mhalachai | FIC: Inevitable 40: Darkness Inside

Inevitable Forty: Darkness Inside
by Mhalachai
Note: We're in the home stretch! One more chapter until the full moon! (but then there's another 20 chapters to go) Place yer bets! As always, please comment, question, anything. I'm off to run around in the rain.

~~~~~~~

A tap at his bedroom door made Harry to look up from the pile of clothes on his bed. Damian stood framed in the door, his broad shoulders almost brushing both sides of the frame.

"What are you doing?" Damian asked, turning a small flat box over in his hands.

"Trying to figure if I need to take all this stuff with me," Harry replied. "A lot of it made sense to buy at the time, you know, but I can't see ever needing this," he brandished a grey 'Animators Inc.' t-shirt in the air, "Back home."

"You use it when you run, do you not?" When Harry nodded, Damian continued. "Do you not plan to run when you return to England?"

Harry shrugged as he tossed the shirt onto the window seat. "Don't see when I'll have the time. Breakfast is early, then I've got classes all day, then homework and Quidditch practice." It belatedly occurred to him that Damian was still standing on the threshold. "Would you like to come in?"

Damian stepped carefully into the room, then went over to the desk and sat in the chair to watch Harry dither over his possessions. Considering that Harry had arrived at Anita's house with a tiny suitcase and little more than the clothes on his back, it was almost an embarrassment of riches.

Dropping a dark red dress shirt back onto the bed, Harry made a space in the mess and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'll figure it out, I suppose," he said. "I've still got a few days until we leave."

"Six days, correct?" Damian asked. "You are leaving on the thirtieth in the evening."

Harry nodded. "Two days after the full moon." Even the mention of the full moon made his heart flutter in his chest. Four more nights until Harry learned once and for all if he was a werewolf or not.

Even though he'd spent the last week with the lycanthropes, running or lifting weights or any of a million things, he hadn't been able to sleep the last few nights, worrying about the change. Jason and Stephen had taken to spending the night at Anita's house, usually bunking in with Harry. The first time Harry woke up beside the two blond werewolves, he had freaked out because he hadn't been freaked out. He'd slept over at Ron's house, sure, but not in Ron's bed.

That he couldn't fall asleep anymore unless there was someone else in the bed was starting to worry him. Sure, they were all fully clothed, but what was he going to do back in England?

"It might not be as bad as you are anticipating," Damian offered, bringing Harry back from his worrying. "Nathaniel says that he is more at ease as a wereleopard than he was before."

"But he's here, with a pard and people around him," Harry pointed out. "I'm going to be alone! I can't tell anyone! Dumbledore said that it'll be okay, but if I change--" Harry buried his face in his hands. "What if I hurt someone?"

"If this is your worry, you can take steps to ensure that you will not," Damian said. "You said you had a friend, a werewolf. How does he not hurt people?"

Harry sat back up. "He's not really my friend, so much," he said, not looking at Damian. "He was my parents' friend, them and Sirius." The thought of Sirius made Harry's guts twist. Sirius would have made the best of Harry being a werewolf, setting up a place for the full moon, and changing into his Animagus form to keep Harry company. Sirius wouldn't have worried about the 'what-if's, he'd have focused on the 'what is'.

Not able to sit still any longer, Harry sprang to his feet and strode the few steps to the window, looking out onto the darkened night. "Remus takes this potion, to help keep him calm during the change," he said in a hurry, hoping desperately that his grandfather hadn't noticed anything. "It's got Wolfsbane in it, and other stuff."

"Would they make you take this drug during the full moon?" Damian asked.

Harry winced. If Dumbledore wanted Harry to take the Wolfsbane potion, that meant that Snape would have to know that Harry was a werewolf. What a fucking disaster! Harry thought. "I don't know."

"Is there a way you can refuse?" There was a hint of urgency in Damian's voice, and it made Harry turn around.

"What do you mean?"

Damian stood up. "The humans have brought us into their world. Instead of attempting to destroy us with guns and fire, they now try to make us harmless with their laws and their drugs. They do not understand that such measures are not a control, they are a facade."

"But they have to do something," Harry argued, not really sure why. "They can't just send Anita out to kill all the vampires and werewolves."

"That's not what I mean," Damian said. "The humans have rules for the vampires, on who we can feed on and what damage we can do. They think these rules contain us, when in fact we are controlled by what has always controlled us."

