Exitus - 8. Part I, chapter 8

- VIII -

He slipped into seductive sleep, enjoying Gabriel’s scent and breath, his head on Rayhe’s shoulder, his arm wrapped tightly around his mate’s waist. Right before he fell asleep, Desmond thought that he should treat this like an unexpected vacation – black streams or not, but he had to admit (grudgingly so) that he actually enjoyed this arrangement somewhat. He sighed, pushed every single thought away, and surrendered to sleep that drowned him in a silent, dark wave almost immediately.

He woke up some time later and tried to figure out the reason for that. Then he looked around and cursed under his breath. He was on yet another dream-trip.

“Dammit,” he grumbled and absent-mindedly rolled up the long sleeves of the inevitable white shirt he was wearing.

He sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, looking around more intently now. “Great,” he thought with irritation, finally recognizing Salamander’s mansion. “Raven’s dream again... Bloody hell...!”

He sighed again, and was about to call forth a ripple, when he heard footsteps and voices from behind the closed door. Desmond frowned – neither voice (he could hear two) belonged to Raven. One of the voices definitely belonged to the blond (Desmond would never mistake that dark purring for anything else), and the other one came from a female. Desmond muttered a very quiet “Huh,” glanced around, and quickly hid between two large bookcases, successfully blending into the shadows, his curiosity taking the best of him.

The door opened a couple of minutes later, and Desmond stopped blinking, staring at the blond and his companion when they walked into the room. “Holy hell...” he thought numbly without taking his eyes off the woman. “It’s not Raven’s dream after all... It’s Salamander’s...!”

The woman was rather tall – at least 5’7 – and her hair was dark-auburn, falling onto her shoulders in thick, curly, artistic mess. Her chin was somewhat long, but it didn’t ruin her appearance – it created some specific charm instead. Her features were very precise and sharp, making her entire face look focused and bright. Desmond stared at her with disbelief – she was the last person he expected to see, even though it made sense, since it was Julian’s dream. “Vivienne,” he thought numbly, looking at her perfectly drawn profile. “Holy hell...”

“God, I am tired of this whole ordeal,” she was saying, her eyes exhausted. “I will be ecstatic when it is finally over...”

“Three more days,” Salamander purred in his usual manner. “And then there will be your inauguration, madam President...” He let out a slow smile, and Vivienne’s eyes darted towards him.

“You are just so sure that I will get that chair...” she said in a low voice, and the blond smiled again.

“You are the most competent candidate out of all ten,” he said with a small nod. “Of course, I am sure. What do you want for your inauguration present?” He leaned closer and ran his mouth on the side of her throat.

The redhead shot him a quick, sly look and sighed with fake thoughtfulness.

“Hmm...” she said, slightly narrowing her eyes. Then there was a smile transforming her mouth. She stepped closer to Salamander and placed both of her hands onto his shoulders. “I want...” she started saying in a low, husky voice without looking away from his eyes. “I want you to follow my every single order,” she finished in the same husky manner, and the blond blinked at that. Vivienne smiled wider, her gaze fixed on the man’s face.

Now Salamander looked thoughtful.

“Really...” he said slowly, and she nodded without saying anything else. Julian cocked his head slightly to the right, his expression even more thoughtful. “You never told me that control was something you like...”

She let out light laughter and planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“That’s because you are a worse control freak than me,” she nodded. “Worse by far,” she added in a second, and Julian blinked again. “You crave it much more than I do,” she sighed and pulled away, her expression still somewhat sly. “However, once in a while...” Here she shrugged without finishing the phrase, and the blond let out a slow smile.

“Every single order,” he said in his usual manner and gave her another kiss, this one deeper than the previous. “It doesn’t have to wait until the thirty-first, you know...” he looked at her seriously. “If you want, we could start three days earlier...”

Desmond slightly frowned. “Thirty-first?” he thought without taking his eyes off the redhead. “August thirty-first, right...? Damn...” He closed his eyes, remembering perfectly well that this particular mark had to be disposed of no later than August 29. “That means...” He opened his eyes again. “Damn... Three days... That means it’s August twenty-eighth... I am going to kill her tomorrow...! Holy hell...”

“Oh...?” Vivienne was saying meanwhile, one of her eyebrows shooting upwards. “Three days of control...? Holy hell...” she laughed softly. “I just might get used to that, you know...”

Julian gave her another one of his smiles.

“We’ll trade shifts,” he promised in a low voice and planted yet another kiss on her face.

Desmond let out an inaudible sigh and glanced at the far wall that suddenly started to shimmer ever so slightly. He carefully folded his arms in his chest without producing a single sound, waiting semi-patiently for that shimmer to grow bigger and pull him out of this particular dream – the shimmering wave was impossible to ignore, he knew that; it would come for him even if he decided not to make a single move.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Vivienne murmured a minute later without pulling too far away from blond's mouth.

