Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Vampire Chronicles – The Interview ❯ chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

 
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Vampire Chronicles - The Interview
Chapter 5
Milliardo gasped when the tawny-haired vampire nipped at his neck, inflicting a mixture of pleasure and pain, without breaking the skin. Nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt. A rush of cold air hit his bare skin as the fabric was peeled away, and he shivered.
Treize captured his mouth in a heated and passionate kiss. His tongue teased the young man's lips till they parted slightly, allowing him entrance. He slipped his tongue between them, plundering the hot cavern of the other's mouth. Milliardo groaned. His own tongue moved to tangle with Treize's, as he lifted a hand to cup the back of the vampire's head and bury his fingers into silky hair.  It felt so good...
Before breaking their kiss Treize nipped at Milliardo's lower lip and licked away a tiny drop of blood that formed where his fangs had pierced the soft skin.
Milliardo shuddered as a strong but gentle hand slowly moved over his chest until it found one of his nipples. Long fingers circled it slowly before giving it little squeezes and twists. Then Treize lowered his head. His tongue flickered over the little, pink bud, sending waves of pleasure through the young man's body and straight to his groins. Milliardo flushed, but did nothing to stop the vampire. Soft lips enveloped the quickly hardening nub; sharp fangs grazed over sensitive skin. Milliardo's breath came in staggered pants, harsh to his own ears. He arched his back, his nails digging into the silk sheets beneath him. He closed his eyes with a content sigh, writhed and moaned under the Treize's talented touches.
Treize raised his head just long enough to gaze into a pair of pleasure-clouded, blue eyes. “Beautiful, you are so beautiful," he breathed, before turning his attention back to the young man's nipples. He suckled them softly, rolling the tips around with his tongue, and grazing his teeth over the now taut nubs. With an almost feral growl he slipped the shirt off the reporter's shoulders, exposing more pale skin, and placed a trail of wet kisses along the young man's jaw. He suckled at the soft flesh at the nape of the neck, raising exquisite little bruises, while one of his hands wandered over Milliardo's broad chest, down to slim hip and finally found its way between Milliardo's legs.
The young man whimpered softly and raised his hips slightly, pressing his arousal seductively against Treize's fingers. He needed more than just kisses; his throbbing erecting was aching for release. “How long are you going to keep teasing me?” he growled.
“Hush,” Treize told him. “I want to relish every moment of this.” One of his hands disappeared beneath the waistband of Milliardo's trousers, lingering for a moment in the patch of soft curls above his manhood, before moving deeper. Long fingers fondled the firm shaft gently.
Riiiiiiing….Riiiiing…
Milliardo groaned. Still half asleep and with his eyes closes he reached out and felt for the phone on his nightstand. He flipped it open and pressed it against his ear. “Hello?”
“Milliardo Peacecraft?” A somewhat familiar voice on the other end of the line asked.
“Deputy!?” He blinked and slowly opened his eyes.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you... again. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I've heard you went out to Deerwood last night, alone.”
“I'm fine!” they journalist assured the other man as he blinked the last traces of sleep from his eyes.
“Well then, sorry again.”
“Umm... deputy?!”
“Yes?”
“Can we meet somewhere? I'd like to talk to you... privately if that's possible.”
“Well...” there was a short pause and Milliardo could hear the rustling of paper in the background as Otto checked his schedule. “I have a meeting I need to go to soon, but if you want I can pick you up at the motel in an hour. Does that sound alright?”
“One hour, sounds great.” That would still give him enough time to shower and grab something for breakfast, or more precisely lunch.”
“Okay, I'll see you then.”
Milliardo closed his phone and put it back onto the nightstand. He fell back into the pillows, interlaced his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. It was odd, he was still feeling all warm and fuzzy inside; the feeling you get when waking up from a wonderful dream, but he could, for the life of it, not remember what he had dreamed about when the phone woke him. Finally he pushed aside the comforter and climbed out of bed. For just a fleeting moment, while he gathered his clothes and headed for the shower, his assignment and the article that was due in a few hours crossed his mind. But the thought was quickly pushed aside by memories of the night before and his conversation with the still so mysterious vampire who called himself Treize Khushrenada.
#
The deputy's police car was standing in the motel's parking lot when Milliardo left Mimi's Café. The deputy noticed him too and tapped his horn to get the reporter's attention. Milliardo raised his hand in greeting as he walked over to the car.
“Should we go to my place?” Otto suggested. “It's just around the corner.”
“Sounds great.” The young man ducked his head as he slipped into the passenger seat. They drove for about a block and a half and stopped in front of a pretty little two-story house with a neatly maintained front yard and little flowerbeds surrounded by stones.
“Your house?” Milliardo asked.
“No, I just rent the upper floor. The lady who owns it is widowed I make sure that the place doesn't fall apart and she cooks my meals,” explained the deputy.
They entered the house through a back entrance that led to a flight of stairs leading to the second floor.
Otto showed his guest into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to grab something to eat and some coffee downstairs. I hope you don't mind, but I haven't had time to eat lunch yet!”
“Not at all,” Milliardo assured him.