"What's that?" Harry demanded.

"Fear. Power. Our masters still hold our reins, as they have forever." Damian shook his head, blood-red hair spilling over his shoulders. "If this city was held by another Master, one who craves bloodshed as Christoff does, even the presence of Anita would not stop the monsters."

"But the lycanthropes aren't controlled by their alphas like vampires are, right?"

"Unless they are the Master's animal to call." Damian sat back in the chair, not looking at Harry. "I did not mean to talk about this. I only wanted to say that you should look into options to protect the people around you, that do not dull your faculties through drug."

Harry stared at the vampire. "Wait, you said something about Christoff. The Christoff that we'll be seeing in London?"

Damian went still, like vampires sometimes did. "Yes."

"But there haven't been any problems with vampires in London, have there?"

"No." Damian picked up the thin box he'd laid on the desk and turned it over in his hands again. "London is a special case."

When no further detail seemed to be forthcoming, Harry asked, "How is it a special case?"

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Christoff did not come to the city by the usual means. In fact, the Council decreed that whoever hold London keep the city calm, to human eyes. They do not wish to have the vampires in the only country other than America declared monster again, when they can prevent it."

"Are me and Anita human eyes?"

"No." Damian looked up at Harry. "When you and Anita visit London, it is under Jean-Claude's banner."

"Great," Harry muttered. "Has everything been set up?"

"How do you mean?"

"Last week, Nathaniel said that Jean-Claude still had to get some kind of negotiations done," Harry said. "Did he do that? Is everything going to be okay?"

"From what I gather, things are all planned," Damian said. "Jean-Claude has indicated that all is in readiness."

The way Damian said it, didn't really calm Harry's nerves. "Great."

"It is," Damian said. "Jean-Claude has said that you will be protected, and that is good enough for me."

Harry stared at Damian in surprise. The vampire looked very hard at the doorjamb, the faintest hint of pink in his cheeks in what looked suspiciously like he was blushing.

Obviously uncomfortable, Damian stood and held the thin box out to Harry. Harry got to his feet and took the box from Damian. "What's this?"

"It is a gift," Damian said formally. "It was a tradition of my people, for a father to give this to his son when his son reached the age of a warrior."

Harry lifted the cover of the box. Inside lay a long metal knife. The handle was two snakes with red eyes twined toghther, their tails melting into the knife blade.

Lifting the knife from the box, Harry was surprised that the handle fit into his palm as if it was made for him.

"My father gave this to me," Damian continued. "From what I hear of your mother--" He stopped when Harry looked up at him. "Had I known, I would have given the knife to her."

"I think she would have liked that," Harry said, stunned. "I... Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me," Damian said. "It is I who need to thank you, for standing with Anita in battle."

"I was just doing what I had to," Harry stammered

Damian smiled wryly. "That is the mark of a warrior," he said.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. "I should get that," Harry said. "Anita's over at the Circus, and Nathaniel and Micah are at work."

"Of course," Damian said.

Harry laid the knife box carefully on the desk. "Thanks for this," he said. "It really means a lot."

The doorbell rang again. "You should get that," Damian said.

With a sudden grin, Harry dashed down the stairs. He drew his wand out of his shorts, just in case, and held it behind his back as he pulled open the front door to reveal Tammy Reynolds, who smiled tiredly at Harry.

"Hi, Harry," Tammy said.

"Detective Reynolds, hi," Harry replied, sticking his wand into his back pocket. "Anita's not here."

"Oh." Tammy frowned. "Actually, I needed to talk to you, too."

"Of course, come in," Harry said, opening the door wider. "Would you like some tea?"

"Only if it's herbal," Tammy said as she followed Harry to the kitchen. "Even though she's on formula now, Tannis gets cranky when I drink too much caffeine. Don't ask me how she knows."

"Are you not working anymore?" Harry asked as he set the kettle on the stove.

"Today was my last day," Tammy said. She slipped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, watching Harry take a pair of mugs out of the cupboard. "We let the wizards go."

Harry set down the mugs a little too hard. "You let them go?" he demanded incredulously as Damian came into the kitchen.

"They made bail," Tammy said. For all that she appeared exhausted, her eyes were sharp as she made eye contact with Harry. "Off the record, someone made a deal to get them out."