“A walk,” Julian repeated with somewhat confused doubt, and Vivienne smiled.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I want to be one with nature tonight,” she finished in a low voice without taking her eyes off Salamander’s face.

Julian’s confused doubt immediately traded places with dark, smiling understanding.

“A walk it is,” he purred, and they left the room without saying anything else.

Desmond sighed and looked at the wall again; it was shimmering with more impatience than it did several minutes ago. He shrugged to himself, figuring that now he might as well just head home without worrying about being spotted. He moved towards the shimmering wall and was about to step through, when suddenly, the door swung open, and there was Vivienne, almost running inside. Desmond relaxed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to see him. He glanced behind his shoulder and realized that the redhead left her silk scarf on the table.

He was right – Vivienne headed straight towards that table. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around. Desmond was half-way through the transparent wall, and he knew that as of now, he could not go back. He turned his head, frowning slightly, wondering what caused Vivienne’s incredulous glare. Then his eyes became wide – it seemed like the redhead was staring right at him, her expression very confused. She opened her mouth, about to say something, but that was when the wall sucked Desmond all the way in, and the last thought in his head before he fell into familiar blackness, was, “Holy hell...!”

He woke up a little before ten and lay still for several minutes without opening his eyes. “She wasn’t looking at me,” he thought, replaying his dream in his head. “That would be impossible! It was Salamander’s dream, not hers... Holy hell, she is dead; she’s been dead for ten years! The dead do not dream...! Bloody hell...” He sighed, opened his eyes, and sat up in bed, glancing at Gabriel who was still asleep.

“Rayhe, wake up,” Desmond shook him by the shoulder rather unceremoniously. “Wake up...!”

“Mmm...” Gabriel said and made a weak attempt to shake Desmond’s hand off his shoulder and bury himself under the blanket. “Mmm...”

“Wake up,” Desmond repeated firmly and shook him again.

Gabriel sighed, mumbled something that resembled ‘Bloody hell,’ and peeled one of his eyes halfway open.

“What...?” he grumbled, his expression clearly saying several very unkind things at once.

“Wake up,” Desmond nodded and glanced at the clock. “It’s ten in the morning!”

“So?” Gabriel let out a huge yawn and unwillingly opened his other eye. “We don’t have to go anywhere... Dammit, Des...! Just ‘cause you are awake, doesn’t mean I should be...”

“Yes, it does,” Desmond interrupted him, and Rayhe growled something under his breath. “I had a dream,” Desmond continued, and now, Gabriel’s expression was somewhat interested even though it was still quite gloomy.

“Do tell,” he muttered and sat up, running his fingers through his hair.

“I was in Salamander’s dream,” Desmond said, and this time, Rayhe looked wide-awake.

“Seriously?” he asked incredulously, and Desmond nodded.

“Seriously,” he said. “He dreamt of Vivienne...”

“His first mate...?” Gabriel frowned slightly, and Desmond nodded again.

“Yeah, her...” He paused for several seconds, his expression thoughtful. “It was a day before I killed her,” he continued slowly, and Gabriel blinked at that. “August twenty-eighth,” Desmond nodded thoughtfully, and Gabriel straightened up.

“Did Julian see you there?” he asked, and Desmond shook his head. “Are you going to tell him?” Rayhe narrowed his eyes with genuine interest, and Desmond grimaced.

“No,” he answered in his usual semi-irritated manner. “Would you poke a sleeping bear up the ass with a sharp stick?”

Gabriel hemmed at that. Desmond sighed and got out of bed, ignoring Rayhe’s suddenly pursed lips.

“Not right now,” he muttered absent-mindedly. “The damn dream is still in my head... Plus,” he looked at his mate. “You need to throw that barrier on Raven, since Salamander is probably at work by now.”

“It’s Saturday,” Gabriel sighed in defeat and got out of bed as well. Desmond grimaced again.

“That’s right,” he said and headed towards the bathroom, absent-mindedly scratching his shoulder. “No, Rayhe,” he said somewhat loudly right before he shut the bathroom door. “Next time, you will be begging!”

With that, he closed the door, and Gabriel grinned, listening to the sound of running water in the bathroom.

****

Desmond was mechanically working on his biscuit, his gaze fixed on the plate in front of him, his expression thoughtful. He was listening to Julian’s thoughts quite intently for the last five minutes or so – it seemed that the blond forgot to pull up his usual mental barrier. To Desmond’s surprise, Julian wasn’t thinking about his dream or about Vivienne; he was trying to figure out the best way to deal with their current situation instead.