As the other man left, he started to look around the room. There were some pictures on the walls of Otto in uniform at the police academy, along with a few decorations and diplomas. On a sideboard were more photos, most of them showing Otto as a child or teenager together with a man who looked a little too old to be his father. In one of the pictures Otto was holding a crossbow and stood proudly next to a wild boar he seemed just to have shot.
Milliardo continued looking around. On a small table by the window he found a burner and some equipment that looked like it could be used to melt lead or other soft metal. The young man frowned as he noticed several small, silvery balls that reminded him of bug shots or oversized BB gun bullets.
“Please don't touch those.”
Milliardo turned with a start. “These are silver bullets, aren't they?!”
The deputy nodded solemnly as he walked over to the table and set down a plate with sandwiches and a small tray with two cups of coffee, cream and sugar. “It's quite possible that I might need them.”
The reporter's frown deepened. “Who are you?”
Otto looked at him then gestured toward the table. “Sit down, I'll tell you.”
He waited for Milliardo to settle down on one of the chairs by the table before he continued. “I'm afraid I wasn't totally honest with you when I told you the story about how I got to this town and why I stayed here. Actually I came to Victoriaville for one reason and one reason only; to complete what my grandfather started fifty years ago.”
“Your grandfather?”
The deputy nodded in conformation. “You see, I. come from a long line of vampire hunters. My parents got killed by rogues when I was still a baby. My grandfather raised me and passed on the `tricks of the trade' to me.”
“You mean... he was the one who shot Duke Khushrenada back then?”
Otto gave another nod. “He had told me the story many times while I grew up. He warned me to not repeat his mistake. But when he died five years ago I threw his advice in the wind packed my bags and headed for Victoriaville. I had been training for a long time and I figured I was skilled enough to take on even a master vampire.”
“What... what happened?” Milliardo wanted to know.
“I underestimated him.” The deputy admitted. “Just like granddad did back then. He could have killed me right then and there. But for some reason he didn't even though I made it pretty clear that I wasn't going anywhere. I was going to stay in town and if he or any other vampire would give me any reason I would kill them.”
“And?” The journalist reached for one of the coffee cups, poured himself some cream and stirred it while he looked questioningly at the other man.
“He gave me a polite smile and said: `Excellent, I'll be sleeping much better from now on, knowing that somebody is watching over my town during the day.'”
Milliardo almost laughed. Yes, somehow that sounds very Treize-like. “Well, at least he seems to care about the people here.”
“Make no mistake.” Otto snorted. “Vampires don't care about anything but themselves. And as far as I'm concerned Treize is no exception. He is territorial and possessive, yes. He watches over Victoriaville, not because he cares, but because he considers it his. But then I might be wrong.” He gave the other man a strange grin. “There might be something, or someone, he does care about.”
“Huh?”
“Me finding you asleep in your car yesterday morning wasn't exactly by accident. He had Trowa call me before contacting the police dispatcher. He told me where I would find you and asked me to make sure you were okay.”
“So what?” Milliardo huffed even as he could feel heat creep into his cheeks. He quickly raised the coffee cup to his lips and took a few long gulps, hoping the other man wouldn't notice his blush. “Anyway,” he tried to change the subject. “Since you seem to know a lot about vampires; what about those two rogues that attacked me last night? Alex and Mueller I believe is what they called themselves. Do you know anything about them?”
“Not much,” the deputy admitted. He reached for one of the sandwiches, took a large bite, chewed and swallowed it before he continued. “They showed up a few weeks ago. They must be either desperate or suicidal. No halfway intelligent vampire would provoke a conflict with a ruling clan leader.”
“A ruling clan leader? You mean Treize? I had no idea he had such power and status. What else do you know about him?”
“Do you ever run out of questions?” Otto laughed.
“Not a chance, not any time soon at least.”
“Alright, as far as I know Treize has lived for at least five or six hundred years, which is not really that old. But was born into the Romefeller clan, a very old and powerful clan, and groomed to become the new clan leader. However, he started to rebel against the elders and many of the old rules and laws. He found a large fellowship especially amongst younger vampires who consider themselves a new generation with new principles. Eventually he left Romefeller together with his followers and proclaimed himself the ruling leader of his own clan. He uses Deerwood manor as his retreat when he is not tending to matters of the court. And that's pretty much it.” The deputy took another bite from his sandwich. “But what about you and your newspaper article; weren't you supposed to interview Sheriff Bonaparte and not me?”
“Yeah well, you could say there was a little change of plans. I think I'll stay in town a little longer.”
“Oh?!” The deputy didn't seem as surprised as he pretended to be.
“Yes, I'm thinking that perhaps with Treize's permission I can write a story like no one else has; the truth about vampires so to speak. I'm beginning to think that human ignorance makes us think worse of them then they really are.”
“So he has gotten to you, hasn't he?” Otto looked at his guest with a odd grin on his face. “Well I'm not surprised, he can be smooth as an oil slick on a country road, and he can be charming enough that even a rattlesnake would surrender its next meal if he asked for it.”
“I don't know what you are talking about. This is strictly business; I am a journalist and he provides a sensational story.”
“Really?!” the deputy's grin grew even wider at the faint hue of crimson in Milliardo's cheeks.