"What sort of deal?" Harry demanded. In his head, he was frantically trying to remember where he had put that card Dumbledore had given him, for the American solicitor.

"The kind where no one is happy," Tammy said. "We had a lawyer for those two idiots appear at the station a few days ago. The D.A. made us let them go."

"But what about what they did to Zerbrowski?"

"All dealt with." Tammy accepted the cup of chamomile tea that Harry placed on the table. "I'm not any happier with this than you are, Harry, trust me. But at least they got fired."

"They told you that?" Harry asked, getting out the sugar as he waited for his cup of tea to steep.

"No, a friend of a friend did." Tammy glanced over at Damian. "It didn't hurt that they finally figured out who you were."

"What do you mean?"

Tammy took a sip of tea. "From what I hear, when the head of the Auror department learned that two of his men were disarmed by Harry Potter, he was a little less than impressed. Add to that the fact that they both ended up in a non-magical jail with no way to get out, and they're out of a job."

"Will they come after Harry because of that?" Damian asked from the corner.

Tammy shook her head. "Attacking another wizard in the course of their job is one thing," she said. "Going after someone like Harry as part of a vendetta is suicide. Their wands would be snapped and they'd be imprisoned for life."

"Someone like me?" Harry's words fell into a sudden silence. "What kind of person do you mean?"

Tammy set her cup down and spread her hands wide on the table. "Like it or not, Harry, you're a symbol to a lot of people."

"But no one here had to deal with Voldemort," Harry protested.

"No, they didn't, but they had to deal with Grindelwald."

That name was familiar, but it took Harry a few seconds to remember why. "I thought Professor Dumbledore dealt with him."

"Oh, Albus Dumbledore killed Grindelwald, but he wasn't the only one in that fight," Tammy snapped. "Just like with everyone else back then, any solider with magical ability was sent to the front in World War II, but they were fighting Grindelwald's men. Didn't matter if they had wands or not. Considering what they were up against, they took anyone they could get."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Even though he didn't want the drink anymore, Harry measured two spoons of sugar into his tea and stirred slowly. "No one from America is fighting Voldemort, I thought."

"They're not, but I talked to my great-uncle, who was over in Germany in 1945. The current head of the American Aurors is John Cassidy. He was one of those war heroes, single-handedly took out a whole squadron of Grindelwald's wizards when his squad was overrun. He's taken over the Spencer case for the Aurors."

"Have you been talking to him?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Tammy said slowly. "He showed up at the station to get his Aurors this morning. If he says that you're out of it, you are."

"But why do you trust him?" Harry pressed. "Couldn't he just have been saying that to get his people back?"

"I don't think so," Tammy said. "A lot of my older relatives will only have anything to do with certain of those type of wizard, and Auror Cassidy's one of them."

"So Harry is out of it," Damian murmured.

"Yes." Tammy fixed Harry with a glare. "As long as he keeps out of trouble."

Harry shrugged. "I'm going back home in a week," he said, trying to keep a blank face.

"Well, that's all I've got to say," Tammy said as she stood up. "Will you tell Anita?"

"Sure thing." Harry hesitated, then asked, "Did Auror Cassidy say anything about Anita? When you talked with him this morning?"

"No," Tammy said. "He didn't mention her, and I wasn't going to bring it up."

"Oh. Okay, I guess."

Tammy smiled at Harry. "I need to go home before Larry starts wondering where I am. Thanks for the tea."

"You're welcome," Harry said automatically. "Thanks for coming to tell me, about the Aurors and stuff."

"You had a right to know." Again Tammy glanced at Damian, but spoke to Harry. "It's too bad we couldn't get together for dinner while you were in town. Maybe if you're ever back in town."

After Tammy had driven away, Harry stood on the porch and stared up at the moon. "It's weird," he said.

"What is?" Damian asked.

"What Tammy told me, about Grindelwald and stuff. About thinking those Aurors are out there."

"She seemed very confidant that they would not come after you," Damian said.

"I guess."

"I wonder what Anita will think of this," Damian continued.

Harry bit his lower lip, thinking. "Maybe I should call her? To tell her?"

"I do not think that will be necessary," Damian said. "She is with Jean-Claude this evening, in the Master's lair. Nothing can harm her tonight."

"I guess you're right." Still, Harry couldn't shake the vaguely uneasy feeling in his stomach, when he thought about Anita.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tell me where we're going again?" I asked, pulling my hand out of Jean-Claude's.

