Ward



Ward stared, transfixed, fascinated at the ravishing creature emerging from the cell door. She was the epitome of everything he'd worked for. All his efforts and hard work, countless years of chasing vampires had finally come together in this euphoric moment.

He observed the creature before him, marveling at the creation and science coming together all in one. He never thought this day would come and realization tinged with the sheer adrenaline racing through his veins lifted him to a cloud nine.

Once the board found out about his work, the phenomenon of what he uncovered and would stem from, he was going to be infamous!

Her eyes betrayed a feral gleam, one that bespoke of the undeniable thirst within. Several feet separated them but he knew if she so much as deemed it, she could easily seize up the air with her newly equipped abilities.

She had fed, that was obvious from the slight coloring in her face, the sharpened glint to her unworldly eyes, and the manner in which she tilted her head, her senses obviously awhirl.

He drew her attention, standing firm, undaunted, "Lilith?"

Her shoulders stiffened at his voice and her eyes leveled chillingly and for a moment he wondered at the danger she presented. She was newly turned which meant her senses were heightened to the utmost extreme and her predatory instincts at the forefront.

Her eyes hard like crystalline glass, she took a step toward him, watching him as a predator would its prey.

A slight gurgling drew her gaze and for a moment he'd forgotten Hughes as he lay sprawled on the floor, bathed in perspiration, eyes dulling.

He raised a hand to her, motioning her, "Come my dear."

She tore her eyes from the old man and narrowed them intensely upon Ward as he beckoned her and arched a brow, "Dear?" she hissed, "That endearment sounds incredibly foreign coming from you."

Her words were laced of sheer contempt and she eyed him distastefully. There were no traces of his sweet and easily beguiled Lily. She was a hardened and furious fang-baring vampire. Every emotion imaginable most likely intensified to the brim. Somehow he had to convince her that everything he'd done was all for her benefit. He had to get her out of here before the others came for her. He had to take her far, perhaps back to Romania where there he could proceed with his work, her being the center of it.

"Lilith, you have to understand, I did this for you." He feigned, "If I hadn't, you would've died."

A fire drew from somewhere within, its flare reflected in the iris of her eyes.

His hand still between them, he ushered her forward, "Please, come with me and I'll help you."

She inclined her head only slightly, giving no indication to the storm within, "Help me?" she smirked, "You seek only to further your work but your work ends here."

She moved so abruptly that he nearly leapt from his skin. Her hands circled his neck in a threatening vise and he was lifted from the floor as though he weighed no more than a feather, dangling in her grip like a rag doll.

She raised him high, her mouth pulling wide to expose her fangs as she released a low and deadly hiss, her eyes blazing.

"Lily!" someone called hoarsely.

Ward peered above her head to the man at her back. He fell slack against the cell door, a stream of blood seeping a crimson path from his neck to stain his cashmere sweater.

"Don't-" Jackson exclaimed weakly, "-you're not a killer."

The fingers around his throat tightened and his mouth widened for a chance at air. He peered fearfully into the face of his daughter and wondered fleetingly if he'd made a mistake? She could easily snap his neck like a twig if she wished it.

But suddenly the doors burst wide and several of his armed men barreled inside, releasing rounds.



Varian

He felt his strength waning, draining rapidly, his efforts weakening with every pull and tug of the chain coiled about his neck. The bullets embedded in his chest burned like hell, the wood nearly impossible to push from his body.

He released a throaty growl, one that burned clear through his throat as he rolled in an attempt to unravel the chain.

Through the sudden haze of pain he called to Lily. Their connection was undeniable, a thickened strand that bound them as one. He felt her heart beating as if it were his own. He felt her hunger like a raging fire, burning a path in his abdomen.

Lily.

He knew she had fed. He felt her strength growing, her abilities collecting and her senses pulling solidly together.

Varian. Her response was all he needed. The confirmation that she was okay empowered him and with all the strength he could muster, wrapped his hand around the length of chain, clenching his fangs against the excruciating searing that came with it.

He wrenched violently and Ravensport fell forward losing his grip momentarily of the chain but the hunter was quick, regaining his balance and tightening a firm iron-grasp about the blasted manacle.

He felt the others struggling and with that continued his attempts but with his strength diminishing and having not fed, he was weakening all the more faster.

Ravensport grinned as he straightened on his feet, feeling as though he won, pulled at the chain. Varian hissed sharply, his skin blackening, the chain searing, and the smell of charred flesh heavy to his senses.

Suddenly, a growling of another beast entirely alerted Varian to the sudden jowls fastening about the hunter's ankle as a massive, black wolf made sport of the bone encased within sharpened canines.

Ravensport exclaimed his pain and staggered from the violent shaking as Kirov whipped his head about, his canines grating, sinking deeper and drawing pools of blood.

Varian smirked inwardly, making a mental note to thank the damned mutt for his aid despite his reluctance too. He took the opportune moment and wrenched free of the chain, seizing it up all together, unraveling from it and tossing it aimlessly aside.

He moved forward as Ravensport made futile efforts in pounding the furry beast all the while, withdrawing a knife from his side. Varian intercepted, seizing the hunter's wrist and snapping it in two.

Ravensport hissed his cry and toppled to the floor, Kirov releasing him all at once and moving to aid the others.

Varian loomed over the hunter, his skin already healing as his eyes blazed a fiery red.

Cradling his broken wrist, Ravensport raised his gaze to Varian and growled painfully, "You can kill me, vampire, but be rest assured, there will be others to follow pursuit and see you dead."

Varian grinned, a grin that didn't mirror the ravenous gleam in his eyes as he responded stiffly, "I'm counting on it."

He drew back his hand, his talons extending to deliver a fatal blow but as his muscles tensed to end the hunter with one fierce swipe to the throat, an unforeseen force struck him hard, sending him sprawling.

He slid across the marble and when he came to a stop, rolled over to peer heatedly at the vampire crouching over Ravensport.

His mouth pulled back, exposing lengthened fangs, "Marguerite."

The ethereal beauty leveled a vehement, hot gaze and said through gritted fangs, "You will not kill him." And than turning, she peered at Ravensport, hesitating only a moment as if recalling their mortal life and the love once between them.

Ravensport said nothing at first but stared with a hardening resolve. For a fraction, it appeared as if he were coming to terms with death at hand.

"Better you than any other." He affirmed beneath his breath, for her alone to hear.

She forgot her barriers and a fleeting softness crossed her face, her eyes gentling as they stared at one another, but as quickly as it appeared, it vanished and she delivered the blow that Varian had intended.

Ravensport dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap, blood oozing from his throat and his last breath an exhaled gasp.

Varian gathered to his height and met Marguerite's stare. There was a sadness there but one quickly obscured by a hardness that was all Marguerite.

It was than his senses pulled in that moment, detecting something alarmingly familiar. His body stiffened every muscle jolting at the stream of incredible power and ascendancy that laced the air. The familiarity of it left a bitter lasting taste on his tongue, one that brought about a prickling of unease at the nape of his neck, alerting him to something, or better yet, someone.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Marguerite said in a hushed, knowing tone, "The elders have come."

**********