The reporter huffed. “Look who is talking.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You came here to kill Treize, didn't you? But now you are living together like the fox and the hound dog.”
“I never said I had changed my mind about killing him, did I? He just hasn't given me any reason yet.” Otto replied with a shrug. “I have learned a lot since I came here. Truth is, if Treize died there is no saying who might take over his clan. Besides, fights for domination are known to be bloody. I guess leaving him in power for now might be the lesser of the two evil.”
“Riiight!”
Otto reached for another sandwich and Milliardo sipped his coffee. For a few minutes either of the two men spoke, until the deputy looked up and asked. “So you are really planning on going back?”
“Yes,” the journalist confirmed. “But not tonight. He asked me to stay away from Deerwood tonight, but I don't have the slightest idea why.”
“Are you serious?” Otto looked at him like he had to be joking. “Don't you know what night tonight is?”
“Yeah, it's Halloween, but…”
“Its All Souls Night, the night when vampires succumb to their most primal urges. It's dangerous enough for a human to be around them on a normal day, but during All Souls Night vampires forget even their own strengths and they can easily kill you even without intending to.”
“Then... when he said he would not be able to protect me, he wasn't talking about other vampires.” Milliardo realized with a shiver.
Otto nodded. “He would not be able to protect you from himself.”
“Is that why you made those silver bullets? In case you'll need to defend yourself?”
“More or less,” he confirmed. “I'll need to make sure that none of them come into town tonight.” The deputy checked his watch and gave a regretful sigh. “I'm afraid I have to go back to work. Can I take you back to your motel?”
“Yes, thanks.” Milliardo nodded. “And thanks also for answering many of my questions.”
“No problem,” Otto laughed. “I don't really mind. It's nice to have someone to talk about these things with. Since my grandfather died I have been pretty much keeping to myself.”
“In that case, I might be back with more questions.”
“Like I said, I don't mind.”
###
“Miss Noin?!” Lucrezia Noin was on her way back to her office after lunch, when the receptionist in the lobby stopped her.
“What is it Kathy?”
“This letter was delivered by carrier for you, while you were gone,” the young woman explained as she handed her a business size envelope.
“Who is it from?”
“Mister Peacecraft.”
Milliardo? Noin didn't even wait till she got to her office before ripping open the letter and pulling out a few pieces of handwritten paper. She had only heard from her colleague once in the last week. He had left her a message telling her that he was fine and he would get in touch with her again. She unfolded the paper and started to read them.
Dear Noin,
I just wanted to let you know that I was okay,before you start mobilizing the National Guard to have them look for me. I'm sorry that I didn't get the article written like I had promised. I hope you are not angry about it.
Remember when I told you about me little `theory' regarding those accidents in Victoriaville? Well, it turned out I could not have been more wrong about that. However I'mon tosomething else, something far bigger right now. This might just be the biggeststory of my live. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you more right now.
I need you to do me a favor. Enclosed in this letter you will find my resignation. Could you please hand it to the boss? Tell him not to worry, I have sent the equipment back and the package should arrive in the next few days.
That's pretty much all for now. I'll be in touch again.
Milliardo
For the longest time Noin stared at the piece of paper, dumbfounded. Part of her was almost sure that this had to be one of Milliardo's strange jokes. She reached for her phone and dialed his number, but just like any other time she had tried to call him for the past week, he was either out of reach or his phone was turned off. With a frustrated grunt she turned off her phone. Milliardo, please be safe.
###
“Milliardo, are you sure about this?” Deputy Otto asked skeptically. Over the past week the reporter had spent a lot of time with him; almost as much as he was spending at Deerwood Manor, and the two of them had become quite friendly.
His friend had just confined in him that Treize was leaving the estate to take care of matters at the court and to do some traveling. He had invited Milliardo to join him and his men on his journeys.
“I'm positive,” Milliardo assured him. Enthusiasm was clearly written over his face. “This might be the chance of my life.”
Otto wasn't so sure. “This might also be the best chance to loose your life,” he pointed out.
“I'm sure it will be alright.” the journalist insisted, “Treize would have never invited me to travel with him if he thought it would put me in danger. That much I know about him.”
The deputy shook his head, unconvinced. “A vampire court is no place for humans.” He tried to reason with the other man, but Milliardo had already made up his mind and there was nothing he could have said or done to make him rethink.
“When are you going to leave?”
“Tomorrow night. I'll spend the day at Deerwood so this will be the last time we see each other untill we return.”
Otto nodded as he rose from his chair. He walked over to the small table by the window, opened a drawer and removed something about the size of a letter opener. “Take this!” he demanded as he handed the object to his friend.
“A dagger?”
“A silver dagger,” the other man clarified “I hope that you will never need it but it will make me feel better if I know you are not totally unprotected.”
“Thanks. “Milliardo accepted the small weapon and rose to his feet. “I'd better go now. I promised Treize to meet him shortly after dusk.”
Otto walked the reporter to the door. Then he stepped back into his room and to the window, from where he watched the young man climb into his car and drive away. I hope you know what you are doing, he thought wistfully. Take care of yourself, Milliardo.
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T.B.C.
 
Author's Note: