Kersen

[autcaesar_autnihil]

It had been some weeks since Cesare and Kersen had been so rudely interrupted by business... just when they'd almost certainly been about to get to the good bit, as they said. Cesare had promised to return sometime, and the long wait had not been intentional. He'd had certain things on his mind, certain plans to make, and very little time to troll piano bars for one of the most gorgeous creatures he'd ever seen. Which was, in fact, saying quite a lot.

But now, dressed simply and elegantly in black and silver-gray, Cesare returned at last. He had the car drop him outside and meant to go straight in, but was distracted by a flash of red in a nearby alley. "Come here, pretty boy," a low, melodic female voice said sweetly.

Smirking, one hand poised to go for the knife he kept inside his Burberry jacket, his mind searching for the reassuring feeling of the other in his boot, Cesare went. Possibly he was being mistaken for a John. Which would not, on some evenings, be so much a mistake. Possibly he was being mistaken for a rich, easy mark for a pickpocket.

Either way, he was certain he could handle it.

He turned the corner into the dark alley and opened his mouth to speak--

But was cut off by a sudden hand wrapping around his windpipe and slamming him into the brick wall behind. He'd gone for the knife in his coat on instinct, but it clattered to the ground with the surprising, far-too-fast impact, and Cesare's head swam. How is it possible? How could anyone move that fast? No one can move that fast, not even Micheletto...

"Ohhhh, you're so pretty and warm..." that throaty voice said in his ear. "I'm gonna eat you all up..."

Comments

[kersen]

Kersen had just left the piano when one of his customers came up to him. Think I saw a vamp outside in the alley trying to pull.

Great. Just great.

So he was expected trouble when he went outside, but he wasn't expecting to see Cesare Borgia there, being manhandled by a hissing female vampire.

"Off him," Kersen growled, and suddenly really wished he weren't wearing a pencil skirt and stilettos.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare sucked in a difficult breath, rubbing at his windpipe. It'd be back to normal in a moment--he knew the feeling well enough--but his head was still spinning from the sudden banging off the brick and the way everything was just moving so fast. While doubled over, he caught the silvery glint off his dropped knife across the alley--too far to make it without being noticed. He pulled out the one in his boot instead.

[kersen]

The vampire appeared to be startled by Kersen, and she looked up with a flash of anger. She let go of Cesare for now, but hissed, "Go get your own snack, you fucking faggot." Then she grabbed Cesare's wrist - the one now holding the knife - and slammed it and him back against the wall. She sank her fangs into his neck.

... and that was more than enough to take Kersen from possibly having handled this situation in a civilized manner to not giving a fuck.

Kersen yanked the vampire back by her arm, throwing her against the wall beside Cesare.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

The flashing slice of pain was nothing to Cesare--in truth, in other circumstances, he might've enjoyed it immensely. But this time, in spite of freezing for reasons unknown, his back to the wall, that slicing in his neck, Cesare didn't let go the knife.

Only when Kersen pulled the bloody-mouthed woman off him did Cesare register that it was Kersen at all. Head spinning with an absurd mixture of pleasure and pain that he'd sort out later, Cesare nodded his thanks to Kersen and then, dart-quick, sunk his knife into his attacker a bare centimetre from her kidney. A quick twist, and the internal bleeding would be enough to end anyone.

Anyone human. The thought took Cesare by surprise. Pride, probably, that he'd been caught unawares. He'd sort it all out when he was done bleeding.

[kersen]

This was all happening very quickly, and with the vampires moving, even quicker still. Kersen wasn't expecting at all for Cesare to attack her, and apparently neither was she. Of course, a knife in the gut to a vampire was painful and annoying but not debilitating. So she yanked it out and immediately slashed it towards Kersen.

So two things happened quickly after that. One, she got a good shot at Kersen, and the knife ripped through his dress (short, black, tight) and sliced a line across his chest. And two, Kersen pretended to double over from the force of it, but instead yanked off one of his stilettos, spun, and staked the vampire with the heel.

... and dust.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare had no idea how the mad woman had got his knife from him, but he did see it flash in Kersen's direction. For a moment, he thought it had hit home and--while the mad woman was distracted--coiled to spring on her.

But then Kersen was upright and--was that a high heel?

Before he could even register it, the mad woman was gone. As in turned to dust. And Cesare Borgia stood with one hand against the brick wall, panting, looking between the place where his preternaturally quick attacker had been and a slightly mussed and torn Kersen Sonnevald with a stiletto heel in his hand. Uncomprehending, perhaps willfully so, Cesare said, "What the bloody fucking hell just happened?"

