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seren_ccdTitle: Bloodless and Blind
Fandom: Teeth, Claws and Guinness
Ship: Various original pairings
Word Count: 6,951
Rating: PG-13, there is some violence, language, needles and blood in this one!
Disclaimer: They are, well, actually, these guys are mine. All of them. I did borrow a set of characters from Terry Pratchett. However, if you ask them, they’ll say they were their own to begin with and he borrowed them. Either way, no infringement meant! Also the title comes from Tired of Being Sorry by Enrique Igliesias. Yeah, I know, shut up.
A/N: I started this on Friday and it wouldn't let me go! I'm posting this un-betaed, so if there are any mistakes, they are totally mine. I hope you enjoy the latest installment! Oh, and the story Hannah tells about the sheep and crow is totally true! I saw them myself one day.
Summary: Strange things are happening in Cwm Alaw. Strange and dangerous things that will affect everyone.
“Well, as Dr. Carson said, you’re really very healthy,” Dr. Yanmei Kelly said looking at what Evan surmised was his medical chart. The slim haematologist looked up at him and a delighted smile appeared on her face. “I have to say, I’m really pleased you came by. You’re my first werewolf!”
Evan blinked and then smiled. “Dr. Carson spoke very highly of you and explained a little about what you do and I thought, well, it couldn’t hurt. It, ah, won’t hurt, will it?”
“Just a little sting,” Dr. Kelly reassured him. She set his records down on the counter and moved to get the vacuum tube and needle ready.
Evan shifted in his seat and looked around the room. For private clinic that primarily dealt with blood analysis, it was surprisingly cheerful and cozy. Dr. Kelly had several flowers and plants dotted about the room, one large ficus whose top was brushing the ceiling sat in the corner, while a pretty blue and white pot with fish painted on the side housed a bright pink geranium soaked up the sun from its spot on the windowsill. The clinic was located right next to the village pharmacy.
“How long have you lived here?” Evan asked.
“Oh, feels like forever,” Dr. Kelly said opening a drawer. “But, only a couple of years. I was working in London, but they weren’t too keen on my theories. One day I read an article by Paul - Dr. Carson the first, that is - and it was about the possibility of supernatural beings and what we could learn from them. Next thing I knew, I was on a train headed towards Wales. I got off, caught the bus and here I am. Haven’t looked back since!”
Her smile was still in place as she turned with a vial attached to a needle. “Now, I don’t need much. Just a little to get me started.”
“What are you hoping to find?” Evan asked as she swabbed a section on the inside of his arm near his elbow.
“Who knows!” she said. “Something that’s not in other people’s blood? A trace of something foreign? I have found some anomalies in other people in the village. Mr. Owens actually has traces of something uniquely avian. And every time Davis comes in, I find something new. Although, that may be a result of his, um, diet. As it were.”
Dr. Kelly sat on a small stool and wheeled over to Evan’s side. She moved Evan’s arm to rest on the arm of the chair and instructed him to make a fist. Her head nodded in time to some internal clock, then she tapped his hand to make him unclench. Dr. Kelly then went about drawing the blood. Evan looked away.
“You know Davis?” he asked focusing on the light hitting the petals of the geranium and not the fact that his blood was flowing steadily out of his body into a bloody tube. And wasn’t that a hateful pun?
“Oh, yes,” Dr. Kelly said pressing a cotton ball to the tiny puncture in his arm. “I supply him with his blood.”
“I’m sorry?” Evan said looking over at her. “You what?”
“Well, he’s not a practicing vampire. He doesn’t exactly hunt anymore. I have connections and can order bags of blood from him from reliable suppliers. I think the butcher’s helps out every now and then, too, but he gets most of his sustenance from the room in the back,” she said. She pulled the vial away and snapped the cap on it. “Here, put pressure on this.”
Evan pressed on the cotton ball while Dr. Kelly rolled away on her little stool. Once she got to the counter, she stood up and made a note on the chart and the tube.
“Okay! All done!” she said turning with another one of her bright smiles. “Do you want Bob the Builder, Hello Kitty or plain?”
She held up three boxes of plasters.
Evan chuckled. “Plain, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“No problem.” She came back over and affixed the plaster to his arm. “There you go! I’ll be sure to let you know if I find anything interesting.”
“Thanks, I think,” he said. Evan got to his feet and gave her a nod. He’d reached the door when she asked him one final question.
“I heard around the village that we’ve got pictsies now,” she said, her eyes wide and shining. “I don’t suppose they’d let me have a sample?” She held up Evan’s vial and waved it back and forth.
Evan winced. “To be honest, I doubt it, but ask Elinor. They seem to follow her orders. Sort of.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, Mr. Michaels.”
“It’s Evan. Please,” he said returning her smile.
Dr. Kelly gave him a tiny salute, another cheerfully lopsided smile and Evan left.
The rest of Evan’s day passed in a slow fashion. It was late October and Halloween was just around the corner, as evidenced by the large pumpkins being sold by the greengrocers and the preponderance of fake spiderwebs tacked up in shop windows. Evan stepped out of the fishmonger’s shop after a long afternoon of bookkeeping for Mr. Owen (‘Christ, lad. Enough of the Mr. Owen crap. You’re a friend of Hannah’s. It’s Stev. Feel up for your first fishing lesson next weekend?’) and breathed in the early evening air.
Someone had lit their coal fire and the sooty smell filled his nostrils along with the sharp scent of a chilly night settling in. The sun was setting in between the houses and a dull orange light outlined the shadows. Living in the city he’d forgotten how crisp air could be, how there was a kind of freedom in leaving your jacket open so that the breeze tripped along your thin shirt and teased the bare skin of your neck.
Evan wandered easily down the street watching the villagers close up their shops and set about making dinner and calling the kids in to do their homework.
He had a sudden pang in his chest that he identified as missing his brother. Evan hadn’t actually seen Ian in years and if he’d appeared on the street in front of him, he’d have no idea what to say to the man. However, Evan remembered how they’d run and run up and down the streets of their home city until their lungs ached and their legs felt like jelly, shouting good-natured abuse at each other. Ian had stayed in Ireland while Evan had been the one to leave after their parents died. Last he’d heard, Ian had finally married Sally McKinnell and was a foreman at the local factory.
Evan wondered what he’d think of his little brother being a werewolf. He also wondered if Ian would think that Evan leaving his high-paying job at a highly lucrative Manchester firm to live in a village not displayed on any map was actually the bigger of the two sins.
Shaking the gloomy thoughts from his head, Evan zipped up his jacket and headed towards the Sheep and Crow, hoping someone had put a stew on or at least had the makings for a sandwich.
As he opened the front door to the pub, a wave of warmth washed over him. He knew it was mostly because of the roaring fire Bryn had set earlier in the day, but it was also from the energy the pub itself seemed to emit. Evan waved at Bryn who was seated with a few of his mates. Bryn raised a hand in welcome and grinned.
“Who do you favour tonight, Evan me lad?” Bryn asked.
“Well, considering who pulls my pint, I’d best say Liverpool,” Evan said taking his jacket off.
“Ah, you’re learning quick,” Bryn said tapping the side of his nose. “She’s in a good mood tonight though, so say what you truly feel in your heart of hearts.”
“In that case, I’m afraid I’ve got to say Portadown, boys,” Evan said with a grin.
The entire table groaned.
“You can take the man out of Ireland,” Bryn said sadly as the other men shook their heads.
“Sorry, gents. The Emerald Isle still holds her sway over a great deal of me heart.” Evan gave them a wave and headed towards the bar where Hannah stood with a smirk on her face.
“You are such a lad,” she said as he approached. “I don’t know why I ever thought differently.”
He grinned. “Never would try to persuade you otherwise. But since you don’t have Sky, I’m afraid I’ll have to make do with your Premier boys.”
Her hair was down tonight and fell in soft waves of red and glints of gold sparked when the light from the fire cast itself on the strands. She flipped it off her shoulder as she returned his grin and said, “So, what’s occurin’?”
“I’d be in your debt forever if you tell me you’ve got something edible behind that bar of yours,” he said.
“You’re already in my debt forever,” she retorted. “But, I’m in a gracious mood, so if you think you can manage some of Uncle Bryn’s bean and rice gunge.”
“Hey, now!” Bryn called out. “It’s not gunge, I’ll thank you kindly, niece o’mine. It’s a delightful concoction of my own making whose consistency is a wondrous balance between stew and chilli.”
“In other words, ‘gunge’,” Hannah called back. She switched her gaze back to Evan. “Care to live dangerously?”
