The Reckoning

To say Khalid was an angry, pissy, bitter, absolutely furious, sick of freaking Vampires named after foreign countries, ready to stab himself in the gut to free himself, sick and tired Fae was a…no actually, that summed it up pretty good how he had been feeling. He was disgusted by France and the professor, he actually threw up the morning after they first slept together again…literally. He threw up. He had been planning her death but no matter what cruel and sadistic things he thought up it just didn’t seem evil enough for the damned Vampire. He couldn’t let her off easy…no. France had to suffer. She had to suffer so badly, a suffering so terrible he would hold it warmly in his heart for the rest of his existence and have no regrets and no but’s that he should have done to torture her. But he couldn’t think of France now…disgusting, vindictive, nasty little-! No. No France. He needed to see Tristian. Strangely, he had missed her…he had never missed anyone before.

He snuck into her room like he did so many times and silently moved up behind her. He smirked to see her sitting there in her little underwear and bra…Misha had to pick those out, it had Misha written all over it. He knew because he had gone through Misha’s drawers before…curiosity alone. He couldn’t help it. He watched and admired her for a few moments before coming up behind her “I don’t think your capturing the cold-hearted bitch properly in her dead eyes” He commented before kissing Tristian on the neck then nuzzling his face into her hair and breathing in deeply. This…this was a woman. A pulse, warmth, a fresh, human smell….not that leech. He raised a hand and brushed it through her hair some “Why are you painting the dean? You know a painting won’t excuse fire” Yeah...he had heard about that but he was the boogeyman, he knew everything.

He laughed when she got so freaked out, a grin spreading across his lips like a gleeful child. He loved when he scared people, but hell he was the boogeyman and if he could scare people without even using his power he gave himself extra brownie points. He kissed the side of her head as she calmed down from the fright he gave her, still standing behind her until she spoke and he made a face, coming around to stand more infront of her “No. Miserable. I’m drinking coffee laced with pixie sticks for the next six months of my life” Of course it was miserable, he had been the nasty professor around his nasty vampire lover…miserable didn’t even begin to truly explain. He glanced at the painting as she added details to it, tilting his head. Art…he never really understood art. To him, hieroglyphs were art, they had a purpose. All other art? Eh. “What have you been up too besides setting things on fire and painting?” he asked, flashing her a smile.

He snickered “Castielle is older than Evelyn, of course she’s scary. Though frankly I prefer dear Cassie, she’s never broken any of my bones before….” He grumbled. He was still bitter at Evelyn for breaking his kneecaps, he still didn’t think he had deserved that. “Evelyn loves art however so, you may win with her on this one” He looked at the painting a little while longer before back to Tristian “Have you spoken to Misha lately? Has she sprouted a horn yet? Do rainbows follow her where she walks? Do birds land on her shoulder and sing to her?” There was disdain in his voice, he still was a bit miffed that it had been Misha who threw Tristian through a wall and injured her. He hadn't gone to see her yet because he knew she would cry and apologize and quite frankly, he wanted to stay mad at her a little longer.

He pouted when she put on the shirt, obviously not liking that she was covering herself up “I liked how you looked without the shirt” He teased with a mischievous look on his face…until she brought up France and the professor and his expression turned to disgust “Don’t mention the bitch” His voice was full of hate and venom. He had to deal with them enough as it was, having to look into her damned ugly cold face every day and the professor all love sick like a puppy. Last thing he wanted was to think about her when he didn’t have to, while he was here with Tristian he wanted to pretend France didn’t exist. “We both hate her, so let us not speak about her” He grumbled, shaking his head and he took in a breath and let it out to restart himself like he had too before he even came here to see her “I have been up to pretty much nothing. That is why I am here…to not be bored”