Suddenly, every single thought of his was cut short in mid-sentence, and Desmond winced involuntarily when a heavy slam of the imaginary door made his temples throb with sharp pain for a few seconds. He glanced up. Julian was staring at him with very dark eyes.

“Don’t,” the blond said with forced calmness. “I could feel you poking around in my head,” he nodded when Desmond frowned with mild puzzlement. “Don’t.”

Desmond sighed and gave him a stiff, unwilling nod, returning his attention to the remains of his biscuit, noting Gabriel’s quiet, quick sigh. Julian let out a short, somewhat irritated exhale and got up, pushing his chair backwards.

“There is a new art gallery opening downtown today,” he said, looking at silent and gloomy Raven. “I would like to check it out,” he finished with a slight nod.

Raven nodded without saying anything, finished his coffee, and stood up as well, his shoulders rigid, eyes dark. Julian threw a quick glance at Gabriel, who was watching both of them with thoughtful interest.

“If you decide to go somewhere,” the blond said calmly. “Leave the front door unlocked; I am not making any spare keys.”

Gabriel nodded without replying to that. Julian switched his attention to Raven and wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. They walked out of the house several minutes later, and Desmond sighed and pushed away his plate, his biscuit gone by then.

“Let’s go for a walk, Rayhe,” he said with a shadow of irritation in his voice, and Gabriel let out a sigh.

“All right,” he agreed mildly, noting Desmond’s tight jawline and slightly narrowed eyes.

...“How was he able to tell that you were eavesdropping on his thoughts?” Gabriel asked twenty minutes later when they were slowly walking through a small park that stretched not too far from Salamander’s mansion.

Desmond shrugged and puffed on his cigarette, his expression not as tight as before.

“I don’t know,” he said with a small sigh.

“What was he thinking about?” Gabriel seemed to be genuinely interested.

“This whole ordeal,” Desmond glanced at him. “He was trying to figure out the best way to solve this...”

“He wasn’t thinking about his dream?” Rayhe frowned slightly.

“Nope,” Desmond shook his head and flicked away his almost finished cigarette, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Interesting...” Gabriel muttered thoughtfully, and Desmond shrugged again.

“Maybe he dreams of her quite often,” he said, throwing a dark look at the heavy, menacing clouds in the sky – it seemed that it would start raining again soon. “So it’s nothing new for him...”

“Maybe,” Gabriel nodded slowly, the same thoughtful frown still twisting his eyebrows together.

Desmond let out another small sigh and was about to say something else, when suddenly, his lazy expression transformed into rigid alert so quickly that Gabriel blinked several times quite rapidly.

“What...” he started saying when Desmond twisted himself into some weird, tense loop, and threw his body sideways, his right arm shooting backwards.

“Oh, hell...!” Rayhe exclaimed a second later when he stared at the scene in front of him.

It seemed that Desmond’s furious reaction was a second too late – the ex-assassin stood rigidly still, his eyes blink-free, fingers of his right hand locked on someone’s slender throat. That someone was a young-looking, tall woman with smooth, dark-red hair that fell onto her shoulders in precise fashion. She was wearing a short black jacket, tight black pants, and tall black flat-heeled boots. Rayhe gritted his teeth when he saw a thin and a very long needle frozen maybe an inch away from Desmond’s ear. The tip of that needle pulsated with poisonous, bright-green light. Gabriel made a slight, careful move, and the woman shot him a very quick glance. He blinked when he saw her eyes – they were dark-purple, and the pupils were red. The woman didn’t say a single word, but the needle moved even closer to Desmond’s ear. Rayhe gritted his teeth harder than before and stayed put.

“Make a single move...” the woman said finally, her gaze fixed on Desmond’s face. “...and this needle will come out of your other ear.” Her voice was low and husky.

“Make a single move...” Desmond replied calmly without looking away from her strange eyes. “...and I will rip out your throat.”

“Then I suppose, both of us will die,” the woman said without a shadow of a smile.

“What a predicament,” Desmond agreed.

Gabriel was feverishly trying to figure out what to do, when to his greatest astonishment, both of them – Desmond and that strange woman – grinned at the same time, and slowly lowered their arms. Rayhe stared at them without blinking when they exchanged a quick handshake.

“Long time, no see,” Desmond said with another grin, and the woman smiled at that.

Gabriel finally blinked when the silver needle slightly trembled, and suddenly melted into a thin stream, absorbing itself into the redhead’s fingers. Desmond looked at Rayhe and let out a small sigh.