“Bring it on, barkeep,” he said. “And a pint of grog, if you please.”
“Of course, good sir,” she said with a wink and lovely twist of her body she headed towards the back room. Evan took a seat on a stool and dropped his jacket and satchel on the stool beside him. He pulled out a copy of the Financial Times and skipped to the market section. Hannah returned with a bowl of something that did indeed look like it hovered right on the line between chilli and stew. But, it smelled delicious and Evan was hungry so he dug right in.
Hannah moved about behind the bar with a grace that did things to Evan’s senses. He was two weeks away from his last transformation and two weeks before his next, but he’d noticed that no matter the distance between him and the full moon, the wolf inside of him paid attention to everything. Just an odd smell or a sharp noise and the wolf was poised for action. In the case of Hannah, the light touch of her hand or a flash of her smile or the glance of her brown eyes in his direction would make the wolf feel restless. It made Evan feel restless, too.
But, until she gave him the slightest hint of encouragement, he was holding still.
That, of course didn’t mean he couldn’t watch her. She hadn’t been too far off in calling him a lad, so he did his best to cast surreptitious glances at her as she went about her usual tasks.
After he finished his supper and took his plate to the washroom (a plate which he washed and dried along with some extra bits of cutlery), he returned to his paper and the pint of Guinness Hannah had pulled for him earlier. Hannah was busy at the other end listening to the elderly Misses Cowlin explain an extremely convoluted tale involving a spider and a quilt.
“So, did you see Yanmei this morning?” Hannah asked after the ladies had gone to find their own table.
“Yes, I did,” Evan said folding up the paper. “She’s now got a vial of my blood, for what it’s worth. No idea what she’s hoping to find.”
“Well, after what happened to her brother, I imagine she’d be happy with anything,” Hannah said.
“What happened to her brother?” Evan asked frowning.
Hannah furrowed her brow. “She didn’t tell you?”
Evan shook his head and she bit her lip. “It’s not really my story to tell.” She sighed and then said, “I suppose I can tell you that her brother died when he was very young, six or seven. He was diagnosed with severe lymphocytopenia. At least that’s what the doctors said, but supposedly the disease didn’t follow the usual patterns. One night, he just died quietly in his bed. Yanmei always believed it was something supernatural that killed her brother and if it had been properly identified, she was positive there could have been some kind of treatment.”
“Hence the collecting of blood samples from supernatural beings,” Evan said slowly. “I knew she was trying to build a database of sorts. I didn’t bother to ask why.”
“The database is her ultimate goal, but I also think she’s looking for other answers, too,” Hannah said. A worried expression came over her face. “I wonder if she’ll ever find anything.”
Evan idly drummed his fingers on the bar in thought. A flick of delicate white fingers against his drumming ones made him stop and look up. Hannah grinned. Evan mock-glared and flicked her wrist. She gasped and flicked him directly on his forehead. Evan couldn’t help it and laughed out loud.
“You are such a pest,” he said.
“Look who’s talking, you bad puppy,” Hannah said crossing her arms over her chest. Evan choked on his own laughter at being called a ‘puppy’. Hannah waited for him to recover before saying. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”
“Who?” he asked.
“Yanmei,” Hannah said impatiently. “Honestly, Evan, keep up.”
“Uh, yes, I suppose she’s pretty.” Evan thought back to his appointment with the haematologist. She had been pretty. Tall and oddly quirky, with kind, dark eyes and a pleasant voice. Definitely pretty. Evan shrugged. “I don’t know, though. Not really my type.”
“You have a type?” Hannah asked looking amused.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She switched from looking amused to looking thoughtful quickly. Evan remembered the section in her family journal describing the man she met in Vietnam and he started to feel a whole new kind of restless.
“Besides,” he said quickly. “I tend to like a girl with, I don’t know, some fire to her.”
Hannah gave him a look and he was pleased to see amusement come flooding back in. “Fire?”
Evan nodded and desperately hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck, reached up and tucked a lock of her truly fiery red hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed the shell of her ear and he could see her shiver. He dropped his hand to the bar.
Hannah swallowed hard and then asked, “Evan Michaels, was that a come on?”
“It may well have been an attempt at one, yeah,” he said, the wolf inside him starting to pace and whine.
“Well, I’ve got to go and serve Mr. and Mrs. Glinter,” she said and Evan registered a couple a few seats down staring at them. “So, while I’m doing that, you try and come up with another line. One decidedly less predictable and that has nothing to do with my hair. Okay?”
“I’ll give it my best effort,” he said seriously. Hannah nodded and left him to his thoughts.
Which tumbled over themselves and he took a long drink of his pint trying to sort them all out.
“Hey, Evan! Thought you might be here!”
Evan turned to see Harry Porter headed his way.
“Evenin’ Harry. How’s life treating you?” Evan said in greeting shaking the other man’s hand.
“Can’t complain too much,” Harry said taking the seat next to Evan and waving at Hannah. “Had a bit of a proposal for you though.”
“Well, this is rather sudden, mate,” Evan said giving him a sideways glance. “You haven’t even taken me for dinner yet.”
“I am known as a fast worker,” Harry said good-naturedly. “But, I was actually referring to tonight. You feel like helping me move old Mrs. Pedlar’s furniture out of her house to her sister’s?”
“What’s wrong with her house?” Evan asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” Harry said taking a pint of Stella from Hannah with a nod. “Every few months or so, she gets the notion that her husband is starting to, ah, shall we say, stray? So she decides to teach him a lesson while he’s out on his annual fishing trip with his brother. Which means everything gets moved out of the house and into her sister’s garage. Mr. Pedlar comes back, sees his empty house, hurries over to Mrs. Pedlar, throws himself at her feet and she takes him back.”
“Is Mr. Pedlar straying?” Evan asked.
“Of course not,” Harry said after downing half his pint in one go. “He once told me that this whole kerfuffle brings a little bit of spice and excitement to their marriage and if he has to prostrate himself to ensure at least three months of peace, he’s more than happy to do so.”
“Crikey,” Evan said shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Did I mention she pays well?”
Evan looked over at him and asked, “How much?”
“Fifty quid each plus she throws in a slice of her lemon drizzle cake, which is payment in and of itself.”
Evan drained the last of his Guinness. “I’m in.”
“Brilliant!” Harry finished his Stella. “We’re off to the Pedlar’s, Hannah!”
“Oh, is it that time of year again?” Hannah asked carrying in a tray of clean pint glasses. “Give my love and commiserations to Mrs. Pedlar.”
Harry grinned while Evan said, “But, I thought Mr. Pedlar wasn’t actually doing anything wrong?”
“Oh, he’s not,” Hannah said. “But, that doesn’t mean a lady doesn’t like to know the neighbours are on her side regardless. You boys have fun!”
Evan and Harry headed out, but just as they reached the door, Hannah called out, “Oh and Evan? I’m still waiting for that next attempt.”
He gave her a look that swept over her body and grinned. “Patience is a virtue, Miz MacNeil.” Evan gave her a wink and then walked out the door.
Yanmei sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck. She sat up slowly and stretched her arms up and decided to call it a night; there wasn’t much more she could do tonight.
She stood up and turned off the light on her microscope and made a final notation on her notes. Then she left her lab, turning off the lights as she went. She had just entered the front room of the clinic when someone spoke.
“Evening, Yanmei.”
She shrieked a little and her hand flew to her chest. “Goodness gracious, Davis! Don’t do that!”
Davis smiled at her from the doorway and laughed gently. “I am sorry. I should have made some noise.”
“Honestly,” she said smiling at him and shaking her head. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. And you?” he asked as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Isn’t past working hours?”
“Oh, you know me,” she said walking up to him. “I’m hardly one to stick to conventional hours.”
“Yes, you are wonderfully unpredictable,” he said, his fond look belying the statement.
“Yes, well,” Yanmei said feeling a blush start in her cheeks. “What can I do for you? I don’t suppose this is a social visit?”
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Davis said as he frowned. “I’ve gone and done something rather stupid, Yanmei, you see I’ve run out of blood. I’ve been so preoccupied with my latest novel and neglected to keep track of my supply at home. Do you think you could...”
“Of course,” Yanmei said putting her hand on his arm. “As if you needed to ask.”
Something flashed in Davis’ eyes as he looked down at her hand. Everything he’d ever told her about his condition down to the fierce hunger that could spring up out of nowhere flooded her mind. Hoping it looked casual and not frightened Yanmei removed her hand and turned away.
