi was mentally kicking himself as the familiar wideset shoulders of his reaper broke through the brush, intrusive flashlight sweeping over what was essentially a crime scene. The circle lingered on the distorted body already collecting a thin layer of snow before panning to the black dog.
“Levi!”
The single word was said with palpable relief and fear as Erwin covered the last of the distance between them in a sprint. A pitiful—he’d admit it—whine left him as his tail gave willful wags before Levi bit the bullet and shifted back. His ribs protested but not as loudly as his arm which sagged at his side just as Erwin fell to his knees in front of him. He didn’t even get a word out before he was enveloped into Erwin’s chest, inhaling sweat and ash and still—very faint—something natural to Erwin. Just as Levi closed his eyes, leaning into the warm body, Erwin came to his senses and pulled back, hands pushing Levi enough to inventory the damage done.
“Shit—Levi... How bad is it? There’s so much blood—here!”
He peeled the first aid strap off his shoulder, yanking the zipper open while one hand still held the flashlight, effectively blinding Levi a few times. The torch strobed across the canopy as the reaper fumbled out some bandages and Levi wanted to berate him but found his concern endearing given when he’d been through.
“What’s the worst? I can pack it so we can get down the mountain,” he rattled, going into some mockery of combat medic as he held out gauze and wrap like an offering between them, “I think I saw a petrol station down the road that may have more bandages--”
“Erwin,” he rasped, feeling self-conscious when the reaper’s gaze dropped to his lips. He could feel dried blood coated down his chin and knew it was from Tybur. Still, he managed to refrain from wiping at it. “I’m glad you came.”
The reaper’s wide gaze softened. After a beat, he transferred the items to one hand and wrapped the other around Levi’s shoulders pulling him into another hug. This time it was gentler as if he wasn’t afraid Levi would melt away, and his cheek rested in Levi’s hair. Swallowing irony saliva, Levi intertwined his numb fingers into Erwin’s coat, only then realizing how much he was shivering.
Erwin planted a kiss onto Levi’s hairline, pulling back enough to drag his palm to cup Levi’s face and rub a finger over the bruised cheek. Those cornflower blues reflected the yellow gleam from the flashlight, and Levi couldn’t be certain if it was a trick of the shadows or if Erwin had been tearing up. Any following contemplation was dismissed when he leaned down and touched his lips tenderly to Levi’s.
He had to resist cringing away, knowing the mess that was caked to his face. Uneasy, even with the soft feather-like contact, Levi relaxed his shoulders and accepted. Filthy as it was, there was something sacred about it, something wrong and twisted and taboo, and yet the reason for the blood was also virtuous. The Universe setting itself right again by holding the other end of the leash.
They lingered there for only a moment, just enough to get the unspoken message across that neither were ready to voice before he pressed his forehead to Levi’s, thumb still stroking his face.
“You scared the hell out of me, Levi. Do you know how reckless that was making the plane crash?”
Levi pulled away and narrowed his eyes at Erwin. “Who said it was my fault?
“It doesn’t take a psychic to put two-and-two together, Levi. That was a stupidly senseless plan, even for you.”
Someone was irate.
Erwin must have been satisfied that Levi wasn’t on death’s door after he chose not to respond. Or he knew they were on a time crunch given the snowstorm they were foolishly kissing in.
Yeah, not exactly the time or place for romantic reunions, Levi scoffed.
“In my defense, we were at lower elevation when I started choking the pilot,” Levi finally defended as Erwin startled rolling up the hem of the shirt. Serrated lacerations continued to discharge warm fluid, but the worst of it had slowed. “Careful with the ribs—” he hissed as Erwin pressed too firmly against one of the wounds.
“Sorry,” he amended under his breath, eyes flicking to Levi’s before returning to his efforts. “Broken ribs, I’m guessing. There’re already contusions coloring your side a nice shade of plum-dumb purple.”
“Yeah, smartass,” Levi rolled his eyes at the passive insult. “Plane.”
“And the gashes are from Zeke or Tybur?”
Levi let his gaze peruse casually to the body. “Tybur.”
Erwin hummed, briskly introducing the gauze against the lesions and started to wrap one-handed. Levi’s only good arm was holding his shirt out of the way as Erwin wound the bandage across his abdomen with just enough pressure to keep the packing in place.
“Tybur wouldn’t happen to have a cellphone on him, would he? I couldn't help but notice that he’s misplaced his soul somewhere.”
“Clumsy him,” Levi retorted, keeping Erwin’s reaction in his peripheral. He was certain Erwin wouldn’t hold the blatant murder against Levi, but he also knew—rather embarrassingly too late—that keeping Tybur alive would have made it a little easier for an arrest and to possibly clear the wrongful charges on them. Hopefully, Erwin wasn’t banking on taking Tybur back. “Not sure about the phone. Why?”
Erwin didn’t look away from Levi’s shoulder, moving to the side to position himself better.
“Because I didn’t bother stopping by on my way out of the prison to pick up mine. Hange got me a pre-paid phone but it’s out of battery. Figured she needs to know what happened here. Deep breath.”
Levi inhaled and after his exhale depleted, there was a sharp jolt that cause him to yelp.
“Sorry,” Erwin repeated, massaging the joint to help the pain subside. While Levi recentered himself, he continued speaking. “Hange isn’t going to be happy to hear about Tybur’s death. She made me promise not to kill him.”
“Technically, you didn’t.”
“No,” one corner of his lips quirked, “but the dead don’t speak, and that’s kind of important to nail him for the murders.”
“Unless you perform necromancy, you mean?” Levi countered, staring at Erwin in the corner of his eye.
The hands massaging his shoulder paused and for a split-second Levi was anticipating the reaper slumping in regret or shame. Instead, he merely shrugged and went back to what he was doing.
“That’s a whole other issue I’ll have to deal with, yes. But not the immediate concern.”
“Hmm,” Levi allowed them to return to the first topic, knowing that his original point would flop regardless. While Tybur’s throat was still intact to speak, there was the immovable issue of Erwin being unable to summon a soul that no longer existed. “Well, can’t we just tell Hange he died in the plane crash?”