He turned to me, the flickering light from our only candle casting odd shadows on his face. "There is something I wanted you to see, ma petite, that is all," he said. He held his hand out to me again.

"Why don't you just tell me what it is?" I asked. The darkness of the stone hallways, far below the living quarters in the Circus, pressed in on me as I looked back the way we had come. I couldn't even make out the rough stone steps we'd just climbed down.

"Because it is something you must see for yourself," Jean-Claude said patiently. "We are almost there."

This really wasn't what I had been expecting when I arrived at the Circus tonight. My bodyguard for the night, a wererat named Alvaro, was stretched out on the couches up in the living room, waiting for my return. Jean-Claude had said he wanted to show me something, but hadn't told me what. I'd been sort of leery about it, but had taken his hand and gone with him.

Now, I was wondering what was possessing me to follow him deeper and deeper into the stone bowels of the Circus. This had gone beyond Jean-Claude's normal surprises.

We reached a crude wooden door set in the stone wall. Jean-Claude handed me the candle, then pulled a large metal key from somewhere and put it in the door. The metal creaked and groaned as he turned the key in the lock. "Would you care to step inside?"

What I wanted to do was to run back upstairs, but I wasn't going to tell Jean-Claude that. Holding the candle out in front of me, I asked, "What's in there?"

"Nothing but rock, ma petite," Jean-Claude assured me. "Shall I go first?"

"No," I grumbled. I really didn't think Jean-Claude would do anything that would surprise me too much. I just didn't like going into unfamiliar places, especially in the dark.

Keeping a careful eye on the uneven floor, I stepped into the room. It was more of a dry cavern, with a ceiling that went as high as I could see in the dim light. There was a wide path cut in the wall from the door down to the floor of the cavern, and I followed it down.

I hadn't known this place existed under the Circus. Lifting the candle, I looked around. The room had to be large enough to put my entire house in it.

The place was silent, so silent I could hear my heartbeat drumming in my chest. Giving the cavern one last look, I was about to turn to go back up the path to the door, when all of a sudden there was the large metal clang of the door locking, echoing in the chamber.

I whirled around, the candle wavering dangerously in my haste to see Jean-Claude calmly sliding the metal key into his pocket.

He'd locked us in.

My heart pounding so hard now it was hard to speak. "I've had enough of this," I said. "Let's go."

"Enough?" Jean-Claude asked, sauntering down the stone path. "Are you certain? Have you taken the opportunity to stare into the darkness, Anita? To see what lies there?"

"This isn't fucking funny, Jean-Claude," I exclaimed. I marched over to him and held out my hand. "Give me the key, now!"

Jean-Claude looked at me, an empty amused mask on his face. "But I am not ready to leave, not yet." In a blur of motion so my eyes couldn't follow, he grabbed the candle from me and had danced away before I could make a grab for him.

I stood, frozen, as Jean-Claude placed the candle on a rock outcropping, and walked away from me. This couldn't be happening... Hell, I didn't even know what was happening. All I knew was that I was getting scared.

"About a hundred years ago, in Haiti, there was a voodoo priest, who was very evil," Jean-Claude said, as if he was reading from a child's story book. "So very evil. Do you know what this man did, Anita?"

That was the second time he'd used my real name. "I don't care," I said fiercely, not letting any tremor of what I was feeling creep into my voice. "I've had enough of whatever the fuck you're doing!"

"This evil man raised whole cemeteries, killed women and children, in his quest for power," Jean-Claude continued, as if I hadn't said a word. "And do you know how he did it?"

Jean-Claude waited for my answer. I didn't have any clue what he was talking about, and the dark was pressing in on me, so I pressed my lips together to keep from screaming.

"Bokor Majeur, ma petite," Jean-Claude said mockingly. A chill ran though my body as I stared at him. I hadn't mentioned that to anyone, besides John Burke, and God knew he wasn't going to mention it. How did Jean-Claude know what I'd been doing?

Jean-Claude stared at me for a long time, as still as death. The air around us seemed to move with the darkness, and I fought not to shrink back.

"Finally, the vampires of Haiti sent for help," Jean-Claude said, still mocking. He moved jerkily toward me, as if he were a marionette with broken strings. "The Council sent an army to Haiti, to stop the voodoo priest. They couldn't kill him, so do you know what they did?"