“I’ve got the keys on me,” she said. “Just follow me.”
As they walked through the clinic, Yanmei was terribly aware of how silent Davis was. Normally, he’d be asking her questions, drawing her out, being friendly. She’d always loved their conversations and he’d given her no end of helpful advice and tips in regards to his research.
But, now he wasn’t saying anything at all; which made her wonder if he was focused on something else. Something like control.
They reached the back pantry and Yanmei gave a sigh of relief as did Davis. She met his eyes and gave him a comforting smile. He made to return it, but stopped. His eyes narrowed on the pantry door and his expression turned dark.
“What is it?” she asked a chill speeding down her spine.
“They aren’t in there,” Davis said through clenched teeth. “The bags. I can’t smell them.”
“What? No! Of course, they’re there!” Yanmei quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. She flicked on the light and gasped.
The shelves where the bags of blood and plasma should have been stacked neatly were empty. Not a single bag had been left.
“I don’t understand!” Yanmei said rushing into the room and checking the other shelves. “They were here this morning! I checked. I’m the only one with a key. Oh my God, Davis, I don’t understand!”
She turned to face Davis who was holding himself unnaturally still, his eyes pale and his hands clenched into fists.
“Maybe the butcher’s is still open,” she whispered.
“Perhaps.” This was said in a low, quiet tone as he stared at the empty shelves. He came back into himself and met her eyes. “I will go and check.”
“Davis, I am so sorry,” she said biting her lip. “I have no idea how this happened, but I’ll find out.”
The vampire nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure there is an explanation. It’s possible someone thought they might try out a practical joke.”
“This isn’t very funny,” Yanmei said, her stomach tying itself into knots.
“No, no it is not.” Once again, he looked lost in thought and then once again, he shook himself out of it. He gave her another smile. “It will be fine. I’m sure the butchers will have something and I can always drive into Bangor to the hospital there.”
He stepped close to Yanmei and she sucked in a breath at how very pale he was. “It will be fine, Yanmei. I promise.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but he had already gone, walking silently and swiftly down the hall. Yanmei let out a ragged breath and stared at the empty shelves.
Davis walked down the streets of the village in the direction of the butchers.
Someone had deliberately taken his blood. If only he hadn’t been so distracted lately, but he’d already drunk his back-up supply the day before, secure in the knowledge that he could easily obtain more.
His strides lengthened into a brisk walk.
The hunger inside him was potent and angry. While he could go without feeding and had done so under certain circumstances, it had already been too long since his last meal. He needed blood.
The butchers shop was nearby and he calmed himself long enough to knock on the back door. The knock went unanswered. He tried again. Nothing.
The window of the building next door opened and the butcher’s neighbour poked his head out. “He’s not in! Had to go off to Swansea to see his cousin! Said he’d be back day after tomorrow. Is it an emergency?”
Davis swallowed an epithet and said kindly, “Oh, no. No emergency. I merely forgot to pick something up. I’ll try later. Thank you.”
“No worries!” The window closed.
No worries, indeed, Davis thought. The hunger stabbed at him, blurring his vision. He blinked and checked his pocketwatch.
Eleven pm.
Last call at the pub.
Perhaps...
Hannah all but shoved Uncle Bryn out the back door, his mates having scattered in different directions into the night.
“Now, Hannah, my flower,” Bryn said. “I do like that young buck of yours. Good head on his shoulders. You will be holding onto him, won’t you?”
“We’ll have to see, uncle,” Hannah said giving him a kiss on his weathered cheek. “I kind of like him myself. Now, walk safely. Good night!”
“Hmm, good night, love.” Bryn tweaked her nose and made his way to his flat in the building next door.
Hannah sighed affectionately and closed the door, throwing the bolt into place. She loaded a rack of glasses into the dishwasher and then switched it on. Grabbing a dishcloth, she headed into the pub and gasped loudly.
Davis stood in the middle of the empty room, the light of the fire throwing harsh shadows across his paler than usual face. His eyes were the palest blue she’d ever seen.
“Hi,” she said unsteadily. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
A strange smile appeared on his face. “That seems to be the theme for the evening.”
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked walking into the room, dropping the cloth onto a table.
“No, no, I’m afraid that I’m quite far from okay,” he said, his eyes capturing hers. “I do hope you can help me, Hannah.”
“So do I,” she said hesitantly. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is and we’ll--”
“I’m hungry.”
“What?” Hannah felt her heart thudding and became very, very aware of exactly what Davis was and how alone she was at that very moment.
“I’m hungry, Hannah,” Davis said slowly and clearly. “Someone has stolen all the blood from Yanmei’s clinic and the butcher isn’t available.” He paused and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing. “I am hoping you might have some spare bags.”
“I’ll have to check,” Hannah said wanting to turn away but feeling any movement might be unwise. She didn’t want to startle him into action. “I know Aunt Gwendi kept some for you at one point.”
The strange smile reappeared on his face. “I always liked your aunt. Such a lovely woman. She always smelled of the sea. Unlike you.” His eyes opened and she felt pinned by their power. “You always smell like the forest.”
“It’s probably my detergent,” she said far more flippantly than she felt. “It’s supposed to be pine-scented.”
He didn’t reply, just continued to stare at her. His expression became pained and Hannah said quickly, “Just stay here. I’m sure there’s something I can find to help.”
The pained expression on his face reached the point of agony. “It may be too late,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh, Hannah. I shouldn’t have come here. I am sorry. I left it too long.”
The black of his pupils enlarged and took over the pale blue of his iris. Hannah’s own eyes widened and she held up a hand and said, “Wait!”
“I can’t,” he whispered and the firelight glinted off his elongated incisors.
Then he lunged.
Hannah darted to the side, putting a small table between them. Davis hissed in disappointment and reached for her over the table. She shoved the table into his mid-section and he grunted from the impact. Whirling around, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which was a and empty bottle of red, and heaved it with all her might at his head. It broke on contact and Davis made a pitiful sound. Hannah ran towards the door, but he was too fast, even with pieces of glass in his hair.
His arms grabbed her waist and she let out a yell as he pulled her away from the door and flung her towards another table. Her side hit the edge of the table and she cried out, her hands scrabbling on the table top for any type of weapon. She grabbed a pint glass and threw at Davis who was approaching. His hand brushed the glass aside in mid-air and a steady litany of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” poured from his mouth.
“Don’t do this!” Hannah shouted grabbing another pint glass and bringing it over his head as he neared her. He barely flinched as the glass shattered and he grabbed her hand, pinning it to her side. Her other hand came up to grasp at his other hand that was headed towards her throat. Davis leaned in and she started to bend backwards over the table, her feet beginning to lose their grip on the floor. Tiny shards of glass dropped from his hair to land on her face.
Hannah struggled in his grip and she just managed to get out a small, “Don’t! Davis, please!”
Tears fell from his sad eyes as his mouth opened, his lips peeling back to reveal his sharp teeth.
Harry was right.
Mrs. Pedlar’s lemon drizzle cake was worth the hassle of moving a sofa, five chairs, and two armchairs, not mention all the books and the television.
Evan turned up his collar to the chill breeze sweeping through the streets of the village on his way back to the pub. It was past last call, but he knew Hannah would be around for a little while at least.
He had a line for her and he had to stifle a chuckle at the thought of it.
When he was only three doors away his stupidly sensitive ears picked up the sound of glass breaking in the pub. Evan frowned and slowed down to listen carefully. He heard the sound of something breaking again, this time followed by Hannah’s voice raised in a yell.
Evan took off in a dead run, hunching slightly to get the best traction and momentum as he sped towards the pub and Hannah.
He burst into the front door and snarled at the sight in front of him.
Davis had Hannah bent over backwards on a table in the middle of the room, with his fangs out while Hannah struggled beneath. Davis moved his head to glare at the interruption and bared his teeth.
A low growl made its way up from Evan’s diaphragm to emerge from his throat. His hands curled into his palms and his vision sharpened.
Without a word, he threw himself at the vampire.
Hannah’s first thought at seeing Evan standing in the doorway to the Sheep and Crow was, “Oh, his eyes. They’re golden.” Her second thought was, “Oh, god. They’re going to kill each other.”
Then Evan slammed into Davis and his grip on Hannah was loosened and she fell to the floor as werewolf and vampire rolled away, already locked into the fight.
Hannah scrambled to her feet and ran to the storeroom. She could hear growls and whines and hisses along with fists hitting flesh and bodies hitting furniture as she ransacked the small room. She let out an actual sob of relief when she found what she was looking for.