“Oh? Is that how all those bite marks came to be?” Erwin sassed, his worry translating into annoyance. “Stop the presses, this is news to forensics across the country.”
“You’re hilarious,” Levi griped dryly, eyes closing as he leaned closer to Erwin’s body heat. Sensing his drop in temperature from blood loss, Erwin shimmied out of his coat and draped it around Levi’s smaller frame. It would make bandaging the last of the injuries a hassle but better than catching hypothermia or going into shock. “In case it escaped your knowledge, Blondie, we’re in the mountains. Give it a day or two and those marks will be indistinguishable from all the other animals needing an easy meal.”
“While true, Hange still needs to be made aware. There’s no getting around that.”
Levi sighed, not having the energy to argue. “Fine.”
The snow was not letting up, but at least it wasn’t getting worse. After Erwin finished splinting his ankle, he helped Levi to stand and went to loot Tybur’s pockets. Upon finding the phone had been broken during the getaway, he gave up and returned to help Levi walk.
“I could just shift, you know. Four legs are better than two.”
“Or not... Here.” He handed Levi the flashlight, choosing to abandon the remains of the first aid against the tree.
Levi accepted the torch, watching curiously as Erwin turned around and knelt in front with his back facing him. “Er...”
“Hop on.”
“Yeah—Pass.”
“Levi—”
“No. I can walk.”
“You’re being childish, now just--”
“I just murdered my sworn enemy in--literally—cold blood, in the middle of a snowstorm, on the side of a fucking mountain. I’m not being carried by you just—”
“You’re technically ‘riding’, not being carried.”
“I don’t give a damn, Erwin.”
“Stop being stubborn and get on. The incline is steeper than you think, and the snow is a hazard in itself. We need to get you out of the cold, and you’ve lost too much blood to be walking.”
“I didn’t lose that much.”
Erwin shot him an impatient glare over his shoulder, amusement turning sour. “The clearing looks like Pablo Picasso had a battle with Henri Matisse.”
“... I don’t get that reference,” Levi grumbled, tugging the jacket higher around his ears.
“All the more reason to get on.”
Rolling his eyes at the futility of the situation, Levi relented and folded his arms over Erwin’s shoulders, accepting the guidance of his legs around the reaper’s waist. With no dramatic flair, Erwin stood up, bounced him lightly to a higher position. Careful not to jar his ribs too much, they started back toward the fading footprints. Levi did well with his unspoken role of lighting the way, so he managed to take some solace in being helpful.
“What’s your plan?”
“Hm?” Erwin asked, navigating around a boulder at a steady, strong pace.
“Your plan. Isn’t the car totaled? And we don’t have a phone.”
“The car isn’t totaled but it will be a very cold drive down the mountain once I can reverse it off whatever its stuck on. But I figured maybe you could put your hotwiring skills to use again, and we can simply take the one they brought you here in. We may be able to dump it before we get to a small town and get a room for the night. Use the hotel phone to call Hange and Nanaba.”
“Oh, shit.”
“What?” Erwin queried, sensing Levi’s urgency and pulling to a halt.
“Mike.”
“Mike?”
“Mike’s at Tybur’s place. You didn’t get him out, did you?”
“I didn’t know he was there—Tybur had him?”
“Yeah, he’s with Lara in the basement. Tybur used him as collateral to keep me from acting out.”
“Son of a bitch,” Erwin’s grip on Levi’s thighs tightened, voice turning wire tight. “We didn’t know what happened to him. He’s been missing and we had no idea.”
Levi mulled that over, feeling questions take rough shapes in his mind but failed short of molding into anything worth asking. He knew once he spouted the first off, more would pop up and, honestly, his adrenaline was leaving him feeling like a sack of uselss potatoes.
“I think we’ll need to have a long talk about everything we missed. Don’t think I’m letting the necromancy part go. I fucking thought they were zombies.”
At the mumbled admission, Erwin chuckled, acting like a comfy pillow for Levi to rest his cheek against.
“Mike would have thought the same thing. Or maybe he did, though when I left, there weren’t many bodies still standing. I doubt any made it past the foyer of the house.”
“Talk about crashing a party.”
“I had a feeling that’s what all the cars were there for. Too bad the Maserati lost a fight with the plane. It was fun to drive.”
Levi huffed, fingers of one hand wrapped around the other wrist to hold the flashlight in place while he closed his eyes. “You’re fucking insane for that. I thought I was the unstable one.”
Erwin laughed lightly, thumbs kneading circles into his thigh, lulling him closer to the edge of sleep. He didn’t respond for a while and Levi tried to keep himself on the cusps of a light doze with the jacket collar popped-up and blocking most of the snow. But at some point, he thought he heard Erwin reply before the wind swept it away.
“For you, I’d do it again.”
***
The night was far from over.
It took them almost an hour to make it down the mountain and by the time Erwin was able to bring them to the other end of the airstrip, Levi could barely jumpstart Tybur's car with how numb his fingers were. At this rate, they’d be lucky if they dodged frostbite. With heaters blasting and the reprieve from the weather, they left the airfield behind and drove back to help Mike.
When they finally made it back to the estate, the yard that greeted them looked just as uninviting, if not worse, than the plane crash. Bodies in various stages of decomposition were strewn across the driveway leading to the house, with all cars having vacated the premises. Erwin half anticipated police to already be present, but given the illicit proclivities Tybur and his followers were known for, it wasn’t an entire surprise no one was willing to call the authorities to investigate the interruption. If by some chance they had called law enforcement, the storm was surely cause for the delay.
Not willing to give their opponents time to recuperate, Erwin and Levi decided to make quick work of the extraction of their friend. Lara and the children were likely still in the basement, awaiting word from Tybur whether it was safe or not, or even where they were meant to rendezvous at. It made sense for the Tyburs to split up and bunker down to wait when Erwin (the one and only attacker) left into a daring pursuit. Fortunately for Levi and Erwin, it meant any remaining security was sparse and the house mostly empty.
The unfortunate takeaway from that was the distress and damage sustained during the fight was enough to finally catch up with Levi. His pace had slowed considerably as he directed Erwin through the house, having to rely on the reaper to go first down corridors and rooms. It was hasty and sloppy the way they cleared sections at a time, a brief survey to ensure no immediate threats were waiting for them to pass before ambushing them. Their luck continued to hold even with the stragglers of security that popped out like moles, which Erwin subdued quickly, knocking each one out.
Levi assumed it was simply a convenience to debilitate them rather than escalate things with more death. It was after he was able to shake off the remaining residue of survival that made him realize stunning their opponents was a necessity rather than a kindness. Broken laws aside, they were still tied to GSIS and were otherwise law-abiding citizens prior to Tybur’s ploy.
Thank the devils Erwin was there. Levi was still channeling the poisonous ‘kill or be killed mentality’. There was a stab of guilt that followed when he realized how easy and familiar it was to fall into old habits.
Things took a turn for the worse when they reached the basement door.
While the rest of the house was shrouded in shadows, the hum of a backup generator droned somewhere below. The cold, sterile lights were a harsh adjustment for their eyes, causing them to blink rapidly to clear their vision.
No sooner did they get to the sublevels of the home did two guards came into view, discussing something amongst themselves. Having fallen complacent in their duties, Erwin gave them no chance to recovery.
The first spotted them over his coven mate’s shoulder, causing his eyes to bulge as he reached for his gun. The reaper was already closing the distance, leaving the shifter in his wake as he thrust the end of his scythe into the vampire’s chest, knocking him back into the wall behind him. His skull cracked against concrete, crumpling him into an unconscious heap.
The second vampire fell into a fighting stance after shuffling a few meager feet away, but received barely a thoughtful glance from Erwin before he was shoved with an invisible force. Tumbling and rolling backwards, the vampire righted himself onto his knees only to meet the wooden staff to the jaw.
Levi felt useless holding his side and limping closer. Relying on Erwin to do most of the heavy lifting and clearing out threats was not his idea of a daring rescue, though there was little he could do about it. His body, despite small portions fed regularly, was still starved of nutrition and his was already compromised by the amount of chemicals that needed flushing out. Pain also had a way of sapping strength from someone, be it physically, mentally, or emotionally.
He wasn’t complaining, though. It was just the facts. He just didn’t like them.
Erwin’s pinched expression softened as Levi drew up beside him, reaching out to rub a thumb over the contusions that were darkening at his hairline. “Are you ok to continue?”
Normally, Levi would snark at the concern, possibly find some offense in the worry over his capability. But not now. Currently, even he could admit it was a justified question. The acute intensity of his ribs reminded him of that with ever step down to the basement, feeling like he was wading through wet concrete.
“I’m good,” he confirmed, tilting his chin toward the door at the end of the hall. “Mike should be up ahead. Let’s get him and get the fuck out of here.”
Erwin had no opposition to that, hand falling to his side as he carried the scythe at his hip. The commotion in the corridor would have alerted anyone hiding that there was someone unwelcomed in the basement and Levi hoped they didn’t put Mike into a hostage situation. There were only so many experiences he wanted to squeeze into one night and he was well past his quota.
As the reaper strode through the hall, eager to end it just as much as Levi, there was a crash through one of the doors to their right. Both men pulled to an abrupt halt, bristling as they faced the closed barrier between them.
Catching Levi’s gaze, Erwin nodded his chin toward the room, brows knitted in question that translated: What’s in there?
Levi, having only been in that portion of the basement once, shook his head with one shoulder lifting in a mockery of a shrug. Returning their attention to the mysterious source of disturbance, Erwin held his scythe at the ready as Levi positioned himself flushed against the wall to open the door when told to.
A nod later, he twisted the handle, found it unlocked, and shoved it out of the way.
Erwin charged in, ready to meet the threat head on when a figure spun around in alarm. From where Levi was, standing in the doorway, he recognized the woman who recovered from her confusion and indignation. A sly smile twisted up after her gaze locked with his fleetingly before returning to the reaper between them.
“Erwin Smith,” she eluded, as if the rolled-up sleeves and charcoal-like powder coating her hands were a normal occurrence.
The room was significantly darker than the hallway, a contrasting shaft of light hitting their backs and casting long shadows into the dim room. Glancing at the ceiling, Levi noticed the lamps had been blown, purposefully shattered. He didn’t know why Lara didn’t just turn off the light switch unless she was planning on hiding in the dark for them to leave.
But then if that was the case, where were the children? And were there more unfriendlies lurking nearby?
“I see you got my brother’s pet. Where’s Willy at?” Her masquerading smile turned vicious though tried for nonchalant, “Did you kill him?”
“No,” Erwin replied curtly, not delving further, “Where’s Mike?”
“What? One wolven isn’t enough? Have to take mine too?”
“Mike’s not yours,” Levi snapped, one arm bracing his side, the other on the doorframe. “Where is he, Lara?”
The vampire’s eyes jagged from one to the other, then back to Erwin. If Levi was in his canine form, he knew his hackles would be raised, muzzle wrinkled in a snarl. He had a distinct feeling that they were facing a bomb, and any wrong move would detonate it. Something just wasn’t adding up.
Lara wasn’t a fighter. She tinkered and took things apart and encouraged Tybur with whispers from behind his chair. Why was she in the room, in the dark, waiting for them? Because that’s what she was doing, right? This wasn’t the stance of someone wanting to hide, but rather someone mimicking a trapdoor spider.
He wanted to convey his gut feeling to Erwin, despite the risk of pulling his attention away from the vampire and leaving him open, but he didn’t get a chance to when the reaper spoke.
“Tell us where he is and we’ll leave. We aren’t here for anything else.”
“Did you kill my brother?” she demanded again, fighting stance coiling tighter.
He couldn’t see Erwin’s face, but his voice matched the rising tension. “I did not.”
“You’re lying,” she hissed, baring fangs. “He would’ve called already!”
“I don't know what to tell you. Must be bad reception.”
The distasteful jab was cut off as she charged at Erwin, speed faster than the reaper’s abilities. He managed to dodge the first strike but was forced to plant his foot further back as his scythe caught the incoming blow. Despite being shorter than the reaper, her lifespan was just shy of her brother’s meaning the increased strength made up for the age.