By this time, he had gotten so close to me that I could smell his aftershave, overlying the faint scent of blood on his breath. I swallowed hard. "No," I ground out.

The expression bled off his face, until he looked all the world like a corpse. "They locked him up, in a room like this one." Jean-Claude spread his hands to the ceiling. "No food, no water, but the Bokor Majeur made sure that he could not die. They say that on clear nights, you can still hear him screaming."

I shoved Jean-Claude away from me, hard. His chest felt like stone under my hands, and he stumbled as he went back, but he kept on his feet. "What the fuck is this?" I demanded. "Give me the key and let me out of here!"

"Why?" he asked. "I thought you would be interested in what the Council does to those who deal in Bokor Majeur. After all, that now includes you."

I stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking--"

"Do not lie to me!" Jean-Claude shouted, voice echoing off the stones and driving into my chest. I curled over myself, gasping under the weight of his rage. "Do not stand there and lie to me about this!"

On the heels of his rage came a sorrow and pain so great, it stole my breath away. Shaking, I sank to my knees.

In an instant, Jean-Claude was in front of me, not touching. "I am sorry, ma petite," he murmured. He reached his hands out to me, but I jerked back at his touch. He didn't try again. "I did not mean for you to feel that."

"Then what the hell were you doing?" I demanded. My voice broke, but I didn't care.

"Do you not understand what they will do to you? To all of us?" Jean-Claude asked. "If the Council finds you have been dabbling with Bokor Majeur, not a thing in this world, nothing I can do, will save you. If there is anything left for you to save."

"I'm not--"

"Not what?" Jean-Claude interrupted. "Not seeking out this insane power? Or do you simply not understand?"

"I know what I'm doing!" I protested. "I'm not in any danger!"

"Not in any danger," Jean-Claude repeated faintly. "Ma petite, a lot of what you do is not evil, it's just power. But this..." He sat back on the stone floor, mindless of his clothes. "Bokor Majeur is nothing but evil, Anita. What could you hope to gain, to risk us all like this?"

"I haven't done anything like that," I sad, scrambling to my feet. "No one's at risk of anything!" I held out my hand again. "Give me the key and let me out of here."

Jean-Claude didn't move for the longest time, then he pulled the key out of his pocket and hurled it at the door. It hit the wood with a thunk.

All I wanted to do was get out of this room and away from Jean-Claude, but as I reached the door and groped around for the key, I felt the beginnings something I didn't like very much, growing in my chest.

Guilt.

The key, heavy and cold in my hand, helped me come to a decision. Knowing I could walk out of here at any time made the panic ease a little.

I retraced my steps. Jean-Claude hadn't moved. I sat cross-legged on the stone floor behind Jean-Claude. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. "You scared me."

"And you are scaring me, ma petite." Jean-Claude had walled up the marks between us tight, but I could hear the emotion in his voice. "What have you been doing? What has driven you to something like this?"

I ran my fingers over the key, feeling the intricate designs. "I'm just trying to find out ways to protect everyone," I said.

Jean-Claude let out a sigh. "You cannot fight evil with evil, ma petite. Of all people, you are the one I thought would never make this mistake."

"I'm not doing that," I said.

"Then what are you doing?" Jean-Claude turned around slightly, so his profile was cast into shadows by the flickering candle. "Never before have you sought out more power, when danger arose. It has always been a gun, or a knife. Never anything like this."

I laid the key on the ground. "I'm only trying to find out more about Bokor Majeur. It's not like I'm going to raise it or anything."

"Why now?" Jean-Claude asked. "Why, after all we have been through, do you seek this power now? Is it because of Olaf?" He shifted around to face me. "Or is it because of something else?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest. I really didn't want to talk about this, but I couldn't find the words to ask him to stop.

Slowly, as if he was afraid I might push him away, Jean-Claude took my hands in his, and pressed them over his heart. I could feel the slow, sluggish pounding in his chest beneath my fingers.

"Gaining power like this will not make what Bellatrix did to you go away."

Jean-Claude's shirt trembled against my fingertips, and it took me a minute to realize that I was shaking. "I'm not doing that," I whispered.

Jean-Claude drew me into his arms, and I let him. Here, in the silent dark, the thoughts that had been lurking, hidden, in my head for the last couple of weeks, came back to me.