She ran back into the main room and took stock of the two men. Evan had Davis pinned against the stone wall next to the fireplace. Davis looked angry and pale and resigned, while Evan just looked angry. His forearm was pressing to Davis’ windpipe and he was leaning heavily, his eyes hard and gold.
“Evan!” Hannah shouted. He merely turned his head a fraction and caught the bag she’d thrown with one hand. Instantly recognizing what it was, Evan shoved the blood bag into Davis’ face.
The vampire’s teeth sank into the bag immediately and his hands came up to hold the bag to his face as he drank. Evan recoiled in disgust and dropped his hands from their position on the other man’s body. He backed away and when Hannah reached his side, he took her hand and held it tightly. She squeezed his hand and pressed close against his back and handed him another blood bag.
Davis finished the first bag and his eyes had lost their feral blackness, the blue slowly returning. Blood dripped down his chin and Hannah fought to not feel revolted. She could tell Evan didn’t bother to fight it judging by the expression on his face. Davis lowered the bag and met her gaze, which he dropped as he looked away.
“I’m--” his voice caught. “I can’t even begin...to tell you...how sorry--”
“Sorry?” Evan’s harshly raised voice made Hannah jump. “You attacked her and you’re fuckin’ sorry?”
“Evan--” she said.
“No! No, Hannah!” he said turning his head towards her but keeping his eyes on Davis. “Tell me you’re going to report this or tell him to get lost or, or, or something!”
Hannah felt a little lost. She honestly wasn’t sure what she should do. “It wasn’t his fault,” she said quietly. “Someone stole his blood supply.”
“What?” Now, Evan looked at her. Then he looked back at Davis, who was trying to tidy himself up. “This was deliberate?”
“The theft of my blood certainly was,” Davis said. “Whether the ultimate intention was for me to attack someone, I cannot say.”
Evan looked between Davis and Hannah, his frustration and confusion apparent on his face. “Fuck. Fuck! That’s fucked up.”
Hannah let out a tense laugh in agreement, while Davis nodded. “It is as you say.” He met Hannah’s eyes briefly. “I must go. I will go into the mountains and then on to Bangor. I know someone there who can help me.”
“Davis, are you sure?” she asked.
“That you can ask me that is a testament to you, Hannah,” Davis said with a twist of his lips. “But, yes. I must. I am--sated, for now. I will need more.”
Evan threw the last bag at Davis who caught it easily. The two men stared at each other, Evan’s jaw tightening. Davis submitted first and looked away.
“I’m so very sorry, Hannah,” he said once again. Then he was gone.
With his departure, the air in the pub seemed to rush back in and Hannah felt all the adrenaline woosh out of her system. Her knees felt wobbly and she breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain some equilibrium.
“Are you honestly going to let it go?” she heard Evan ask.
“I’ll tell the people who need to know,” she said. “Ellie and Portia. Yanmei and maybe Stev and Grace. No need in creating a panic.”
“Still...”
“I know, I know,” she said. Then her knees gave out and she stumbled a little. Evan’s arms went around her body and he led her over to the only chair not turned over on its side. She sat down and closed her eyes.
“Christ, Hannah. Are you okay?” he asked kneeling on one knee in front of her, his hands warm on hers.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, keeping her eyes closed and focusing on her breathing. “It all just kind of hit me all of a sudden, you know?”
“Yeah, I do actually.” Hannah noticed that his hands had a slight tremor to them and she opened her eyes.
“Your eyes are back to normal,” she said absently.
He looked confused. “Did they change?”
Hannah nodded. “They were gold a few minutes ago. And your shoulders were all sort of hunched.” She smiled tiredly. “And your hair was all shaggy.” She lifted a hand and smoothed the hair above his ears. “It still is.”
“Well, that’s just me needing a haircut,” he said shakily obviously trying to process his own body’s changing on him.
She sighed and looked around her messy pub. “Well, that’s twice in one month I’m going to have to replace furniture.”
Evan winced. “I’ll help. The table over there was mostly my fault.”
“You bet your ass you’ll help,” she said feeling a little bit of her energy come back to her. “But in the morning. I want my bed.”
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
As they locked up the pub, it occurred to Hannah that if she asked, he would probably make love to her tonight if she asked him to. She could have this man in her bed, holding her and loving her. It would be good, too. The thought made her breath stutter and filled her with warmth. It also filled her with apprehension. She caught sight of his profile as they got into her car, Evan in the driver’s seat. He had looked like something out of the pages of a fairy tale earlier; part man and part beast. It had been all for her, she knew that.
As they drove through the dark and silent village she wondered how one man could make her feel safe and yet unsettled all at the same time?
“I still think something else needs to be done,” he said, his low voice cutting through the silence in the car. “The man did attack you, no matter if he was driven to it or not.”
Hannah thought for a moment, then she asked, “Did I ever tell you about how the Sheep and Crow got its name?”
Evan gave her a sideways look. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“My great grandfather or well, my great grandfather a few times removed I should say, was out one day walking the fields. The pub or something similar to it has always been where it is today, and it was once call the Red Dragon. A hold over from ages ago, they said.
“Anyway, great granddad was out in the fields and he saw this sheep grazing contentedly with a large black crow sitting right smack on his back, happy as a clam. Great granddad watched the pair for a bit. The crow looked pleased to have somewhere to rest its wings while the sheep looked satisfied with the extra company. Great granddad went back and changed the name of the pub that night.”
Hannah finished her story and gave Evan an expectant look. He had a half grin on his face as he said, “So essentially you’re saying that it’s very possible for two species to exist peacefully in a small area and we should make allowances and exercise some compassion from time to time?”
“Oh, no. I’m just sharing a bit of local history with you,” Hannah said looking out the window at the dark countryside as they drove down her small lane. “If you happen to derive some kind of moral message out of the tale, that’s your look-out.”
Evan chuckled.
The headlights illuminated Hannah’s house and she breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of her duvet. They exited the car and Hannah let them both inside. The darkness of the house felt familiar and Hannah dropped her keys into the purple glass bowl on the side table.
“I can head back to the pub tonight,” Evan said uncertainly.
“Don’t be silly,” Hannah said flipping the upstairs hallway light on. “You’re coming with me to Harry’s pick up some new chairs in the morning, so you may as well stay.”
“If you’re sure,” he said.
Hannah gave him a look. “I’m sure. Stay. The guest room is right where you left it.”
She turned and headed up the stairs, Evan following slowly. Hannah could feel his solid presence and her skin tingled and itched for contact. She arrived at her bedroom and turned to face him.
He stood a few feet away, just outside the door to the guest room. They stared at one another, Hannah’s blood thrumming in her veins and Evan’s hands deceptively loose at his side.
“Thank you,” Hannah said eventually. “For tonight. For helping me.”
“You’re welcome,” Evan said his eyes no longer gold, but shining with something that Hannah both ached and hesitated to discover.
“You ah, promised me a line,” she said, a corner of her mouth lifting. “I don’t suppose you thought of one.”
The hint of a grin appeared on his face. “I did actually. You sure you’re ready for it?”
“Bring it,” she said.
“In that case, trust me, I'm an accountant,” he said, his voice dropping down a register. “I know how to manipulate firm assets.”
Hannah stared and then burst out laughing. “That’s awful! Oh, my god, you’re terrible at this!”
Evan started to laugh and said, “There’s plenty more where that came from, I promise you.”
Wiping at her eyes, she said, “Well as long as there’s no mention of my arrears, we’ll be fine.”
“Oh, of course. I’d hate for us to get into that,” he said. “But, I may have to make some adjustments to your bottom line.”
Giggling, Hannah slumped against her door. “Please! For the love of god, no more!”
Evan’s grin was beautiful and sincere and for a moment, Hannah envisioned going over to him and kissing it off his face. His hands would come up and palm her shoulder and he pull her close and devour her and she’d let him.
It took only a second for the image to flash behind her eyes and she knew Evan noticed her hitched breath because his grin wavered and disappeared.
“Hannah--” he breathed out.
“Thank you again,” she said quickly. Then as fast as she could, Hannah leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He inhaled sharply and she turned away and fled into her bedroom. Leaning against her door, she listened for him. She heard him take one step closer to her door and she held her breath. As he turned and entered the guest room, she let it out slowly.
Then after kicking her shoes and jeans off and removing her bra from underneath her shirt, she crawled into her bed. She faced the window and stared out at the waxing crescent moon.