She slammed into Erwin with enough inertia to knock him on his back. Levi made a move to intervene but was held up by Erwin’s call to stay back. Had he not been injured enough to fit the definition of liability, he would have ignored the man and tackled the vampire, but even he knew he couldn’t hold his own against someone as powerful and fresh as Lara in his current condition.
As she lunged to pin the reaper, and most likely to fillet him open, Erwin slammed the butt of his staff into her face.
The woman gasped and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground ungracefully. Erwin was quick to get on his feet, long strides covering the distance as she rolled to a stand. His swing was wide, even for the smaller room they battled in, and Lara was nimble. She dipped and sliced into Erwin’s thigh, only to catch an elbow to the face.
Dancing out of immediate range, Erwin made sure to follow after the vampire, swiping his blade diagonally where it carved against the concrete before the antlers deflected it from the wall, but not before sparks brightened the corner for a beat. The impact gave Lara space to get away and reposition her stance as Erwin turned, spinning the scythe in his hand as if shaking off debris.
“I’m not here to kill you, Lara. Just tell me where you’re holding Mike.”
Lara refused to play any of Erwin’s games. The reaper may not have an intention to kill her, but the sentiment wasn’t returned. She wanted his blood, no doubt believing her brother to be dead by his hands.
When Erwin charged at her, ramming the length of his staff to pin her to the wall, she gripped the wood and pushed back.
“Tell me where he is!”
“He’ll be divided up into jars when I’m done with him,” she shouted, adjusting her grip to try windmilling the scythe out of his hold. But Erwin didn’t relent more than a couple of inches.
With a kicked aimed at Erwin’s knee, he managed to sidestep enough to not get a solid hit that was bound to snap his leg. Even with the bruising impact, it sacrificed his footing enough so she could slip away while slicing her claws into his side. As he stumbled forward, back now exposed, she leapt onto him, sinking her teeth into Erwin’s shoulder and causing him to cry out.
Grabbing a fist full of hair, he yanked her forward, toppling over him and slamming into the ground. Taking a moment to gather his bearings, Erwin retreated a few steps, hand covering the bloody bite staining his clothes and neck.
Levi grimaced from the doorway, taking a step closer as if to join the fight, when Erwin shook his head.
“I’m fine--missed the artery.”
That did little to assuage Levi's fury for the woman, starting to think Erwin should just kill her to get it over with so they could search the basement themselves. As Lara climbed to her feet, prepared to launch forward at her injured opponent, Levi decided he was still good for something:
A distraction.
“Oi, you twisted bitch! You were right.” Her head snapped in his direction, just as Erwin shot him a pointed glare. Levi ignored the reaper, staring stonily at Lara. “Your brother is dead. I killed him.”
As if to rub salt and lemon juice in the wound, he cracked a smile at her stricken face and thumbed the corner of his lip for show.
“This blood is his. Killed him with the same bite that he was always afraid of. Made sure to drag it out too, just so he could feel his soul turning to ash as he wept about it...”
A heartbeat was all it took.
Her face contorted, turning monstrous and her fangs elongated further, face wrinkling in a way that suggested a bat-like shift more than bunched skin. Levi’s eyes widened unwillingly, spine becoming rigid as a cold burst of fear zapped through him. What the fuck?!
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the words experimentation, ancient, and alchemy floated as possible answers, yet none of it mattered. She sprinted at him with a speed that was too fast for Levi to dodge, and he found himself bracing for a very painful attack. He didn’t even hear Erwin’s terrified shout for him, or notice until the last hair of a second that a scythe was swinging in his line of sight too.
Just as Lara lurched at his throat, the blade swept into her chest, stopping her dead in mid-stride. Her face slackened in misunderstanding, eyes ringed in an unholy tone and standing so close, Levi could make out the hollow cheeks and upturned nose.
The only sound was Erwin and Levi’s heavy breathing, the splash of blood on the floor and wet choke Lara heaved before her eyes drooped. Slumping to her knees as the last of the strength left her, Erwin angled his blade so as she fell backwards on her shoulder blades, her body slid off the scythe with an obscene squelch.
Lifting his gaze to meet Erwin’s, Levi let out a long breath, feeling the tension melt out from under him as Lara drew her last breaths.
“I can’t take these scares anymore, Levi,” Erwin berated, tilting his head heavenward as if searching for patience to be granted down by a higher being. “You’re really inclined to make me die of heart failure here. Had I known this would be the reception from you, I would’ve stayed in prison.”
Levi shook his head, watching the weak rise and fall of Lara’s chest. “You’re not exactly easy on my stress levels either, Blondie. Should’ve killed her much sooner than trying to interrogate her.”
“I’ll concede you that point,” he doled while dropping his gaze to the woman. Erwin’s jaw ticked. “It’s a kindness that she doesn’t deserve, but I supposed I should put her out of her misery.”
The vampire’s lips gaped with a low wheeze, struggling to swallow oxygen. The horizontal puncture in her chest left the odds of either lung functioning basically nonexistent. It was an unsettling image, that had Levi’s throat constricting around a lump, even as her pupils trembled while slowly glazing over.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Guess we should.”
Erwin sighed, stepping deeper into the room. Blood was spreading out like a carmine oil spill as the front of her clothes dampened with the same fluid. Dispersing the scythe, Erwin leaned down and grasped either side of Lara’s head, almost as if cradling her from soaking in the pool beneath her. There were no words of remorse or gloating. A simple snap of her neck and her body went still.
Another tormentor gone from the world, Levi concluded bleakly, once again missing that spark of satisfaction.
As Erwin bent his knee to stand up, the room gradually began to lighten. It took Levi a beat too long to make sense of what was happening as his eyes dropped to the floor inside the room, turning brighter as blended grey lines started to luminate. It began beneath Lara’s body and spread out like water through a creek channel, connecting to other pathways and forming a massive circle.
“Oh, fuck,” Levi breathed, eyes widening as a wave of cold, inevitable acceptance blanketed over him.
He realized at the last moment, even as Erwin must have come to the same conclusion that the unknown sigil in the center of the chalk markings had been activated.
“Erwin! Get out of there!”