"She cannot hurt you anymore," Jean-Claude whispered, rocking me in his arms.

"What about the next time?" I had to ask. "What about the next witch who comes after us?"

Jean-Claude pressed his lips against my hair. "This is not the answer, and you know it." His hand smoothed my hair back from my cheek, and I realized I'd been crying.

"But if I can't stop them, we all might die." The thought of causing Nathaniel's death, or Jean-Claude's death, hurt so much that my breath caught in my throat.

"Ma petite, you are the strongest person I know," Jean-Claude told me. "We will find a way, that does not involve you going down this path."

From Jean-Claude's arms, I watched the candle burning steadily. "You didn't have to bring me down here just to scare me," I said, faintly accusatory as I sat up.

He looked away, brushing at some dirt on his pant leg. "It was not my intention to scare you, ma petite, but I needed privacy to speak with you about this."

"Why?"

"Because of the nature of the conversation." He stared off into the darkness, as if he could see something hidden. "If any of my vampires had heard even a mention of Bokor Majeur, you would have been in great danger."

"But they didn't, so I'm fine, right?"

"You may be." Jean-Claude looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "If you stop now."

I looked back at him, not saying anything. He closed his eyes.

"You're not going to stop, are you?"

I sprang to my feet. "All I'm doing is finding out about it, not actually doing anything with it!"

"And so that makes it all right?" Jean-Claude asked heatedly. "After all I have told you, you will continue on this path?"

"It's information--"

"It's temptation!" Jean-Claude crawled over to the candle and picked it up. "You are the one person, ma petite, who I thought would never fall prey to the temptation of evil like this!"

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, I'm just trying to find out about..." I let my voice trail off. I didn't have any idea what I was going to do.

Jean-Claude pulled himself to his feet and came over to me. Laying one hand on my shoulder, he said, "Ma petite, I have seldom asked you for anything, you know that. I am going to ask one thing of you, only this."

"What?" I asked, even though I think I knew what he wanted.

"I need you to stop in your pursuit of Bokor Majeur. Let it be in our past. We will find other ways to protect ourselves and our people."

I swallowed hard. He was right, he never asked me for anything, not unless it was really important. In his place, I'd have demanded that he do the same thing as he was asking of me. As much as I hated it, I didn't have a choice, not really.

"Okay," I said, almost inaudibly.

Relief flowed across his face. "Merci, ma petite. Merci." He kissed my forehead, then started across the floor.

I didn't move. "Jean-Claude?"

"Oui, ma petite?"

I twisted my fingers together. "I, um... I already know a lot about Bokor Majeur."

He turned back to me. "How much?"

"A lot?"

He sighed as he set the candle down. "Ma petite, you have the most amazing talent of complicating our lives," he said, wrapping me in his arms.

"Tell me about it." The fabric of his shirt was rough against my cheek. "But it's only information. Nothing evil."

"I believe you," he whispered.

After another kiss, Jean-Claude pulled me along with him to the door. Halfway there, I realized that I'd left the key on the ground, and pulled out of his grasp to go back for it. Lifting the weight in my hand, I glanced up into the blackness above us.

"You do not like the dark," Jean-Claude said. It wasn't really a question.

"There's too much of it," I said. "There's no lighting down this far?"

"Non. Nikolaos preferred these rooms to be dark, lit only by her pleasure." Jean-Claude held out the candle. "Candles and torches were the only light sources allowed down here."

"Charming. You should really get someone to put flashlights down here or something."

"Perhaps Asher can attend to it while I am away."

I stopped. "Away? Where are you going?"

Jean-Claude shrugged that lovely Gaelic shrug of his, which told me nothing. "I am going to England with you, ma petite."

"Since when?" I demanded. "I thought you were negotiating so you didn't have to leave? What changed?"

"Christoff gave me his final demand, for your safety, and the continued safety of Monsieur Potter," Jean-Claude said.

"Was that demand for you to go?"

"Non."

"Then why are you going? What did he ask for?"

Jean-Claude smoothed the sleeve of his shirt, paying close attention to his cufflink. "He asked for something that I will not ask you to do."

A growing unease settled in my stomach. "Sex or torture?"

"What?" Jean-Claude asked, startled enough to look up.

"Sex or torture?" I said again. "It's got to be something real squicky, or you'd at least have told me about it before you decided that you were coming with us."