Fandom: Teeth, Claws and Guinness
Ship: Various original pairings
Word Count: 6,951
Rating: PG-13, there is some violence, language, needles and blood in this one!
Disclaimer: They are, well, actually, these guys are mine. All of them. I did borrow a set of characters from Terry Pratchett. However, if you ask them, they’ll say they were their own to begin with and he borrowed them. Either way, no infringement meant! Also the title comes from Tired of Being Sorry by Enrique Igliesias. Yeah, I know, shut up.
A/N: I started this on Friday and it wouldn't let me go! I'm posting this un-betaed, so if there are any mistakes, they are totally mine. I hope you enjoy the latest installment! Oh, and the story Hannah tells about the sheep and crow is totally true! I saw them myself one day.
Summary: Strange things are happening in Cwm Alaw. Strange and dangerous things that will affect everyone.
“Well, as Dr. Carson said, you’re really very healthy,” Dr. Yanmei Kelly said looking at what Evan surmised was his medical chart. The slim haematologist looked up at him and a delighted smile appeared on her face. “I have to say, I’m really pleased you came by. You’re my first werewolf!”
Evan blinked and then smiled. “Dr. Carson spoke very highly of you and explained a little about what you do and I thought, well, it couldn’t hurt. It, ah, won’t hurt, will it?”
“Just a little sting,” Dr. Kelly reassured him. She set his records down on the counter and moved to get the vacuum tube and needle ready.
Evan shifted in his seat and looked around the room. For private clinic that primarily dealt with blood analysis, it was surprisingly cheerful and cozy. Dr. Kelly had several flowers and plants dotted about the room, one large ficus whose top was brushing the ceiling sat in the corner, while a pretty blue and white pot with fish painted on the side housed a bright pink geranium soaked up the sun from its spot on the windowsill. The clinic was located right next to the village pharmacy.
“How long have you lived here?” Evan asked.
“Oh, feels like forever,” Dr. Kelly said opening a drawer. “But, only a couple of years. I was working in London, but they weren’t too keen on my theories. One day I read an article by Paul - Dr. Carson the first, that is - and it was about the possibility of supernatural beings and what we could learn from them. Next thing I knew, I was on a train headed towards Wales. I got off, caught the bus and here I am. Haven’t looked back since!”
Her smile was still in place as she turned with a vial attached to a needle. “Now, I don’t need much. Just a little to get me started.”
“What are you hoping to find?” Evan asked as she swabbed a section on the inside of his arm near his elbow.
“Who knows!” she said. “Something that’s not in other people’s blood? A trace of something foreign? I have found some anomalies in other people in the village. Mr. Owens actually has traces of something uniquely avian. And every time Davis comes in, I find something new. Although, that may be a result of his, um, diet. As it were.”
Dr. Kelly sat on a small stool and wheeled over to Evan’s side. She moved Evan’s arm to rest on the arm of the chair and instructed him to make a fist. Her head nodded in time to some internal clock, then she tapped his hand to make him unclench. Dr. Kelly then went about drawing the blood. Evan looked away.
“You know Davis?” he asked focusing on the light hitting the petals of the geranium and not the fact that his blood was flowing steadily out of his body into a bloody tube. And wasn’t that a hateful pun?
“Oh, yes,” Dr. Kelly said pressing a cotton ball to the tiny puncture in his arm. “I supply him with his blood.”
“I’m sorry?” Evan said looking over at her. “You what?”
“Well, he’s not a practicing vampire. He doesn’t exactly hunt anymore. I have connections and can order bags of blood from him from reliable suppliers. I think the butcher’s helps out every now and then, too, but he gets most of his sustenance from the room in the back,” she said. She pulled the vial away and snapped the cap on it. “Here, put pressure on this.”
Evan pressed on the cotton ball while Dr. Kelly rolled away on her little stool. Once she got to the counter, she stood up and made a note on the chart and the tube.
“Okay! All done!” she said turning with another one of her bright smiles. “Do you want Bob the Builder, Hello Kitty or plain?”
She held up three boxes of plasters.
Evan chuckled. “Plain, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“No problem.” She came back over and affixed the plaster to his arm. “There you go! I’ll be sure to let you know if I find anything interesting.”
“Thanks, I think,” he said. Evan got to his feet and gave her a nod. He’d reached the door when she asked him one final question.
“I heard around the village that we’ve got pictsies now,” she said, her eyes wide and shining. “I don’t suppose they’d let me have a sample?” She held up Evan’s vial and waved it back and forth.
Evan winced. “To be honest, I doubt it, but ask Elinor. They seem to follow her orders. Sort of.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, Mr. Michaels.”
“It’s Evan. Please,” he said returning her smile.
Dr. Kelly gave him a tiny salute, another cheerfully lopsided smile and Evan left.
The rest of Evan’s day passed in a slow fashion. It was late October and Halloween was just around the corner, as evidenced by the large pumpkins being sold by the greengrocers and the preponderance of fake spiderwebs tacked up in shop windows. Evan stepped out of the fishmonger’s shop after a long afternoon of bookkeeping for Mr. Owen (‘Christ, lad. Enough of the Mr. Owen crap. You’re a friend of Hannah’s. It’s Stev. Feel up for your first fishing lesson next weekend?’) and breathed in the early evening air.
Someone had lit their coal fire and the sooty smell filled his nostrils along with the sharp scent of a chilly night settling in. The sun was setting in between the houses and a dull orange light outlined the shadows. Living in the city he’d forgotten how crisp air could be, how there was a kind of freedom in leaving your jacket open so that the breeze tripped along your thin shirt and teased the bare skin of your neck.
Evan wandered easily down the street watching the villagers close up their shops and set about making dinner and calling the kids in to do their homework.
He had a sudden pang in his chest that he identified as missing his brother. Evan hadn’t actually seen Ian in years and if he’d appeared on the street in front of him, he’d have no idea what to say to the man. However, Evan remembered how they’d run and run up and down the streets of their home city until their lungs ached and their legs felt like jelly, shouting good-natured abuse at each other. Ian had stayed in Ireland while Evan had been the one to leave after their parents died. Last he’d heard, Ian had finally married Sally McKinnell and was a foreman at the local factory.
Evan wondered what he’d think of his little brother being a werewolf. He also wondered if Ian would think that Evan leaving his high-paying job at a highly lucrative Manchester firm to live in a village not displayed on any map was actually the bigger of the two sins.
Shaking the gloomy thoughts from his head, Evan zipped up his jacket and headed towards the Sheep and Crow, hoping someone had put a stew on or at least had the makings for a sandwich.
As he opened the front door to the pub, a wave of warmth washed over him. He knew it was mostly because of the roaring fire Bryn had set earlier in the day, but it was also from the energy the pub itself seemed to emit. Evan waved at Bryn who was seated with a few of his mates. Bryn raised a hand in welcome and grinned.
“Who do you favour tonight, Evan me lad?” Bryn asked.
“Well, considering who pulls my pint, I’d best say Liverpool,” Evan said taking his jacket off.
“Ah, you’re learning quick,” Bryn said tapping the side of his nose. “She’s in a good mood tonight though, so say what you truly feel in your heart of hearts.”
“In that case, I’m afraid I’ve got to say Portadown, boys,” Evan said with a grin.
The entire table groaned.
“You can take the man out of Ireland,” Bryn said sadly as the other men shook their heads.
“Sorry, gents. The Emerald Isle still holds her sway over a great deal of me heart.” Evan gave them a wave and headed towards the bar where Hannah stood with a smirk on her face.
“You are such a lad,” she said as he approached. “I don’t know why I ever thought differently.”
He grinned. “Never would try to persuade you otherwise. But since you don’t have Sky, I’m afraid I’ll have to make do with your Premier boys.”
Her hair was down tonight and fell in soft waves of red and glints of gold sparked when the light from the fire cast itself on the strands. She flipped it off her shoulder as she returned his grin and said, “So, what’s occurin’?”
“I’d be in your debt forever if you tell me you’ve got something edible behind that bar of yours,” he said.
“You’re already in my debt forever,” she retorted. “But, I’m in a gracious mood, so if you think you can manage some of Uncle Bryn’s bean and rice gunge.”
“Hey, now!” Bryn called out. “It’s not gunge, I’ll thank you kindly, niece o’mine. It’s a delightful concoction of my own making whose consistency is a wondrous balance between stew and chilli.”
“In other words, ‘gunge’,” Hannah called back. She switched her gaze back to Evan. “Care to live dangerously?”