The reaper was already running for the door before Levi got the words out. The air pulsated around them, trembling with charged energy and it took Levi a ridiculous amount of effort to smother the instinct urging him to get far away.
Erwin was almost there. Right there!
Levi positioned himself to one side of the threshold, giving the reaper plenty of room to barrel through without slowing down. The illumination gave a pulse like a heartbeat, and then another--a ba-dum rhythm just as Erwin reached the edge of the circle.
And then a flash with all the blinding intensity of an atomic bomb detonating.
The burst of light penetrated Levi’s eyes, causing them to burn and his temple to throb, but there was never a sound that followed. No blast. No second breath or thudding footfalls.
Using his arm to block the light, Levi blinked rapidly as the power in the room subsided, forcing his eyes to adjust while his other fingers dug into the door frame, splintering it. When he was finally able to make out shapes in the room, the illumination had died out to a faint glow that weakened until finally going dark.
The only thing he could hear was his frantic breathing, and for some reason, he was hit with the sensation of being the only living thing within miles. As if he just witnessed the apocalypse and he was the only survivor.
“Erwin?” his voice cracked as the whisper felt far too loud.
As he took in the hallway on either side, hoping to find Erwin hunched low and catching his breath, he realized he truly was alone outside of the room.
“No-no-no...” He stumbled inside, crossing the once again camouflaged evocation circle and spun around, searching every corner. “Erwin? Erwin! Don’t fucking do this—don’t you fucking dare do this to me!”
Trembles wracked through him as he snapped his head back and forth, trying to wrestle the panic down and think about what just happened. Only Lara’s body was inside the room, blood slowing down as it emptied out of her.
Erwin wasn’t gone—he’s here. He got out. I just overlooked him.
Levi limped as fast as he could toward the doorway only to slip in the puddle and fall onto his injured shoulder with a cry. Cursing under his breath, he shoved himself up, coming face to face with Lara who stared blankly right through him. He wanted to sneer at her corpse, pull her soul back to the living just to shred it, but all that wrath stuttered with no outlet as soon as Levi saw something that chilled his own blood.
Faint and fair as a lady would display for coy flirtation, her lips were lifted into a satisfied smile—one that was not there when she was dying slowly on the floor. A smile that said she knew she won.
Trapdoor spider.
The mantra repeated as he tucked his knees under him and pulled at his hair, realizing their mistake far, far too late.
Trapdoor spider. Trapdoor spider.
There was nothing he could do except implode. No one to catch in the blast and bring down with him. Levi screamed until it felt like he was ripping his own throat and heart out, willing whatever ill intent fell upon Erwin to take him too.
He screamed until even the echoes couldn’t ricochet and mimic his pain.
Notes:
Um...
Stay safe and have a good weekend...?
**Goes and hides at safe house**
🖤🩶
Chapter 36: Respite
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
***
There was almost an All-American charm to Colt Grice. Mused dirty-blond hair that could look styled when fresh out of bed or groomed with an impermeable hold through the power of fragrant pomade. A consummate student with deceptively easy-going smiles and warm handshakes and “I’ll have her home by 9:30, sir” magnetism. It was no shock why the fellow mortal students were allured with promises of grander futures if they abided by the ‘murder-tests’. Even Levi could see how such tempting webs could form from boyish innocence through the grainy screen of the television.
The shitty camera in the court room panned to another angle, catching the prosecutor walking to the stand. Straight edges to a dark suit, lean frame, acute posture. He listed off questions to Colt, expertly pulling out the details of instructions, motivations, conversations. Times, places, and the overall goals Tybur had aimed for.
None of the responses made it to Levi. It wasn’t like they were watching the live feed of the courtroom, just the reruns while there was a recess before a final verdict was made.
He slouched in the conference chair with his feet propped onto another seat as he stared blankly at the screen. Unseeing, unhearing. Levi didn’t even know if he had blinked in the last five minutes, idly rubbing at his inner arm.
Moblit was the only other person in the room. The rest of the team were at the courthouse with Director Shadis, watching everything unfold after days of drab justice proceedings in stuffy rooms and scratchy suits. Even Mike, recovering from having his insides played with, made sure to be present with Nanaba, despite being on medical leave, much to the Director’s ire.
At least Shadis wasn’t pointing his attitude at Levi. In fact, the old reaper had been sympathetic toward his limbo status, going so far as to step in between SRC and WMC to claim custody until the official verdict was made on the C.B. Case. That meant Levi was forced to stay in one of those fancy mini rooms that the “stowaways” from the freighter were in, but it was a hell of an improvement from the basement cells.
The days of trial had been... rather malaise, if he could describe it. The witnesses had their testimonies, evidence laid out and stacked, and victims were metaphorically dug up one final time to construct their gruesome deaths. It was high profile enough that with the national festering of fear, news agencies were lined up like the paparazzi on courthouse steps. Levi could say he was relieved it wasn't publicly televised, if only for everyone effected not to feel like they were dragged through a circus. As for Tybur's reputation, he'd help stomp it into the mud any chance he had. It was that potent bias which was the reason he was banned to watching at GSIS' conference room.
The story told by him was that Tybur had died in a plane crash when trying to escape Erwin’s attempt at arrest. More controversy arose from that explanation, stating that it was public knowledge Erwin Smith was suspected of murder, therefore breaking out of prison and pursing Lord Tybur was grounds for the coven leader to flee. He likely feared for his life—because who wouldn’t in his situation. A rogue reaper conning his way free of prison to come after you would surely garner the same flighty response. It was only by the prosecutor calling Levi up for a witness that made Tybur’s supposed victimized and harmless image crumble.
Levi was stunned to be called to court, especially under his unusual circumstances. Even more unexpected was that his statement was taken seriously, despite being an unregistered loup-garou. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was out of pity for his still healing injuries (undeniable proof of Tybur’s abuse) or because of his active role at serving GSIS for his probation. The latter certainly didn't hurt his good Samaritan image seeing as he was the first in decades to volunteer for service. Whatever the reason was, he wasn’t laughed off the boxy podium nor dismissed airily, and that made him feel just a little better about the situation.