"It is neither, ma petite," Jean-Claude reassured me. "He started negotiations by asking for Jason as a slave--"

"What??"

"-- but when I refused vehemently," Jean-Claude continued over my protest, "he asked for your blood."

On the heels of what I had first thought, a bit of blood didn't seem too bad. Unless.... "How much blood?"

"Three mouthfuls," Jean-Claude said, eyeing me for the reaction he wasn't getting. "From your neck, he was very specific about that. If he receives that, he will not only guarantee your safe passage to London for the next ten years, but Harry will be safe from Christoff's vampires for the same amount of time."

"Ten years for a bit of blood?" I asked. It seemed too easy. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is you need to let him suck the blood from your neck," Jean-Claude said. "He desires a taste of your blood, and that it will indicate a truce on our parts."

"I thought he hated your guts," I said, still confused. There was a missing piece here, but what?

"Oh, he does." Jean-Claude shook his head. "But you have a reputation, ma petite, as a power. I am a Sourde De Sang, which Christoff is not. By this gesture, it will show all vampires that I consider him as a peer. He may hate me, ma petite, but he craves power. He will set aside his feelings on a personal matter, for this display."

I wanted to ask what the personal matter between them was, but frankly, I really didn't want to know. "Why didn't you tell me this before deciding?"

Jean-Claude took my arm and guided me to the door. I grabbed the candle as we passed. "Because I could not imagine a way that you would agree to it, not after what happened with the witch," he explained as he unlocked the door.

"Yeah, well, you know I've gotten a lot more practical in the last year," I told him as we walked down the hall.

"I know, but this..."

"Hey." I squeezed his arm. "If this protects Harry for ten years, I'd consider it. Is there anything you will gain?"

Jean-Claude was quiet for so long I knew there was something. "If you do this, ma petite, I will gain an ally in Europe," he finally said. "If it comes down to it, Christoff will be bound to consider my interests in anything he does."

I groaned. "Why didn't you say so?"

"Because I did not want you doing this because you felt it an obligation," Jean-Claude said. "You would do it, but always you would wonder if you had been forced into it by me."

I stopped and made Jean-Claude face me. "Loving you is not an obligation," I said softly as I cupped his cheek in my hand. "We're in this together, remember? You and me, not just you."

Jean-Claude kissed my palm, then lowered my hand from his face. "I should know by now that I cannot anticipate your reactions, ma petite," he said.

I went up on tip-toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. "That's right. Besides, you have to stay here and protect everyone here."

Jean-Claude let out a breath. "If this is what you wish, ma petite, then I will conclude negotiations with Christoff."

"It is, I guess."

"If you have any hesitations..."

"No, nothing like that," I promised him. "It's just... a lot's happened in the last hour." I frowned. "And I think I'm still a bit pissed off at you about scaring me."

"Then I will give you a day, ma petite, to think about this, before I contact Christoff," Jean-Claude said. "Come. You should have some dinner while you think on this matter."

The way he said it, so blandly, made me suspicious. "What's for dinner?"

"Oh, many summer foods," he said, voice blank. "A delightful salad, followed by a perfect steak, medium rare, with fresh blackberries for dessert."

In spite of all that had just happened, I had to smile. "Blackberries, huh?"

"Oui, I seem to recall that they are your favourite..."

"You mean they're your favourite," I retorted. "You and your food fetish."

"My humblest apologies."

I smiled at him, but it didn't do much to lighten my tumbling thoughts. Would I be able to let Christoff munch on my neck, even to keep Harry safe and to give Jean-Claude a much-needed advantage? I needed to figure that out, and soon.

Behind all that, what I'd learned of Bokor Majeur in the last week floated on the edge of my consciousness. I'd promised Jean-Claude that I wouldn't continue... but I really didn't think it mattered.

I already knew enough.

...tbc

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

thekams.livejournal.com

Wicked chapter!!

I loved the interaction between Harry and Damian, and the fact that Damian wants Harry to be kept safe. The Bokor Majeur must be some pretty awful evil if it scares the vampires that badly. Also, JC and his blackberries =P He really is going to make Anita fat if he keeps eating the way he is, lol.

I can't wait for the next chapter, and the full moon!!
_{Hope you had a good Christmas!}

From:

mhalachai was here

FIC: Inevitable 40: Darkness Inside

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