“Bring it on, barkeep,” he said. “And a pint of grog, if you please.”
“Of course, good sir,” she said with a wink and lovely twist of her body she headed towards the back room. Evan took a seat on a stool and dropped his jacket and satchel on the stool beside him. He pulled out a copy of the Financial Times and skipped to the market section. Hannah returned with a bowl of something that did indeed look like it hovered right on the line between chilli and stew. But, it smelled delicious and Evan was hungry so he dug right in.
Hannah moved about behind the bar with a grace that did things to Evan’s senses. He was two weeks away from his last transformation and two weeks before his next, but he’d noticed that no matter the distance between him and the full moon, the wolf inside of him paid attention to everything. Just an odd smell or a sharp noise and the wolf was poised for action. In the case of Hannah, the light touch of her hand or a flash of her smile or the glance of her brown eyes in his direction would make the wolf feel restless. It made Evan feel restless, too.
But, until she gave him the slightest hint of encouragement, he was holding still.
That, of course didn’t mean he couldn’t watch her. She hadn’t been too far off in calling him a lad, so he did his best to cast surreptitious glances at her as she went about her usual tasks.
After he finished his supper and took his plate to the washroom (a plate which he washed and dried along with some extra bits of cutlery), he returned to his paper and the pint of Guinness Hannah had pulled for him earlier. Hannah was busy at the other end listening to the elderly Misses Cowlin explain an extremely convoluted tale involving a spider and a quilt.
“So, did you see Yanmei this morning?” Hannah asked after the ladies had gone to find their own table.
“Yes, I did,” Evan said folding up the paper. “She’s now got a vial of my blood, for what it’s worth. No idea what she’s hoping to find.”
“Well, after what happened to her brother, I imagine she’d be happy with anything,” Hannah said.
“What happened to her brother?” Evan asked frowning.
Hannah furrowed her brow. “She didn’t tell you?”
Evan shook his head and she bit her lip. “It’s not really my story to tell.” She sighed and then said, “I suppose I can tell you that her brother died when he was very young, six or seven. He was diagnosed with severe lymphocytopenia. At least that’s what the doctors said, but supposedly the disease didn’t follow the usual patterns. One night, he just died quietly in his bed. Yanmei always believed it was something supernatural that killed her brother and if it had been properly identified, she was positive there could have been some kind of treatment.”
“Hence the collecting of blood samples from supernatural beings,” Evan said slowly. “I knew she was trying to build a database of sorts. I didn’t bother to ask why.”
“The database is her ultimate goal, but I also think she’s looking for other answers, too,” Hannah said. A worried expression came over her face. “I wonder if she’ll ever find anything.”
Evan idly drummed his fingers on the bar in thought. A flick of delicate white fingers against his drumming ones made him stop and look up. Hannah grinned. Evan mock-glared and flicked her wrist. She gasped and flicked him directly on his forehead. Evan couldn’t help it and laughed out loud.
“You are such a pest,” he said.
“Look who’s talking, you bad puppy,” Hannah said crossing her arms over her chest. Evan choked on his own laughter at being called a ‘puppy’. Hannah waited for him to recover before saying. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”
“Who?” he asked.
“Yanmei,” Hannah said impatiently. “Honestly, Evan, keep up.”
“Uh, yes, I suppose she’s pretty.” Evan thought back to his appointment with the haematologist. She had been pretty. Tall and oddly quirky, with kind, dark eyes and a pleasant voice. Definitely pretty. Evan shrugged. “I don’t know, though. Not really my type.”
“You have a type?” Hannah asked looking amused.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She switched from looking amused to looking thoughtful quickly. Evan remembered the section in her family journal describing the man she met in Vietnam and he started to feel a whole new kind of restless.
“Besides,” he said quickly. “I tend to like a girl with, I don’t know, some fire to her.”
Hannah gave him a look and he was pleased to see amusement come flooding back in. “Fire?”
Evan nodded and desperately hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck, reached up and tucked a lock of her truly fiery red hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed the shell of her ear and he could see her shiver. He dropped his hand to the bar.
Hannah swallowed hard and then asked, “Evan Michaels, was that a come on?”
“It may well have been an attempt at one, yeah,” he said, the wolf inside him starting to pace and whine.
“Well, I’ve got to go and serve Mr. and Mrs. Glinter,” she said and Evan registered a couple a few seats down staring at them. “So, while I’m doing that, you try and come up with another line. One decidedly less predictable and that has nothing to do with my hair. Okay?”
“I’ll give it my best effort,” he said seriously. Hannah nodded and left him to his thoughts.
Which tumbled over themselves and he took a long drink of his pint trying to sort them all out.
“Hey, Evan! Thought you might be here!”
Evan turned to see Harry Porter headed his way.
“Evenin’ Harry. How’s life treating you?” Evan said in greeting shaking the other man’s hand.
“Can’t complain too much,” Harry said taking the seat next to Evan and waving at Hannah. “Had a bit of a proposal for you though.”
“Well, this is rather sudden, mate,” Evan said giving him a sideways glance. “You haven’t even taken me for dinner yet.”
“I am known as a fast worker,” Harry said good-naturedly. “But, I was actually referring to tonight. You feel like helping me move old Mrs. Pedlar’s furniture out of her house to her sister’s?”
“What’s wrong with her house?” Evan asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” Harry said taking a pint of Stella from Hannah with a nod. “Every few months or so, she gets the notion that her husband is starting to, ah, shall we say, stray? So she decides to teach him a lesson while he’s out on his annual fishing trip with his brother. Which means everything gets moved out of the house and into her sister’s garage. Mr. Pedlar comes back, sees his empty house, hurries over to Mrs. Pedlar, throws himself at her feet and she takes him back.”
“Is Mr. Pedlar straying?” Evan asked.
“Of course not,” Harry said after downing half his pint in one go. “He once told me that this whole kerfuffle brings a little bit of spice and excitement to their marriage and if he has to prostrate himself to ensure at least three months of peace, he’s more than happy to do so.”
“Crikey,” Evan said shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Did I mention she pays well?”
Evan looked over at him and asked, “How much?”
“Fifty quid each plus she throws in a slice of her lemon drizzle cake, which is payment in and of itself.”
Evan drained the last of his Guinness. “I’m in.”
“Brilliant!” Harry finished his Stella. “We’re off to the Pedlar’s, Hannah!”
“Oh, is it that time of year again?” Hannah asked carrying in a tray of clean pint glasses. “Give my love and commiserations to Mrs. Pedlar.”
Harry grinned while Evan said, “But, I thought Mr. Pedlar wasn’t actually doing anything wrong?”
“Oh, he’s not,” Hannah said. “But, that doesn’t mean a lady doesn’t like to know the neighbours are on her side regardless. You boys have fun!”
Evan and Harry headed out, but just as they reached the door, Hannah called out, “Oh and Evan? I’m still waiting for that next attempt.”
He gave her a look that swept over her body and grinned. “Patience is a virtue, Miz MacNeil.” Evan gave her a wink and then walked out the door.
Yanmei sighed and rubbed at the back of her neck. She sat up slowly and stretched her arms up and decided to call it a night; there wasn’t much more she could do tonight.
She stood up and turned off the light on her microscope and made a final notation on her notes. Then she left her lab, turning off the lights as she went. She had just entered the front room of the clinic when someone spoke.
“Evening, Yanmei.”
She shrieked a little and her hand flew to her chest. “Goodness gracious, Davis! Don’t do that!”
Davis smiled at her from the doorway and laughed gently. “I am sorry. I should have made some noise.”
“Honestly,” she said smiling at him and shaking her head. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. And you?” he asked as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “Isn’t past working hours?”
“Oh, you know me,” she said walking up to him. “I’m hardly one to stick to conventional hours.”
“Yes, you are wonderfully unpredictable,” he said, his fond look belying the statement.
“Yes, well,” Yanmei said feeling a blush start in her cheeks. “What can I do for you? I don’t suppose this is a social visit?”
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Davis said as he frowned. “I’ve gone and done something rather stupid, Yanmei, you see I’ve run out of blood. I’ve been so preoccupied with my latest novel and neglected to keep track of my supply at home. Do you think you could...”
“Of course,” Yanmei said putting her hand on his arm. “As if you needed to ask.”
Something flashed in Davis’ eyes as he looked down at her hand. Everything he’d ever told her about his condition down to the fierce hunger that could spring up out of nowhere flooded her mind. Hoping it looked casual and not frightened Yanmei removed her hand and turned away.
“I’ve got the keys on me,” she said. “Just follow me.”
As they walked through the clinic, Yanmei was terribly aware of how silent Davis was. Normally, he’d be asking her questions, drawing her out, being friendly. She’d always loved their conversations and he’d given her no end of helpful advice and tips in regards to his research.
But, now he wasn’t saying anything at all; which made her wonder if he was focused on something else. Something like control.
They reached the back pantry and Yanmei gave a sigh of relief as did Davis. She met his eyes and gave him a comforting smile. He made to return it, but stopped. His eyes narrowed on the pantry door and his expression turned dark.
“What is it?” she asked a chill speeding down her spine.
“They aren’t in there,” Davis said through clenched teeth. “The bags. I can’t smell them.”
“What? No! Of course, they’re there!” Yanmei quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. She flicked on the light and gasped.
The shelves where the bags of blood and plasma should have been stacked neatly were empty. Not a single bag had been left.
“I don’t understand!” Yanmei said rushing into the room and checking the other shelves. “They were here this morning! I checked. I’m the only one with a key. Oh my God, Davis, I don’t understand!”
She turned to face Davis who was holding himself unnaturally still, his eyes pale and his hands clenched into fists.
“Maybe the butcher’s is still open,” she whispered.
“Perhaps.” This was said in a low, quiet tone as he stared at the empty shelves. He came back into himself and met her eyes. “I will go and check.”
“Davis, I am so sorry,” she said biting her lip. “I have no idea how this happened, but I’ll find out.”
The vampire nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure there is an explanation. It’s possible someone thought they might try out a practical joke.”
“This isn’t very funny,” Yanmei said, her stomach tying itself into knots.
“No, no it is not.” Once again, he looked lost in thought and then once again, he shook himself out of it. He gave her another smile. “It will be fine. I’m sure the butchers will have something and I can always drive into Bangor to the hospital there.”
He stepped close to Yanmei and she sucked in a breath at how very pale he was. “It will be fine, Yanmei. I promise.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but he had already gone, walking silently and swiftly down the hall. Yanmei let out a ragged breath and stared at the empty shelves.
Davis walked down the streets of the village in the direction of the butchers.
Someone had deliberately taken his blood. If only he hadn’t been so distracted lately, but he’d already drunk his back-up supply the day before, secure in the knowledge that he could easily obtain more.
His strides lengthened into a brisk walk.
The hunger inside him was potent and angry. While he could go without feeding and had done so under certain circumstances, it had already been too long since his last meal. He needed blood.
The butchers shop was nearby and he calmed himself long enough to knock on the back door. The knock went unanswered. He tried again. Nothing.
The window of the building next door opened and the butcher’s neighbour poked his head out. “He’s not in! Had to go off to Swansea to see his cousin! Said he’d be back day after tomorrow. Is it an emergency?”
Davis swallowed an epithet and said kindly, “Oh, no. No emergency. I merely forgot to pick something up. I’ll try later. Thank you.”
“No worries!” The window closed.
No worries, indeed, Davis thought. The hunger stabbed at him, blurring his vision. He blinked and checked his pocketwatch.
Eleven pm.
Last call at the pub.
Perhaps...
Hannah all but shoved Uncle Bryn out the back door, his mates having scattered in different directions into the night.
“Now, Hannah, my flower,” Bryn said. “I do like that young buck of yours. Good head on his shoulders. You will be holding onto him, won’t you?”
“We’ll have to see, uncle,” Hannah said giving him a kiss on his weathered cheek. “I kind of like him myself. Now, walk safely. Good night!”
“Hmm, good night, love.” Bryn tweaked her nose and made his way to his flat in the building next door.
Hannah sighed affectionately and closed the door, throwing the bolt into place. She loaded a rack of glasses into the dishwasher and then switched it on. Grabbing a dishcloth, she headed into the pub and gasped loudly.
Davis stood in the middle of the empty room, the light of the fire throwing harsh shadows across his paler than usual face. His eyes were the palest blue she’d ever seen.
“Hi,” she said unsteadily. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
A strange smile appeared on his face. “That seems to be the theme for the evening.”
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked walking into the room, dropping the cloth onto a table.
“No, no, I’m afraid that I’m quite far from okay,” he said, his eyes capturing hers. “I do hope you can help me, Hannah.”
“So do I,” she said hesitantly. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is and we’ll--”
“I’m hungry.”
“What?” Hannah felt her heart thudding and became very, very aware of exactly what Davis was and how alone she was at that very moment.
“I’m hungry, Hannah,” Davis said slowly and clearly. “Someone has stolen all the blood from Yanmei’s clinic and the butcher isn’t available.” He paused and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing. “I am hoping you might have some spare bags.”
“I’ll have to check,” Hannah said wanting to turn away but feeling any movement might be unwise. She didn’t want to startle him into action. “I know Aunt Gwendi kept some for you at one point.”
The strange smile reappeared on his face. “I always liked your aunt. Such a lovely woman. She always smelled of the sea. Unlike you.” His eyes opened and she felt pinned by their power. “You always smell like the forest.”
“It’s probably my detergent,” she said far more flippantly than she felt. “It’s supposed to be pine-scented.”
He didn’t reply, just continued to stare at her. His expression became pained and Hannah said quickly, “Just stay here. I’m sure there’s something I can find to help.”
The pained expression on his face reached the point of agony. “It may be too late,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh, Hannah. I shouldn’t have come here. I am sorry. I left it too long.”
The black of his pupils enlarged and took over the pale blue of his iris. Hannah’s own eyes widened and she held up a hand and said, “Wait!”
“I can’t,” he whispered and the firelight glinted off his elongated incisors.
Then he lunged.
Hannah darted to the side, putting a small table between them. Davis hissed in disappointment and reached for her over the table. She shoved the table into his mid-section and he grunted from the impact. Whirling around, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which was a and empty bottle of red, and heaved it with all her might at his head. It broke on contact and Davis made a pitiful sound. Hannah ran towards the door, but he was too fast, even with pieces of glass in his hair.
His arms grabbed her waist and she let out a yell as he pulled her away from the door and flung her towards another table. Her side hit the edge of the table and she cried out, her hands scrabbling on the table top for any type of weapon. She grabbed a pint glass and threw at Davis who was approaching. His hand brushed the glass aside in mid-air and a steady litany of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” poured from his mouth.
“Don’t do this!” Hannah shouted grabbing another pint glass and bringing it over his head as he neared her. He barely flinched as the glass shattered and he grabbed her hand, pinning it to her side. Her other hand came up to grasp at his other hand that was headed towards her throat. Davis leaned in and she started to bend backwards over the table, her feet beginning to lose their grip on the floor. Tiny shards of glass dropped from his hair to land on her face.
Hannah struggled in his grip and she just managed to get out a small, “Don’t! Davis, please!”
Tears fell from his sad eyes as his mouth opened, his lips peeling back to reveal his sharp teeth.
Harry was right.
Mrs. Pedlar’s lemon drizzle cake was worth the hassle of moving a sofa, five chairs, and two armchairs, not mention all the books and the television.
Evan turned up his collar to the chill breeze sweeping through the streets of the village on his way back to the pub. It was past last call, but he knew Hannah would be around for a little while at least.
He had a line for her and he had to stifle a chuckle at the thought of it.
When he was only three doors away his stupidly sensitive ears picked up the sound of glass breaking in the pub. Evan frowned and slowed down to listen carefully. He heard the sound of something breaking again, this time followed by Hannah’s voice raised in a yell.
Evan took off in a dead run, hunching slightly to get the best traction and momentum as he sped towards the pub and Hannah.
He burst into the front door and snarled at the sight in front of him.
Davis had Hannah bent over backwards on a table in the middle of the room, with his fangs out while Hannah struggled beneath. Davis moved his head to glare at the interruption and bared his teeth.
A low growl made its way up from Evan’s diaphragm to emerge from his throat. His hands curled into his palms and his vision sharpened.
Without a word, he threw himself at the vampire.
Hannah’s first thought at seeing Evan standing in the doorway to the Sheep and Crow was, “Oh, his eyes. They’re golden.” Her second thought was, “Oh, god. They’re going to kill each other.”
Then Evan slammed into Davis and his grip on Hannah was loosened and she fell to the floor as werewolf and vampire rolled away, already locked into the fight.
Hannah scrambled to her feet and ran to the storeroom. She could hear growls and whines and hisses along with fists hitting flesh and bodies hitting furniture as she ransacked the small room. She let out an actual sob of relief when she found what she was looking for.