He came up behind her as she watched her hand, smirking like a naughty little kid and ran his hands over her butt “Want me to kiss it and make it feel better?” He asked playfully against her neck, kissing the skin a few times before growling teasingly into her hair. He leaned back though when she got up on the counter and nodded to her response about Misha though he made a slight face “It’s pretty useless to make her anything. The Elders are going to end up taking her no matter what D’artangan says or does” He slid his hands up Tristian’s legs…he just couldn’t seem to stop himself from touching her. “He should just enjoy her while she lasts” He grinned “Much like how I want to enjoy you right now”

When she pushed his hands away he was about to keep teasing, but he saw her expression and listened to the tone of her voice and found his hands dropping to his sides as he watched her oddly. What was up with her? They hadn’t slept together since France popped up, since the professor had been so occupied with her, and now that they had a chance she didn’t want too? What the hell? He frowned and watched her walk away, standing there puzzled for a few minutes as she checked on the potion. He was horny. Very horny. And bored. Very bored. And he had missed her…very, very much and she was rejecting him? Well, now he knew what puppies felt like when there owners dumped them out on the street.

He slowly walked over to her as she sent the vial away with the bird. Normally that would have been the prime opportunity to make a funny joke or sarcastic comment but he just folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head “Did I miss something? What’s up with you?”

He sighed deeply...he had been worried about this. He knew Tristian would be ticked that the other side was screwing around with France but he didn’t think she was going to totally push him away because of it “I haven’t done anything. Get that straight. He did” Why couldn’t people just see the differences? He saw him and the professor like twins, they looked alike, but totally different identities. Apparently no one cared to view it the same way, and now he was being punished for something he couldn’t control. “Will it help for you to know I bathed twelve times in scalding hot water and disinfect afterwards?” He asked, trying to crack a joke but he had a feeling jokes right now wouldn’t do a damned thing. Though he was telling the truth about the shower thing though. When she rubbed at his eyes he stared at her and hoped she wasn’t actually crying…but he had a bad feeling that she was, or at least trying not to.

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair “You’re seriously mad at me for something I can’t do anything about?” He made an irritated sound “Look, I’m going to handle France, alright? I will and I can’t understand if you don’t try and explain this to me because yes, I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything…why are you mad because the professor is sleeping with France? Let him have the bitch. I want you”

He didn’t do well being serious. The first part of his life was all about being serious. His siblings were serious people, couldn’t take a joke to save their lives and he never wanted to be like them. Jokes were safe, jokes kept him and those around him from having to delve into important matters that he didn’t really want to discuss and rather brush off. But apparently Tristian wasn’t in the mood, which meant he was stuck trying to fix things without being funny…and he wasn’t good at that exactly. He shrugged “Kill her was part of the plan, yes. It’s either that or she sticks around forever. France isn’t going anywhere, Tristian, not if I don’t get rid of her. I got her to go before but now she’s got some freaking vendetta. She won’t leave the professor” He kept a distance for now, but when he saw her with his shirt he sighed. How did he end up the bad guy in this? This was why relationships sucked. The guy was always to blame.

“So what? Now…were never going to have sex again because of France?” Oh yeah, the woman was dead, very dead. Because of that damned Vampire he was never going to have sex again and Tristian was pushing away from him. She was dead. Deader than dead. He walked over and was trying to find the words to reason with her but he wasn’t coming up with anything. He needed D’artagnan.…D’artagnan was ever so fluffy and good with his words. He caught sight of the dress and his gaze lingered on it for a few moments before he went over and squatted down before her “I don’t feel any better you know, with him and France. I feel dirty. And disgusting. And horrified. And traumatized. And quite suicidal” He gave her a small smile. He was trying here….he took her hands and held them as he watched her “Fine, if you don’t want to have sex then…fine” Oh that was so hard to say damn it! “Can I at least take you to the dance then?”

