March 30, 2007
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Blood Bonds:Chapter Two
Oh look children! I finally updated it! It’s because my beta decided to have me name off all the stories I was working on and read the first chapter and said ‘where’s the rest?’ So, my muse cranked out this chapter. Yes, it’s cracktastic and Azazel is like…odd and Mason got way out of character, but I don’t care. I’ll let him deal with it. Muwhaha. Yes, I’m a evil girl to beta for, I won’t lie.
Hope you enjoy the cracktackness!
Blood Bonds: Breaking a BondIt was dark again, the pitch black curtain that seemed to hang over his vision. Only a few splashes of sun that could get through the thick blinds and heavy drapes clued him in that yet another day had passed, that he wasted one more day of his life behind these shutters and lying here in this room. Was this what his life had become? Nothing more then just Mason’s chew toy, although he figured that it could be worse. He slept so long this time…how many days had passed him by? He hoped that it wasn’t a week again. If it was, that would mean that he would have spent six months of the year and a half unconscious, and that thought didn’t go over very well in his mind at all.
Mason was snuggled behind him, he could feel the cold dead weight on his backside. Why the hell did that vampire insist of doing that? Had he no idea how sick he was of him? How much he wanted to just kill him and get on with his own life? However, this last drain on him left him weak, and therefore not able to do much of anything. Sighing, he pulled the blankets tighter to his thin frame, closing his eyes tightly and tried to think of anything except the beginnings of Mason’s waking state.
Before long, he felt a heavy arm drape over his waist, and the familiar feel of the back of his neck being nuzzled lovingly. He hated this. He hated this whole situation. He wanted out of this situation and be free again, whatever that was. He couldn’t remember any of his life up to his capture, nothing of his younger days nor of his family or what happened to him that made him homeless and out on the streets. Such easy prey to someone like Mason, to just be plucked off and no one would seem to care.
“Good morning,” Mason purred as he began to fully regain consciousness. “Sleep well? I hope you did, you were out for nearly three nights…I guess next time I shouldn’t take so much, hm?”
It took all Azazel had not to shudder in disgust, especially when Mason pulled him closer and rested his head on his. It was better for him to just lay still and not reply. He didn’t need to get smacked around like Mason had done before, even if it was because he tried to commit suicide multiple times. What was the point of living when all you had to look forward to was another day living as a stranger to the world, and trapped in one room, with the one being that you hated with all of your heart and soul? He wanted so much to break away, but he was so weak now. Maybe not eating wasn’t the best idea in the world for him to do…
“You look so pale,” Mason sighed. “You should really eat something. I don’t need to you dying on me, ever.”
The thought of being stuck here forever with him made Azazel want to slit his wrists right then and there. Hell, living with the one that invaded his dreams a few nights before had to be better then this torture. At least he was coming forward and trying to comfort him rather then to keep him under constant control. Plus, there was a bit of nostalgia when he looked at the face, but he quickly switched back to the present, finding himself suddenly sitting up and with Mason basically shoving oatmeal down his throat.
After most of the bowel was gone, Mason was satisfied that Azazel had enough, but still looked so pale, even to him. A human should have never looked as pale as Azazel was, and that thought scared him. He was not loosing another to death’s embrace, not so soon after it took Morgan. He wasn’t going to allow Azazel fall under too, he just wouldn’t be able to live with that kind of pain again, even if he never truly got over it in the first place.
Holding up a tall cup of orange juice with a straw poking from the top, Mason held it up to Azazel’s lips, pleading look on his face. One that Azazel had never before witnessed or even hoped even existed in this world.
“Please,” he said, not putting pressure on it. “I don’t want to loose you like I lost him…”
Taking the straw and drinking, he wanted to know who exactly Mason lost, but didn’t want to stop drinking to do it. His body craved the vitamins that the juice provided and he couldn’t deny it any longer. He would ask when he was done…and already he was sucking air. Apparently more thirsty then he thought he was.
Smiling, Mason hugged him, making Azazel stiffen. Okay. This was way too weird. Usually, Mason wanted little to nothing to do with him, but tonight seemed to be an odd one. Was this a dream? He could only hope that he awoke soon, so that his miserable life could get back on track.
“Death won’t get you,” Mason said, hugging him tighter. “I’ve been blind to you and your suffering too long, deep within my own. I won’t let death take you like he took him!”
“Who,” Azazel asked, looked at the head that was buried in his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“Morgan,” Mason muttered. “He was my mate, killed by Hunters when we were hunting. I escaped with a few minor injuries, and we both thought that his were just as harmless. I held him as he truly died, never to return. His ashes are in a vase, only I will ever know the location of my private alter…that’s why I went searching, and found you so lost and alone…like myself….”
Too weird. Way too flipping weird for his taste. He wanted to do nothing more then break free, go sit in a corner and stare at the one who made his life a living hell for so long, and was suddenly reminiscing about an old lover and taking him in. What the hell was going on? This had to be the anniversary. There was no way that anything else could hope to explain Mason’s erratic behavior.
“Never leave me like he did,” Mason continued. “Never die. Maybe Vlad is right, maybe you and him are meant to be together, but then who am I to be with? Or am I meant to live alone, forever in mourning?”
Okay. This was really making him feel uncomfortable. It only made him hope that this was just a dream, and he would wake up to a flogging for no apparent reason. At least that would make some sort of sense. This only made Mason seem just that more emotionally unstable, something he was finding out rather quickly he didn’t like.
Running his fingers along the two marks on Azazel’s neck, Mason smirked. “I don’t care what anyone says. As long as you’re here, you’re mine. They can try to come get you, win you over, but you’re mine! Unless they get you to go with them, you’re mine…”
Azazel didn’t like this. He wanted to go back out onto the streets where things actually made a little more sense then this. Amnesia was commonplace and was often looked at as treatable. If he ever got out of this situation, the first thing he was going to do was get a job and start seeing a therapist. Scratch that. MULTIPLE therapists.
“What do you think about that,” Mason asked, playing with Azazel’s hair. “Let those who want you try to get you? It would be better then living with a brute like me, forcing you to be under my control. Quickly, before I drown in my sorrow again, hide before my masks of hate and violence. Tell me, what do you think.”
“I like the idea,” Azazel replied, feeling Mason hug tighter. “It’ll let me at least choose where my life is going to take me.”
Releasing him, smiling, Mason truly looked like a perfect human, a demon in an angel’s body. “As long as you’re okay with it. You’ll still sleep here, be awake with me at night, and keep me company. I won’t let my evil side out, the jealous side. I can’t…I’ve hurt so many…”
Okay. He really needed to know what had happened in the three days he was out like a log. Apparently, he was missing something and something really important. Whatever it was, it was making Mason act all funny and it was scaring him more then comforting him. Well, if it allowed him to choose his own destiny, who was he to really complain?
“You’ll find another,” Azazel reassured him. “Maybe your old lover in a new body?”
“I can only hope,” Mason sighed. “Now, you stay here and regain your strength. I’m going off to visit a few of the coven leaders that have expressed interest in you. As a warning, your life is going to get rather interesting.”
Smiling, for the first time since he had been captured, evil gleam in his eye, Azazel looked Mason straight in the eye. “Tell them to bring it, because truthfully, I’ve had enough of you and your games.”
~*scene change*~
Vlad sat in his recliner, smiling. Azazel was going to be his again, because like hell that he’d ever let the others win his other half. Ever.