Anka’s recollection about her story, along with her sister’s and aunt’s, did help corroborate the bigger picture that led to pre-Cascade Butcher victims, creating a sort of character witness to Tybur’s manipulative ways. However, Mike’s testimony about Lara’s actions against a known GSIS Agent and Colt’s statement were the final nail in the proverbial coffin.
It wasn’t clear if the reality of the situation had settled in or if the kid had known what Tybur was up to all along. Either way, Colt had enough sense to confess to his coercion of the students and admit to what Tybur ordered him to do. Levi wanted to believe that after Colt learned what happened to his mentor, he confessed with good intentions of doing what was right rather than saving his own skin. But Levi’s faith in anyone who was a member of the coven was in the dirt, so he took the tearful testimony with a grain of thoroughly grounded salt.
Across the table, Moblit straightened in his seat, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume. Levi pulled himself out of his thoughts and tried to listen to the case’s conclusions, but he only got snippets. To better anchor him in the present and not let his mind wander, he traded his scarring bicep for the photo in his pocket, teasing a thumb nail along the edge as he watched the Jury list off their verdicts.
Colt would be serving time. Guilty had a way of pinning itself onto someone no matter how young or impressionable they were as a fledgling. Leniency would be granted in the form of less time being served, most likely, but Colt was old enough as a human to know better that inciting murder was bad before the change. There was no justification to hide behind the fledgling excuse.
A good conclusion, Levi agreed.
Anka’s situation was trickier, but Levi knew that her daughter, Cynthia, was already accepted into Halbrook Coven’s protection. Both the sister and Anka were found guilty of obstructing justice, amongst other things such as involvement in Pixis’ murder, and rightfully so. The controversy, however, came from admitting that Anka was equally a victim to Tybur's manifested misfortune.
In his opinion, it was too close to home to Levi’s own circumstance. A casualty. A victim. But still a murderer. Of course, he didn’t voice his bleak opinion, and it probably meant he was a coward for purposefully zoning out whatever was going to happen to Anka.
As for the late Lord Willy Tybur, he was found guilty and, given that he was already dead, there was nothing else to be done. Reparations for his assets would be returned to the victims' families as poor condolences for lost loved ones, and they could rest their heads easy with closure. Just as important, Erwin’s name was cleared after confirmations of Tybur’s relationship with Romero, followed by the arrest of the lower coven member who assisted Zeke in framing said murder.
Another Fitz pack member had spoken up about Zeke helping the coven leader, revealing that the wolvens didn't all agree on the Alpha’s decision to get involved. Coincidentally, the squeaky wheel of the pack was also in line to challenge for the vacant Alpha role, and happened to be the key statement to clearing Erwin and Levi of the murder charges on the Lt. Governor. A benefit for everyone involved even if led by selfish intentions.
In all matters of the meaning, the case was closed. Justice was being served and—really—Levi should have been placated by that. Finally able to take a damn breath without the oppressing weight of revenge and fear grinding him down while scraping through another day of survival. But his nearly half-century-long accomplishment was inevitably spoiled by losing Erwin.
There was no closure.
Once again, he was robbed.
Fiddling with the photo taken of the scene at Tybur’s estate, his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he gnawed on it. Lara’s body was twisted over the camouflaged seal on the floor. A yellow tent marked 2 was placed where he told Connie that Erwin had been standing, three feet from the center of the circle. The photo was creased from being folded and taken in and out of his pocket so frequently. Being the last connection he had with Erwin, Levi couldn’t bring himself to leave it anywhere, not even in his room or small go-bag. Nanaba had to print off another to keep in the dossier after he refused to give it back.
Well, refused was the wrong word. She recognized how important the photo was to him, as if some remnant film of Erwin’s shadow would show up like an apparition if Levi simply stared hard enough.
“This is great news,” Moblit attempted to converse, his soft breach into the stale conference room feeling like the earth had cracked open. “This means you won’t have to worry about charges anymore, Levi. Or WMC. Shadis promised that if this happened, then Hange would be allowed to take over custody. Not to mention, your position with the team will be restored, which Eren and Jean will be excited to hear. Those two have started to look up to you like a mentor, I've noticed, which is sweet. Usually, they turn their noses up at authority figures that...”
It was nice of Moblit to try easing Levi’s worries, as if the shifter’s life was a concern to himself. Frankly, Levi hadn’t given it much thought, feeling adrift and achingly alone for the past week. The second that Erwin had vanished, there was an impression like a part of him was ripped in two. That he was led astray off the path and didn't know how to get back. Unmoored. Scared. Since then, Levi was imbued with a deep sense of cold that he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. Like standing on the frigid bank of a frozen lake for hours where the ice clung to one’s very bones to the point that sitting in front of a fireplace couldn't thaw.
That night at the estate, when Levi finally pulled himself together after Erwin evaporated, he had stumbled into Lara’s lab, ignored the children that spat insults as the nanny corralled them in the corner, and unbuckled Mike from the table. The little girl tried to stab him before the guardian tugged her away, likely fearing the wolvens would kill them, injured or not, if they got too close. Levi never harmed children before and he wasn’t looking to start now, despite the little shitheads not sharing in his reservations. Instead, he demanded a phone and hauled Mike’s giant ass back to the main house while calling Nanaba for help.
The team was instrumental in hiding all evidence of the miners’ corpses and other bodies that could lend credit to heresy of necromancy. It was sloppy work and what Hange called “a team-building exercise” as they hauled bodies deep into the woods before any officials could arrive. Security cameras were wiped clean and all that was left was just the witnesses of Tybur’s staff and guests who may report the undead during questioning. It was 50/50 whether they would or not. Especially, given their illicit proclivities that could spell trouble for themselves if they said too much.
The bleak voice of Levi’s anguish had asked what the point was of worrying if someone spilled the truth. Necromancy or not, he wasn’t here. Erwin was gone. They couldn’t charge a reaper who was gone.
He was gone.
“Uh... Levi?”
“Yeah,” came his lukewarm response to Moblit. “I’m listening.”
He wasn’t.
Left hand holding the photo, the other returned to the faint inky seal on his arm, a messy grey patch and puckered skin that blurred the once carefully constructed rune.