“And I should care about the professor’s feelings…why? Why do you even care? And you don’t think I can kill someone and not get caught? No one would know it was me” He gave her a bit of a suspicious look. What did he care if his human side got devastated, France would be out of the picture and they wouldn’t have to stress over about her. He didn’t want Tristian just for sex…he just happened he really liked sex with her. All other women he had ever slept with were maybe two or three times and then he was bored and done with them. But not her. He liked having sex with her, it didn’t seem like just a mundane task. Her logic that she turned on him made him give her a dirty look, because he knew it was true and he didn’t like hearing her give him logic about the situation. But he wouldn’t say anything...he wouldn’t acknowledge she was right. A little bit. Not a lot.

He smiled at her when she chuckled “Well, technically he hasn’t officially invited her. And I don’t care even if he did. I’m taking you” He nodded his head back towards the dress “So I can see you in that sexy little number” He got up and sat next to her on the bed and sighed, gently putting his hands on her face “Don’t cry…please” He could see the tears in her eyes and if she cried…she’d make him feel like an ass and he hated that because he liked being an ass and didn’t want to feel guilty for it. “If you cry, I will have to make you feel better and we all know I am disgustingly horrible at that”

He blinked, his expression blank and uncaring “Well…I don’t care” He said simply. Why should he care? The man made his life a living hell, far complicated then he needed. He then sighed in frustration, shaking his head at her. He was trying to bring a solution to their problem, and she was so dead set against it. “Fine, you want them to keep getting in the way, then fine” He didn’t get her. It bothered her so much and she was complaining about it, so instead of letting him fix it she was going to continue to be pissed off about it. That made no sense to him, but then again lots of things Tristian did made no sense to him. He didn’t know if it was specific things just catered to Tristian or if all women were this frustrating. He didn’t know, because he had never been those close to any girl before in his life.

He grinned when she agreed to go with him, feeling glad that at least she’d go out to the dance with him…and then, you know, maybe afterwards he could really get a chance to take that dress off and have a nice roll in the hay but, with his luck? Probably not, but maybe he could charm her. He looked at his watch to check the time and nodded “Seven is perfect” He could go home and freshen up to look decent…at least, in his mind decent. Was his version of decent fit for a fancy ball? He hadn’t really attended many balls before, even though for so many years they were what everyone seemed to do, but they had never been his thing. He gave her a look when she started shooing him away “Please, I would not stand you up” He was bad but jeez, he wasn’t that bad. Before she kicked him completely out however he snuck in quick and stole a kiss on her lips, giving her a big smile “I’ll see you at seven”

As Khalid entered the room, he remembered why he had never liked balls. Bunch of pretentious immortals with sticks up their asses parading around in fancy clothing…and now things were even worse, there were modern teenagers thinking they looked so cool playing dress up and screwing up classical dances. Why was he here again in a suit? Oh yeah…Tristian, because he couldn’t have slept at night not knowing how she looked in that sexy red dress. And of course to make up for the fact she was angry at him for France even though it wasn’t his damned fault. Right…all of that….when in the hell did he start caring? Well, whatever, he’d try his best to enjoy it but before Tristian arrived he needed something to occupy himself so he made his way to the champagne and started knocking back a few glasses.

“You look hot tonight, Khalid” He closed his eyes and groaned, slowly letting out a breath and looking over to Parker as she stood beside him smirking. “Parker….thanks for showing up. You’ve given me more of a reason to drink” He muttered and drank down another glass of champagne. Parker chuckled “Have you seen D’artagnan?” She asked and he shrugged “Somewhere with Misha” He threw her a grin and her expression soured “Who are you with?” She asked and he gave her a fuck off look “Parker, shouldn’t you be off sucking someone’s soul out of their dick?” He asked with a raised brow. Parker chuckled and got close to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close “Mmm, I like it when you talk so rough” She purred, bringing her face close to his and he smirked at her “You know what I would love? A pillow over your face” He hissed and pulled back.

She laughed “Oh you…are you waiting for Tristian?” She asked but he didn’t reply, which gave her an answer as it was. She nodded “I figured, since I saw her walk in”. Khalid glanced at her suspiciously then glanced around the room “Where is she?” He asked but Parker just gave him a wicked look “Here…let me help get her attention” Her appearance shimmered away to look like France, then grabbed around his neck and brought him close, pressing her mouth against his.

