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“Follow me.”
Before Abolish has time to think about what’s being said, he’s already moving in the direction of the closest gate leading out of town, trailing right behind Scott.
Unease creeps down his spine like a chill, but he shakes the feeling off, instead focusing on the man walking in front of him. They’ve spoken twice since Abolish arrived at the ruins of Oakhurst, both times while in a crowd, and Abolish had quickly noted that while Scott was definitely a self-centered nobleman, he seemed to be the perceptive kind— the kind that, if he looked too closely, could see through the lies.
That would be rather annoying, but oh well. First things first.
“Where are we going?”
“Hm?” Scott tilts his head. “Oh, just somewhere we can talk privately.”
Yeah, like that isn’t suspicious at all. “Right. And what did you want to talk about?”
“Well you see, I find it rather strange that out of fourteen people that arrived here on the same day, only three of us have actual ties to this place. Owen, myself—” Scott glances over his shoulder, blue eyes watching him almost knowingly. “—and apparently you.”
“It’s rather strange, yeah,” Abolish agrees with a shrug.
For him, this trip had been planned in advance many months earlier, though Morcant had suggested he should pay his respects to his parents and ancestors at some point, years ago. Most of these strangers can’t say the same, instead drawn here by stories of the past, of the supernatural, or by accident. But with the beacon at the centre of the town glowing with holy magic, Abolish doesn’t believe it’s much of a coincidence.
Scott hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything, turning back around to lead them further into the forest.
From the limited scouting he’s been able to do, Scott doesn’t seem to be leading them towards any particular landmark, and even though the density of trees is increasing to give the illusion that they’re alone—that they’re isolated—they actually remain rather close to the path.
When Scott comes to a halt and spins towards him, he claps his hands together and smiles. Abolish stops walking instantly. “Owen’s a rather interesting individual, but it wasn’t too hard to get the truth out of him, he stands out, you see, even if he doesn’t want to, but you are quite the opposite. You disappear in a group in a way Owen can’t—don’t want to draw attention, I assume—but it does leave me wondering: Why have you come to Oakhurst?”
And this is exactly why he didn’t want to draw attention.
He makes sure his heartrate remains even when replies, “I came to Oakhurst to honor my parents.”
“Mhm, mhm.” Scott nods a few times, the sound he makes one of amused disbelief. “Yeah, sure, and now be a dear and tell me the truth.”
“I was sent to find the cure.” Abolish’s eyes widen in surprise, and he quickly clamps his mouth shut. What. He hadn’t meant to say that— there was no real reason for him to answer at all, or to follow Scott into the woods, or to indulge any of this, and yet—
There’s a smile on Scott’s face, and as he chokes his head in amusement, Abolish suddenly notices the fangs slipping past his lips. Blood rushes to his ears, and Abolish’s hand moves to the silver sword at his hip.
Abolish knew that there were vampires, that Scott could be a vampire, but this— this is not— it’s at a whole different scale, because if Abolish has to follow and listen and answer that means he’s—
“What a surprise it must be for you then,” Scott says in a purr, his obvious delight a horrible contrast to the horror coursing through Abolish, “that you found your sire instead.”
Sire. Sire. Sire.
The word sticks like cotton to the back of his tongue. Sire, a common term used to address the creator of a fledgeling. Sire, an old-fashioned term for the fledgeling to call their creator. Sire, more archaic, a term used to denote the relationship between a vampire and their thrall.
He’s a thrall— he’s Scott’s thrall.
A leaf crunches beneath his boot as he takes an involuntary step backwards.
Scott’s blue eyes snap to his face in an instant, and any amusement he’d displayed earlier is instantly replaced with a calculated hunger. “Now, now, we’re not planning to run, are we?” It’s a casual question, almost flippant, as if Scott is bored.
Is he going to run? The path isn’t far.
Almost every fiber inside of his body screams at him to get away from the threat in front of him as far and fast as possible, but with Scott’s piercing gaze pointed at him, Abolish feels it impossible to move, and yet he finds that at his core, he doesn’t want to run.