He recalled Tybur gloating about the bond killing the subject if the dominant host died. Part of him wanted to loath the hope that came from the vampire’s threat, but he couldn’t bring himself to scrounge even that amount of passion. If it was true, then Erwin wasn’t dead. He was gone. But not dead because Levi was still here.
If Tybur lied, then what? What was Levi going to do?
Hange had researched the hypothesis after he explained Tybur’s explanation, but there were too few cases of reapers with bonds and even fewer who had died since the law was put in place. She tried to keep his hope alive by promising there had to be some documentation somewhere of what happens with soul bonds, but days of scraping the internet's barrel produced the same results. A whole rounding amount of nil. Zero. Nada. So much for statistics--thank you for trying, let me show you the door.
What it came down to was that there was no validity to the statement. Just Tybur’s cocky claim and Levi hated himself for clinging to it so desperately. I'm still alive, so Erwin is too. The only evidence he had aside from an envious captor was that there was no body in the circle and that the sigil at the heart of it was unfamiliar to Levi. So, until he could decipher the foreign markings, he swore to himself there was still a chance--a slim possibility Erwin was simply transported somewhere.
The conference room suddenly opened, and Hange let herself in, gaze sweeping over Moblit, the television, and finally landing on the hellhound.
“Hey, boys,” she plopped down into the chair directly beside Levi. A beat passed where she measured the lethargic energy in the room, no doubt tailoring her response to something more subdued than her usual outbursts. “I’m assuming, seeing as the courtroom is on, that I was robbed of my opportunity to bring you the good news?”
“By a few minutes,” Moblit concurred good naturedly. “But when has that ever stopped you?”
“Hm, good point.”
An elbow jabbed Levi’s shoulder, though it was soft and quick to retreat as if regretting the motion. Since his return to GSIS, his sensibilities toward vampires had dulled significantly, but Levi refused to trust it. Letting down his guard only to find his instincts were on a hair trigger the entire time would spell disaster that he was intent on avoiding.
A part of him suspected it would only take one thing to activate his self-preservation (or as Hange labeled it, PTSD). Erwin wasn’t here to stop him if his impulse was to attack a hemovore, and he didn’t trust the team well enough to know the signs that was about to lose it. Not to mention, the irony of Tybur’s non-consensual drugging and envious tantrums having some form of healing towards Levi’s trauma was a new level of fucked up. It was equivalent to being stabbed in the kidney but being told afterwards his remaining was healthy enough for both.
It was laughable and absurd to say Tybur helped him be a better functioning member of society, but it left him little room to complain about it when the results proved the point.
He still complained, though. Internally.
“Um... Anyway. I got you something, munchkin! Here.”
She slid a flimsy hot pink box to him. He must have been really out of it if he failed to notice Hange carrying anything that loud of color with her.
“What is it?” he queried, tugging it closer on the table to see a card on sitting top.
The cover had a chic flower boutique on it with pastel hues and white background. When he opened it, the printed Anniversary message was scratched out with messy penmanship over the top.
Happy Anni Acquittal-versary! May your anniversary be filled with joy and memories record stay cleaner than your neat-freak tendencies!
-Love Four-eyes & Moblit
Despite his dour mood, Levi scoffed and set it aside, opening the neon box next. Inside was a single cupcake that could be mistaken for a miniature cake by its heft alone, piled with dense crème frosting. He could guess by the pink tint to it meant it was strawberry flavored.
“You’re ridiculous, Hange,” he concluded, though not without a slight tilt to his lips. “Thanks.”
“You deserve the best! But don’t think this is a one off. It’s officially an office holiday for us! Every year, we’re going to celebrate.”
Moblit chuckled, brows raised to confirm, “She won’t let you forget it either. I’ve learned it’s best to accept these things.”
Levi tried to keep the frail attempt at a smile, but it was too much effort, even for him to manage. Letting it slide down, he tried to cover his dreary mood with repeated gratitude, because his companions were trying. It wasn’t their fault for his cursed luck.
Those around you tend to meet their end. And there is a lot of that, isn’t there, Levi?
“Thanks, Four-eyes. I’ll be sure to eat it later.”
The hemovore sobered, gleeful façade deteriorating as quickly as Levi’s efforts. The room fell quiet as the television mumbled in the background, going over the details of the case as people filed out of the courthouse.
“We can uh... Shadis already called me and said you’re free to come home with me now. No more 5-star GSIS Witness Lodging for you...” Pause. “If you’re ready, we can go to the cabin and get whatever you wanted to take with you to my place.”
Levi felt his molars grind together but he wrangled his tone into something civil. He knew he wasn’t going to be allowed enough freedom to live on his own in the cabin. His year was not up yet, and Hange would have to substitute as his sponsor until he was a legal citizen. That didn’t make it easier to swallow by acknowledging it.
“What’s going to happen with Erwin’s place?”
“Er...” from the corner of his eye, he saw Hange shoot Moblit a look while he scratched at the corner of the box. “Nothing like liquidating assets or anything. I know it’s paid off and all in his name. If you’re wanting to return to it after the probation is over, we’ll just need to cover the property tax and upkeep... No one has... No one has brought up signing his death certificate yet. Shadis is still going to put a team into finding out what happened.”
“I’ll pay whatever’s needed,” he settled, not wanting to think about a missing-persons team being assigned to the case. The cabin was a simple matter to focus on, particularly as last thing he wanted was the State to sweep in and try to take it.
“Right. Of course. And it’s not like I’m going to charge you anything for having to stay at my wonderful coastal abode. I’m far from a terrible host. Or roommate? Pretty sure this makes us roommates,” she tried to tease.
It helped. A little. With some effort, he let a curl play at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll figure out a term later. I’m sure you’ll have a sufficient argument by the time we get in the car.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there. I was just thinking how fun it would be to get bunk beds. If I ever stayed in a bunk, it was too long ago for me to remember.”
“Probably was made of straw and timber too,” Moblit huffed to himself which went ignored as Hange continued on her rant.
“I hear people fight over the top bunk, but I think the bottom is where it’s at. You can put up blankets and make it into a little cave and have privacy. I’m sure you’d prefer the bottom bunk, huh? I could get one set up in the spare room...”