“Gabriel,” he said, walking closer to his confused-looking, silent mate. “This is Nex...” he glanced at the woman, whose posture seemed relaxed now. However, she reminded Gabriel of a coiled snake that was ready to spring upwards and make a lethal move any minute. “She is a Hunter,” Desmond finished, and Gabriel’s eyes went wide.

“Seriously?” he asked incredulously, and Desmond nodded.

“Seriously,” he said, and looked at the woman. “Nex, this is Gabriel...” He let out a small smile. “My mate,” he finished with unusual for him tenderness.

The woman glanced at Rayhe, her expression surprised and slightly confused.

“Mate,” she repeated and looked at Desmond again. “Interesting... You never seemed like the type.”

“Things change,” Desmond shrugged, and she nodded slightly. “What are you doing here?” Desmond narrowed his eyes. “Usually, your kind stays out of sight...”

“Usually,” she agreed with another small nod. “This time, however, the situation is different. I am not sure why, to be honest,” she shrugged. “But all of a sudden, there was this drastic change...” She let out a small smile. “Doesn’t matter,” she finished with another nod.

“Who hired you?” Desmond wouldn’t look away from her eyes.

“None of your business,” she said seriously, ignoring a shadow of irritation reflecting on Desmond’s face.

Gabriel stared at her thoughtfully. “She is a Hunter?” he thought, still not quite believing it. “Holy hell... Well, I guess it explains her eyes...”

Hunters were a peculiar and mysterious breed. They were not fully human – a part of them (a significant part) was the one of some strange, higher beings. It wasn’t clear what particular beings were responsible for the very creation of Hunters; some speculations said there was some demonic nature involved, while the others were convinced that Hunters shared their blood with divinity.

With their mysterious nature aside, Hunters were known as perfect machines – killing, trapping, and (obviously so) hunting. They were never burdened by the weight of emotions or feelings, which made them ideal weapons. However, people tried avoiding dealing with them as much as they possibly could. Making a deal with a Hunter was pretty much the same as making a deal with a demon (Gabriel was one of those who believed into demonic nature of Hunters’ blood) – the payment varied, but it was always too brutal, that much was very well known. Also, it would never be about money with this particular breed – Hunters couldn’t care less about materialistic goods and wealth.

“How do you even know her?” Gabriel thought, looking at Desmond now.

The ex-assassin glanced at him.

“We crossed paths quite a few unpleasant times in the past,” he said. “Finally, we decided to make a truce...” His expression became slightly annoyed at that, and Rayhe blinked.

A truce? He always knew just how good and dangerous Specter was, but to make a Hunter to agree to a truce with a human...? “Holy hell,” Gabriel thought, looking at his mate with slightly narrowed eyes. Desmond grinned at that.

“I couldn’t help myself,” the woman said suddenly, and Desmond’s attention switched to her. “Saw you and thought that now, I would finally get the upper hand... With you leaving your career behind and all...” she shrugged.

“I don’t let myself to become rusty,” Desmond said solemnly, and she nodded yet again. “Anyway,” he sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s going to rain soon...” He glanced at the gloomy sky. “Have fun with your assignment,” he looked at her again, and her mouth twitched in a small smile.

“I will try,” she replied with a nod.

Desmond gave her a quick smile, and looked at Gabriel.

“Let’s go back,” he said, and Rayhe silently nodded.

They started walking back to Salamander’s mansion when suddenly, Desmond stopped, glanced behind his shoulder, and frowned. Gabriel looked back as well, but he saw nothing.

“What?” he asked.

“Why are you following us?” Desmond ignored Rayhe’s question.

Gabriel’s eyes widened once again when he saw Nex materializing out of thin air, it seemed. She looked puzzled and slightly annoyed.

“I am not following you,” she said slowly. “I am heading towards my point of destination.”

“What point would that be?” Desmond asked, and she pressed her lips tightly. Desmond rolled his eyes. “Who is your target?” he asked shortly. “Naming the person would hardly qualify for spilling secrets,” he nodded, and Nex’s mouth slowly became less tight.

“I guess,” she muttered. “I need to talk to Julian Salamander,” she said, and both men blinked at the same time when they heard that.

“Bloody hell,” Rayhe said in a low voice. “The chain of events did change...!”

Desmond slowly nodded at that, and Nex threw Rayhe a frowning, puzzled look, which Gabriel ignored.

“We are heading to the same place,” Desmond said after a minute of silence, and Nex’s frown deepened. “We are heading to the same place,” Desmond repeated with a firm nod. “He is not there, however. He is at some art gallery; he’ll be back soon though. Just wait for him,” he shrugged almost indifferently.

Nex studied his expression for several seconds, as if making sure that Desmond wasn’t trying to fool her, and then she slowly nodded and started following both men without saying anything.