[kersen]

Kersen was bleeding and angry. He ignored the question and looked Cesare over briefly to make sure that he seemed uninjured for the most part.

"Follow me," he said instead. He leaned over and took off his other shoe, handing them to Cesare to carry them, and then pulled his phone out of a garter holster on his thigh. He dialed as he started walking to the back of the bar, assuming Cesare would follow. "Cleanup outside Jazzmin," he said gruffly into the phone, sounding seriously annoyed. "Shouldn't be much, just have a look."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Scowling, the stiletto pumps tangling from his right hand, Cesare followed in spite of his sudden strong sense of indignation. He had himself under control now, his former outburst of confusion now merely another coal on the fire of anger burning behind his eyes.

The quickness, the strength, he could possibly blame on drugs--either something he'd been given, or something they had. But that pile of dust... after being stabbed in the heart. And Kersen ordering 'clean-up' like... well, like a Borgia.

As he followed, Cesare's annoyance with being caught off guard (no one ever caught him off guard), being bested, being rescued, and being kept in the dark for another sodding second boiled just beneath his skin. Even as he tried very, very hard not to be seriously impressed with Kersen. Far more than he had been with the stockings, the last time they'd met.

[kersen]

Kersen brought him around back, to the entrance that went to his basement apartment. It was only once they were inside that he turned and looked at Cesare. "I'm sorry," was the first thing he said. "That was unacceptable. Are you all right? She bit you, didn't she. It should be fine. Fuck." The last bit was because he thought about his own injury, which when he looked down was of course healed, but there was a smear of blood and his dress was ruined. "My dress."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare's hand went to the small wound at his neck when Kersen mentioned it; his fingers came away bloody, but it didn't hurt in the least. The bitch had bitten him! He was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, 'it should be fine'...

But then he glanced up to see Kersen's look of disappointment over his dress. And Cesare barked out a sudden, dark laugh. "You just turned some homicidal bitch to dust with a high heel, and all you can think is, 'My dress'." It was neither good or bad, it just was. And that was the most ridiculous thing imaginable, at the moment.

[kersen]

Kersen could smell Cesare's blood in the air. And it was distracting as hell.

"She will no longer have to worry about her clothes," Kersen said. Then he looked at Cesare for a long moment and said, "And here is where I ask you if you already knew anything about vampires at all, or if your life just changed forever. Probably not for the better, to be honest."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare narrowed his eyes. If he knew Kersen better, he would've been able to judge if it was some kind of joke. A lie. A set-up to catch the Borgia son off guard, to make a fool of him. He looked at the blood on his hand. Then looked up at Kersen again. "Possibly my life has just changed forever.

"If this isn't some elaborate hoax."

[kersen]

"I'm going to get you a drink," Kersen said. Telling, not asking. "Scotch? Bourbon? Brandy? And you can wash up if you want, bathroom's through there..." He pointed.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Like hell Cesare would be drinking anything Kersen gave him until he was certain of his position. But he could play along for now. He wanted to play along for now. The shock was fading, his mind calculating possibilities right and left.

If it was a trick, he needed information. Who, how, and why? It was a lot of trouble for Rover to go to, and where the fuck would he have gotten such special effects? What the hell kind of drugs had he used? Nothing Cesare had ever heard of, let alone seen. He felt... fine.

"Scotch," he said. "Get yourself one, too. It'll make the explanations more pleasant."

[kersen]

Kersen ducked into the closet for a moment as well, and when he emerged the dress was off and he had a short black silk robe on instead, though all of his undergarments were still on underneath. And the long black wig. He couldn't help but care what Cesare thought of him.

As he poured the scotch he tried to decide what to tell him.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

In the bathroom, Cesare splashed water on his face, pushed back his unruly curls, and dabbed at the shallow wound in his neck. Slightly more and it would've pierced the jugular... and he'd be spurting.

Only then, looking himself in the eye, seeing all the shock and amazement he'd been repressing there, did he allow himself to consider the alternative explanation: what if it wasn't a hoax?

Kersen had moved like that madwoman. Kersen had known what to do. Kersen was obviously in control of some sort of scene here that had far more going on than drag shows, pianos, and good shiraz.

What if it was real? What if Kersen was one of them?

Possibly even more reason to get as much information as he could. For entirely different reasons.