Levi’s thoughts drifted once again, falling to the photo in hand.
He’d seen conspiracies of spirits and poltergeists being captured in the flash of cameras. Some images were even floating on the internet to review and let others decide for themselves if they believed it or not. Truthfully, even knowing souls could be stuck in the living realm, he had a hard time accepting the supposed evidence of ‘ghost hunters’ outside of electrostatic devices. Reapers, on the other hand, were walking detectors on their own. Why there was even mortals trying to find ghosts was ridiculous to him, right up there with doctored photos of Big Foot and UFOs. Or maybe he was just being pessimistic in his grief.
There was the saying of someone being blinded by rose colored glasses, but was there an opposite view of the world? Were his glasses a sickly pale or yellow image, as if infected by jaundice? He certainly felt ill, like his heart was sick but couldn’t purge the ache or phlegm through the aorta. Forced to simmer in it and break it down over time until the beats regulated to a normal rhythm and the hurt faded away.
Why was he keeping the photo? Levi was being stupid. Erwin wasn’t going to appear in the corner. All he was doing was torturing himself looking at the crime scene.
“I met an amputee once.” The words were out before he realized his mouth was moving.
Hange stopped mid-sentence but waited patiently for him to continue his trail of thought. Levi didn’t look up to meet their gaze. Instead, he set the picture down on the table beside the box and rubbed his hands down his face.
“The guy was a dock worker. Salt of the earth, grit in your teeth, real hard ass. He was a regular at this pub I happened to stop at and joined me at the bar. We didn’t speak for a long time, just minded our business, sipping our drinks, until someone bumped into his stool and made him spill his pint all over him. He decked the drunk with his one good hand and went to the pisser to get cleaned up.”
Levi paused, feeling a hitch in his breath that tried to mimic a laugh.
“He had a mean left hook and knocked the drunk into two other chairs with how solid the hit was. When he came back after cleaning up, he stubbed his pinky on the back of a chair and fucking yowled and cursed up a storm.” Levi stared blankly at the table, feeling like he was kilometers, decades, away in some briny, run-down hovel near the docks. Reminiscing of sticky bar tops and shady patrons who knew just what it meant to be discrete. Just the place for a lone hellhound to seek refuge. “I always thought it was weird how a little infraction on the guy’s pinky was so exaggerated when he was missing a whole damn arm. Before he got up to leave, I mentioned it to him, and he told me that he was always right-handed until he lost it.
It was a street brawl that ended with a deep cut below his elbow. Of course, where we were and the destitute living wage, it was inevitable that it got infected and had to be amputated. He had to learn to work the docks with his left, just as he had to learn to fight anyone looking to get lucky after a long day’s work with full pockets. The pain from his arm became familiar and he learned to live with that agony. The pinky, however, was a new pain. He was unaccustomed to it, so that’s why it seemed so much worse in the moment.”
Levi closed his eyes, raking a hand through his hair as he willed himself to ignore the sting behind his eyes and his voice not to crack. Moblit and Hange’s attention were pressing in on him from both angles and he repeated to himself that he wouldn’t let any tears escape.
“I don’t—,” fucking voice. “I don’t want to get to the point I’m familiar with this loss.”
“Levi—” Hange reached out to touch him before pausing. After the slight delay, she committed and laid her palm on his shoulder. “I promised you I’d help find answers on what happened to Erwin. I promised and I always keep my promises.”
Moblit was quick to nod. “And seals aren’t my forte, but I’m here to help wherever I can too. Just like the rest of the team. Erwin is part of our family no matter what.”
The fucking seals. What a sour reminder.
Levi had stared at the evocation circle that was rimmed with foreign runes for hours. He had hoped that after the forensics team went over the grey chalk to make it clearer to read, some recognition would come to him. That was not the case. There were only a handful he knew, and that was primarily from them matching the designs carved into the C.B. victims. A containment spell of sorts.
Containment for what, though? A soul? Could Erwin’s soul be trapped in the basement of the estate?
No, why would his body disappear while Lara’s did not?
“He’s alive. I know he’s alive.” Even if part of my soul feels missing.
Hange’s voice was laden with sympathy while her hand traveled to his back to rub soothing circles. “I agree with you. Erwin’s too damn proud to be taken out by that. He’s probably stuck on some island, kicking himself for not seeing a trap before it was activated. He’ll be even more moody than you, munchkin. And maybe sporting a nice tan.”
Levi nodded, bolstered by the silly reassurance that he wasn’t the only one willing to search for the reaper. The last week had been so hectic with the case and Mike’s recovery, as well as his own. Not to mention trying to steer away from any mentions of necromancy and keeping Levi out of SRC’s custody. It felt he was the only one concerned with Erwin, even if he knew that wasn’t true.
Now that the case was over, he could zero his efforts into researching the seals.
“He’s my priority,” he felt the need to reiterate, finally lifting his chin to look between Hange and Moblit. “Whatever new cases come up, I’m going to put as much of my efforts into finding out what happened to him.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Hange confirmed.
Moblit agreed again. “And if Shadis or if anyone else thinks you’re not meeting the WMC expectations, we’ll cover for you.”
“That’s right,” Hange grinned. “We’re a team who just secured our ongoing perfect record on case closures. There’s no hope for Lara to keep Erwin away from us with this momentum! We're unstoppable.”
Rejuvenated with a new sense of direction, a new goal, Levi picked up the photo again and gave it one last long look. He may have been cleared from the accusations of the Governor’s murder however, Levi knew his future would continue to flirt with the edges of the law. At least, this time, he knew he had the support of his friends in his corner.
It was an invitation to conspire, if he’d ever heard one.
Notes:
Whoo! Huge shoutout to everyone who completed this monster of a fic (no pun intended) and for all the support! You don’t know how much that means to me! I got the first chapter of the next bit posted now, but I'll be inconsistent with my updates for the next couple of weeks while try to work ahead and work on my other story. So excited to share the next bit with new characters, new setting, new stakes!
Until next time, take care and stay safe!!! 🖤🩶 Thank you again for reading!!
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