He doesn’t want to.
The realisation makes his throat go tight, and Abolish watches with wide eyes as Scott’s mouth ticks up in satisfaction when he undoubtedly hears the rush of Abolish’s blood speed up.
“No?” Scott questions in a soft murmur, and Abolish freezes in place when a cold finger taps the bottom of his chin, tilting his face up. “Pity, you would have made for an entertaining chase, if nothing else.” Scott sighs, gaze lazily drifting over Abolish’s face. “Oh well, I suppose you possess soooome measure of intelligence, your foolish decision to turn yourself into a thrall notwithstanding.”
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Abolish blurts out, then has to hold back a wince when a sharp nail presses into the tender flesh of his throat.
Scott tuts, eyes gleaming. “Am I? Oh that’s hilarious, who exactly told you that little lie, dear?”
When he hesitates to answer, the fingers slide from his chin to his neck. The pressure around his throat is light enough to allow him to breathe and talk, but it’s there, present, a threat and a promise.
“Alright,” Abolish concedes warily. It would be so easy for Scott to kill him, or to give him an order that Abolish has to follow. The thought makes his stomach churn. “The organisation I work for, they offer the blood of powerful, deceased vampires to their best agents, and I was told the vampire’s blood— your blood, that it was—” His voice cracks, and it’s smaller when he continues, “I was told there was no risk of becoming a thrall, ‘cause you died six centuries ago…”
He hums in acknowledgement and slides his thumb from the hollow of Abolish’s throat to press up against the artery. Abolish knows his pulse must be thundering below Scott’s touch, and he stays rooted to the ground, for some reason unable to do anything but allow Scott do whatever he pleases. Except, no, he knows the reason.
Fear, he realises distantly, he’s afraid of what Scott will do.
And utterly hopeless to stop it.
“I was put in a coffin six centuries ago, not actually dead, obviously, just asleep,” Scott replies idly, like an afterthought. As if that difference—that mistake—hasn’t jeopardised Abolish’s entire future. “Who could have possibly thought I’d wake up to a gift, dressed up to play the part and all.”
Abolish wants to protest, to drag himself away, to take the dark amusement in Scott’s eyes and turn it into shock as he plunges a stake into his heart, but he can’t— he can’t do it.
He doesn’t know where it went wrong, how the organisation didn’t know that Scott had been asleep instead of dead, who made the mistake Abolish has to pay for, why he has to be the one to feel so lost, all he knows is that if he wants to stay alive, if he wants to stay in control of himself, even just a bit, then he has to play along.
And Abolish so desperately wants to.
So he swallows what he wants to say, and instead forces his voice to stay stronger than he feels as he questions, “What are you going to do to me now?”
“To you?” Scott lets out a shocked laugh. It’s like he hadn’t even considered it. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing; Scott is meant to be a powerful vampire, and even at his weakest, there’s definite truth to that. “Oh no, I’m not going to do anything to you, dear, just with you. Whyever would I want to damage my new toy?”
“I’m not a toy,” Abolish protests weakly before he can bite his tongue. “A mistake, maybe.” Why is he even arguing this? It’s stupid and foolish, there’s no point in arguing, but he can’t help himself— can’t help but feel the panic surging through his veins. “But not a toy, and definitely not a gift.”
Scott looks amused, and a pleasant smile stays on his lips as he listens to Abolish. He doesn’t look upset, which is a huge relief, but Abolish still inhales shakily when Scott moves his hand away from his throat and up to his jaw. His skin is like ice against Abolish’s heated skin, and it sends a shock through him.
“Aren’t you?” Scott questions in a soft whisper, like he’s telling a secret. His gaze trails off to the side, and Abolish keeps himself deadly still when Scott’s hand cups his jaw and and the tip of his finger brushes against his ear— against the cross earring. He’s never felt more like prey when Scott’s smile widens. “After all, you can’t possibly think it’s a coincidence that the organisation sent you here, on the exact day that my sleeping curse was coming to an end?”
Ah.