Cesare stood straight, dried his face, and unbuttoned his shirt so the collar wouldn't rub at his neck, leaving it open to midway down his chest. When he emerged from the bathroom, he paused, looked at Kersen--Jesus Christ, but the man was beautiful. Beautiful enough to be a vampire, if there was such a thing, even. The hungry look that suddenly flashed behind his eyes was more than it had been last time, for a lot of reasons. And it all depended on the next five minutes.

Cesare went to him and held out his hand for the drink.

[kersen]

Kersen handed it to him, and watched the man carefully, trying to judge his reaction.

"Maybe you should sit down," he said, gesturing to the couch. "The first thing you should know, is that if you're feeling a bit... odd... a vampire bite can have something of a narcotic effect. It varies a bit based on the breed of vampire and based on the person. But it will wear off."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare was silent at first, burying his initial reaction (which was to be contrary and tell Kersen he'd prefer to stand) and settling into a nearby seat, careful to keep his face clear of anything but cold amusement and curiosity. "Or someone's drugged me to make me think I just saw... what I saw. But let's go with your explanation, for the moment."

He held the drink--which smelled divine. Wanted, needed a sip desperately at the moment. But didn't.

[kersen]

Kersen arched a brow. "Well, that's an interesting theory." He sat down as well, crossing his legs. Stocking peeked out from under the robe. Not that he'd known Cesare was coming.

"I don't blame you for not drinking the scotch then," he added. "Look. You could just go with that theory, leave now, fall into bed, and it will all seem hazier in the morning. And if our paths cross again I won't even correct you. Or I can tell you what's really going on and I can prove it to you. I honestly don't know which would be better. Probably the first option."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Cesare's gaze flicked down to the stocking briefly, then back up to meet Kersen's eyes. The small, almost satisfied smile reappeared. "You don't know me that well, Kersen. But probably well enough to know that isn't an option at all.

"Tell me what's really going on." A slight pause, a slight cocking of his head. Another glimpse at the stocking. "Show me."

[kersen]

Kersen followed Cesare's gaze. The hint of sexual tension wasn't making the lingering smell of Cesare's blood any easier to deal with. Though at least it wasn't as strong as before.

He waited for a few seconds, and then clicked out his fangs.

[autcaesar_autnihil]

There was a rush of blood and adrenaline, similar to the all-too-recent one from the alley outside, the moment he'd been put against a wall, the moment he'd known he'd have to go for his knife, the moment he'd been afraid he was outmatched, at last, for real, for good. For perhaps a split of a second, it was terror.

And then, before the second clicked past even, it was a thrill. And it was a need. Cesare leaned forward in the seat, gaze now fixed on Kersen's mouth. So, so pretty, and now, like so many pretty things, so deadly.

"What happens, when you bite them? Really bite them, not that little nibble I got outside." He still wasn't ruling out the hoax theory. But now, oddly, he was nursing a mad, absurd hope that it wasn't.

[kersen]

The fact that Cesare seemed more intrigued than scared... maybe Kersen shouldn't be surprised, after that bit with the knife outside.

"Are you asking if I kill people?" Kersen asked. His fangs retracted again, leaving only white teeth against red lips. "No. Mostly I drink blood from a wine glass. Or... volunteers, who don't come to any harm. But can a vampire drain someone? Certainly." Pause. "You handled yourself well, considering you didn't know what you were going up against. I recommend replacing that knife with one made of pure silver."

[autcaesar_autnihil]

Now he mentioned it, Cesare could absolutely see Kersen drinking blood from a wine glass. He smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes, crinkling them slightly even as they remained fixed on Kersen's face. "I will." And I'll make sure Lucrezia keeps one on her at all times, too. Not to mention Michael. What bloody use is a bodyguard who isn't prepared for everything?

Kersen was right: the world had changed suddenly. But it had always been hostile, for Cesare, for his family. And every hostile party had their weaknesses. Again, it was possible the Kersen was steering him wrong, setting him up for something, vampire or no. But for the moment, it served no purpose to argue or demand proof of the silver matter.

"What was I up against, though? Speed, strength--I've never seen anything move like that. All that power." Cesare licked his lips. Lifted the drink slightly. But didn't drink. Not yet.

[kersen]

"Speed, strength, yes," Kersen said. "Nearly impossible to kill. And some have minor mind control powers. The narcotic effect of the bite, and our blood can have healing properties."