She ran back into the main room and took stock of the two men. Evan had Davis pinned against the stone wall next to the fireplace. Davis looked angry and pale and resigned, while Evan just looked angry. His forearm was pressing to Davis’ windpipe and he was leaning heavily, his eyes hard and gold.
“Evan!” Hannah shouted. He merely turned his head a fraction and caught the bag she’d thrown with one hand. Instantly recognizing what it was, Evan shoved the blood bag into Davis’ face.
The vampire’s teeth sank into the bag immediately and his hands came up to hold the bag to his face as he drank. Evan recoiled in disgust and dropped his hands from their position on the other man’s body. He backed away and when Hannah reached his side, he took her hand and held it tightly. She squeezed his hand and pressed close against his back and handed him another blood bag.
Davis finished the first bag and his eyes had lost their feral blackness, the blue slowly returning. Blood dripped down his chin and Hannah fought to not feel revolted. She could tell Evan didn’t bother to fight it judging by the expression on his face. Davis lowered the bag and met her gaze, which he dropped as he looked away.
“I’m--” his voice caught. “I can’t even begin...to tell you...how sorry--”
“Sorry?” Evan’s harshly raised voice made Hannah jump. “You attacked her and you’re fuckin’ sorry?”
“Evan--” she said.
“No! No, Hannah!” he said turning his head towards her but keeping his eyes on Davis. “Tell me you’re going to report this or tell him to get lost or, or, or something!”
Hannah felt a little lost. She honestly wasn’t sure what she should do. “It wasn’t his fault,” she said quietly. “Someone stole his blood supply.”
“What?” Now, Evan looked at her. Then he looked back at Davis, who was trying to tidy himself up. “This was deliberate?”
“The theft of my blood certainly was,” Davis said. “Whether the ultimate intention was for me to attack someone, I cannot say.”
Evan looked between Davis and Hannah, his frustration and confusion apparent on his face. “Fuck. Fuck! That’s fucked up.”
Hannah let out a tense laugh in agreement, while Davis nodded. “It is as you say.” He met Hannah’s eyes briefly. “I must go. I will go into the mountains and then on to Bangor. I know someone there who can help me.”
“Davis, are you sure?” she asked.
“That you can ask me that is a testament to you, Hannah,” Davis said with a twist of his lips. “But, yes. I must. I am--sated, for now. I will need more.”
Evan threw the last bag at Davis who caught it easily. The two men stared at each other, Evan’s jaw tightening. Davis submitted first and looked away.
“I’m so very sorry, Hannah,” he said once again. Then he was gone.
With his departure, the air in the pub seemed to rush back in and Hannah felt all the adrenaline woosh out of her system. Her knees felt wobbly and she breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain some equilibrium.
“Are you honestly going to let it go?” she heard Evan ask.
“I’ll tell the people who need to know,” she said. “Ellie and Portia. Yanmei and maybe Stev and Grace. No need in creating a panic.”
“Still...”
“I know, I know,” she said. Then her knees gave out and she stumbled a little. Evan’s arms went around her body and he led her over to the only chair not turned over on its side. She sat down and closed her eyes.
“Christ, Hannah. Are you okay?” he asked kneeling on one knee in front of her, his hands warm on hers.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, keeping her eyes closed and focusing on her breathing. “It all just kind of hit me all of a sudden, you know?”
“Yeah, I do actually.” Hannah noticed that his hands had a slight tremor to them and she opened her eyes.
“Your eyes are back to normal,” she said absently.
He looked confused. “Did they change?”
Hannah nodded. “They were gold a few minutes ago. And your shoulders were all sort of hunched.” She smiled tiredly. “And your hair was all shaggy.” She lifted a hand and smoothed the hair above his ears. “It still is.”
“Well, that’s just me needing a haircut,” he said shakily obviously trying to process his own body’s changing on him.
She sighed and looked around her messy pub. “Well, that’s twice in one month I’m going to have to replace furniture.”
Evan winced. “I’ll help. The table over there was mostly my fault.”
“You bet your ass you’ll help,” she said feeling a little bit of her energy come back to her. “But in the morning. I want my bed.”
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
As they locked up the pub, it occurred to Hannah that if she asked, he would probably make love to her tonight if she asked him to. She could have this man in her bed, holding her and loving her. It would be good, too. The thought made her breath stutter and filled her with warmth. It also filled her with apprehension. She caught sight of his profile as they got into her car, Evan in the driver’s seat. He had looked like something out of the pages of a fairy tale earlier; part man and part beast. It had been all for her, she knew that.
As they drove through the dark and silent village she wondered how one man could make her feel safe and yet unsettled all at the same time?
“I still think something else needs to be done,” he said, his low voice cutting through the silence in the car. “The man did attack you, no matter if he was driven to it or not.”
Hannah thought for a moment, then she asked, “Did I ever tell you about how the Sheep and Crow got its name?”
Evan gave her a sideways look. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“My great grandfather or well, my great grandfather a few times removed I should say, was out one day walking the fields. The pub or something similar to it has always been where it is today, and it was once call the Red Dragon. A hold over from ages ago, they said.
“Anyway, great granddad was out in the fields and he saw this sheep grazing contentedly with a large black crow sitting right smack on his back, happy as a clam. Great granddad watched the pair for a bit. The crow looked pleased to have somewhere to rest its wings while the sheep looked satisfied with the extra company. Great granddad went back and changed the name of the pub that night.”
Hannah finished her story and gave Evan an expectant look. He had a half grin on his face as he said, “So essentially you’re saying that it’s very possible for two species to exist peacefully in a small area and we should make allowances and exercise some compassion from time to time?”
“Oh, no. I’m just sharing a bit of local history with you,” Hannah said looking out the window at the dark countryside as they drove down her small lane. “If you happen to derive some kind of moral message out of the tale, that’s your look-out.”
Evan chuckled.
The headlights illuminated Hannah’s house and she breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of her duvet. They exited the car and Hannah let them both inside. The darkness of the house felt familiar and Hannah dropped her keys into the purple glass bowl on the side table.
“I can head back to the pub tonight,” Evan said uncertainly.
“Don’t be silly,” Hannah said flipping the upstairs hallway light on. “You’re coming with me to Harry’s pick up some new chairs in the morning, so you may as well stay.”
“If you’re sure,” he said.
Hannah gave him a look. “I’m sure. Stay. The guest room is right where you left it.”
She turned and headed up the stairs, Evan following slowly. Hannah could feel his solid presence and her skin tingled and itched for contact. She arrived at her bedroom and turned to face him.
He stood a few feet away, just outside the door to the guest room. They stared at one another, Hannah’s blood thrumming in her veins and Evan’s hands deceptively loose at his side.
“Thank you,” Hannah said eventually. “For tonight. For helping me.”
“You’re welcome,” Evan said his eyes no longer gold, but shining with something that Hannah both ached and hesitated to discover.
“You ah, promised me a line,” she said, a corner of her mouth lifting. “I don’t suppose you thought of one.”
The hint of a grin appeared on his face. “I did actually. You sure you’re ready for it?”
“Bring it,” she said.
“In that case, trust me, I'm an accountant,” he said, his voice dropping down a register. “I know how to manipulate firm assets.”
Hannah stared and then burst out laughing. “That’s awful! Oh, my god, you’re terrible at this!”
Evan started to laugh and said, “There’s plenty more where that came from, I promise you.”
Wiping at her eyes, she said, “Well as long as there’s no mention of my arrears, we’ll be fine.”
“Oh, of course. I’d hate for us to get into that,” he said. “But, I may have to make some adjustments to your bottom line.”
Giggling, Hannah slumped against her door. “Please! For the love of god, no more!”
Evan’s grin was beautiful and sincere and for a moment, Hannah envisioned going over to him and kissing it off his face. His hands would come up and palm her shoulder and he pull her close and devour her and she’d let him.
It took only a second for the image to flash behind her eyes and she knew Evan noticed her hitched breath because his grin wavered and disappeared.
“Hannah--” he breathed out.
“Thank you again,” she said quickly. Then as fast as she could, Hannah leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He inhaled sharply and she turned away and fled into her bedroom. Leaning against her door, she listened for him. She heard him take one step closer to her door and she held her breath. As he turned and entered the guest room, she let it out slowly.
Then after kicking her shoes and jeans off and removing her bra from underneath her shirt, she crawled into her bed. She faced the window and stared out at the waxing crescent moon.