Khalid had been forced through many disgusting things before, but kissing Parker had to be one of the worse things…especially with her looking like France. Well great, now all the alcohol in his system was now going to spew right back out. He wretched back, a repulsed expression on his face “What the hell, Parker?” He spat furiously, glaring at her. Her eyes though looked past him just as the lights above them shattered, making him jolt and everyone in the room scream in surprise. He glanced around then looked behind him to see who Parker was smirking at but he already knew before his eyes even found her. His eyes widened as he stared at Tristian and knew he was in so, so, so much trouble. No, this wasn’t even just trouble…he was royally fucked. He was going to kill Parker, wring her neck and torment her so badly it would make medieval torture look like a bubble bath. But right now he couldn’t bother with her and he simply shot her a daggered look before running after Tristian.

“Tristian!” He shouted as he went after her, catching up with her out in the hall and grabbing her arm “Whoa, wait, that was not what it looked like! It wasn’t even France!” He told her loudly, frustration over the situation. Why did he always turn out to be the bad guy?! Usually he loved being the bag guy but when it came to this drama, no, he rather hated it.

He had expected to get yelled at when he caught up with her…not thrown against a damned wall. He made a surprised sound before grunting as he hit the wall, feeling all the air in his lungs rush out of his mouth. Oh…shit…oh shit that hurt! His body was in such shock all he could do was let himself slump over and sit there on the floor, trying to gather himself. Was he bleeding? He raised a hand to the back of his head and growled. Oh yeah, bleeding. His spine was probably broken too, along with everything else in his body. Why in the world did she have to be a witch? Why not a…a…shape shifter who could turn into a bunny?! Was that so hard to ask for?! No she had to be a damned witch with a terrible temper and who didn’t freaking listen to him. He slowly shook his head and looked up at her as she yelled at him, glaring. “Would you listen to me?!” He snarled over her words, just wishing she’d shut up and let him explain for freaking three seconds!

Then she was off again and he groaned as he slowly tried to stand. Oh…damn it…he was going to be hurting for a long ass time from this, but right now that was the least of his worries. He should have just let her go, storm off and break someone else in her anger, but he knew he couldn’t. So he forced himself forward after her, even though he was pretty sure he would probably bleed out from his head before he got to her, but then maybe she’d feel guilty! “TRISTIAN!” He barked “God damn it come here and listen to me! It’s wasn’t France!”

Damn she was fast for a angry, crying witch on heels! He was about to give up and just let himself slump over on the floor and bleed out because, well, seemed far better than having to continue to pursue her and probably get yelled at more and thrown about more. When she mentioned France again he growled loudly “DAMN IT TRISTIAN!” Was she not listening?! “IT WASN”T FRANCE!” He roared, which made his head start throbbing angrily. He raised his hand and pressed it against the wound in the back of his hand, hissing in pain. Then she started screaming at him in another language, awesome, because one language wasn’t bad enough for him to get the point she was pissed. When she finally stopped he forced himself to move quickly towards her “Jesus, you are one pain in the ass witch! You don’t fucking listen! It was PARKER, damn it, it wasn’t France! And I didn’t kiss her, she-“ he stopped when he noticed she wasn’t even paying attention to him! Now he was being ignored?!

“What in the hell are you doing?!” He was not in the mood to be ignored, watching her knock on walls and shit “Do not ignore me, Tristian, you’re going to listen to me and-“ he stopped mid-sentence again as he looked around and noticed something was up as well. His brow furrowed and he frowned, his body tensing and he lowered his hand from his wound. He quickly grabbed Tristian and pulled her close to him “Stay away from the walls” He said lowly, looking up then down the dark hallway “This is all a illusion…” He tried to mist, but he couldn’t and he cursed under his breath “No magic allowed either. No surprise”