Chapter Text
Immediately, Abolish knew there was something unusual about his next assignment.
He stood opposite Morcant in his study, a file on the desk between them. Morcant, as usual, looked for all intents and purposes like a kind grandfatherly figure simply wishing to spend time with his ward — but Abolish knew him well enough to see the sharpness in his eyes, the straightness of his posture. Still, the smile he gave Abolish when he entered was entirely real.
“As you know, the vampiric great houses meet together once a decade, and the next one is within the month,” Morcant said, once pleasantries had been discussed for long enough that any eavesdroppers would have long since lost interest.
It was one of the largest events the vampires held, where they shored their power, crafting and shattering alliances over the span of a full moon’s night. Held in the form of a massive ball, because if there was one thing consistent about vampires it was their tendency for the dramatic.
“This will be the first time in a decade that most our high risk targets will be guaranteed to stay in one place — and all together.” Morcant opened the file, and even upside down Abolish could see the list of those very targets spelled out. Some of the worst vampires, and the hardest to track. It was undeniable that this was an invaluable opportunity the organisation could not afford to waste.
So far, this was par the course, with nothing to mark this assignment as stranger than any other, despite the importance and rarity of it. Still, Abolish had not had his instincts proven wrong in a long time, and Morcant had a glint to his eye not dissimilar to when Abolish had been assigned to Oakhurst.
Morcant smiled as he sipped his coffee, as if he knew what Abolish was thinking. It wasn’t impossible, with him.
“You will be infiltrating the ball, gathering what intelligence you can, taking out any targets you can get away with,” he said, lowering the cup. It was placed carefully onto a leather coaster, as to not mar the table. “You won’t be working alone, however.”
Abolish pursed his lips in order to stop the instinctual protest. As a rule, Abolish worked best on his own. Other people made things… messy. If Oakhurst could prove anything, it could prove that.
Still, humans weren’t let into such vampiric settings so easily, even in a servant capacity. This was a delicate, dangerous operation, and it followed that they would need a vampire operative to provide him an excuse to be there.
He didn’t like it, but Abolish was a professional first and foremost, and he could improvise. A coworker would not hinder his ability to do his job.
“A vampire, I presume?” Is what he finally settled on saying, his expression never once flickering to reveal his thought process.
“Naturally,” Morcant said. He brushed his finger along the edge of the file, but did not turn it over just yet. “The issue is that there is a specific requirement needed that none of our vampiric — or frankly, human — operatives fit.”
Abolish’s eyebrow rose, surprised. Internally, he suppressed a sigh. Here, now, was the unusualness of the situation being revealed to him painfully slowly, one layer at a time. He eyed the way Morcant still had not turned the file page, and reflected that perhaps vampires weren’t the only ones with a penchant for dramatics.
“The problem,” Morcant continued, taking Abolish’s silence as permission to continue speaking, “is that we would need an operative well versed enough in the politics and hierarchies of coven houses and elder vampires to blend in appropriately, that is not already associated with us.”
Ah. Yes, that would be a difficult find. Despite their best efforts, most of the head covens were aware of their existence, and even the identities of some of their older vampiric hunters. Vampires had long memories, after all, and it was inevitable that they notice when some of their own were systematically taking others out, even with the grace and subtlety that they did it with. Shadow organisations and vampires were both things of the night, and by their nature frequented the same places. One was bound to catch the eye of the other eventually.
“I’ll have to go alone, then,” Abolish said, allowing himself the barest sliver of hope even as he knew it was likely futile. Not with the way Morcant continued teasing the next page of the file, as his eye continued to glint. Abolish wondered what it was about him that seemed to make people feel the need to tie things up in suspense and melodrama, and if it was something that could be removed.
“Fortunately, that’s not the case, as we have found a highly ideal solution,” Morcant replied, finally leaving the file alone to take another sip of his coffee. “Someone both incredibly well-versed in vampiric hierarchy and nobility, but unaffiliated with us.”
He flipped the page.
The file was still facing Morcant and therefore upside down for Abolish, but even then he could clearly make out the word Goldsmith.
Abolish, despite himself, found he was genuinely taken by surprise, which was a shame, because he really should have seen this coming.
—
It had been six months since the events of Oakhurst.
The organisation had been very interested to learn from Abolish that Scott Goldsmith, an elder vampire from the days of the organisation’s infancy, and presumed dead for six hundred years, was both alive and as dangerous as he had been back then.
They had been just as interested to hear Scott’s request that Abolish stop him should he begin slipping back into his old ways, and had agreed to let Abolish undertake monitoring Scott as a secondary ongoing mission.
While unable to be watching him personally all of the time, Abolish had dipped into his contacts and the organisation’s resources to keep tabs on him from a distance whenever he was away.
In the meantime, all of Abolish’s missions had been strategically chosen to be in the vicinity of Scott — and by extension, Drift and Shelby — to allow him to tail them and monitor in between moments tracking and infiltrating the homes of other targets. So far, the three of them had been travelling between towns, the two girls doing their best to make good on their promise to show Scott what had changed since he had been cursed to sleep six hundred years ago, something Abolish vaguely remembered them discussing. So far, Scott had not stepped out of line, though Abolish suspected that was more the influence of the two woman by his side than the invisible threat of Abolish taking him out.
Though, Abolish suspected that the three of them thought the conditions to their deal were a lot stricter than they actually were. Abolish, after all, had only said he would step in if he needed to, and he was not in the business of unnecessary killing.
That was to say, Abolish could see how Scott would be a valuable asset to the organisation and an ideal candidate for this mission — which was why he was peeved he hadn’t been able to put it together himself. And if he was honest with himself, Abolish had just never expected to actually interact with the vampire again, barring only the worst case scenario. He had no idea how they would work together as a pair. All things considered, him and Scott hadn’t actually interacted all that much during their time in Oakhurst, and at the end of the day, they had only been allied a handful of hours. That made Scott an unpredictable variable.
Abolish wasn’t a fan of unpredictable variables.
—
“I wasn’t under the impression he had joined the organisation,” Abolish eventually settled on saying, mostly because he hadn’t. Abolish would know if he was — he checked all of the mail he received.
“This is more a once off situation,” Morcant said. “We sent a pigeon requesting help and explaining the mission, and he agreed quite readily.”
Using a pigeon, of course, lowered the risk of message interception that could come from going through the mailing system. It was a clever and logical workaround — the vampires getting wind of Scott’s working with the organisation defeated any point in using him in the first place. It just meant that Abolish also hadn’t been able to intercept the message, making him unaware of his involvement until now. He eyed Morcant, still perfectly kind and patient, save the glint in his eye. Hm.
“He hasn’t been trained,” he observed, knowing he at least had to point it out.
“No,” Morcant acknowledged, inclining his head, “but the skills he possesses that you described in your report will suffice. His charismatic nature and manipulative tendencies, while normally a risk, will be to our benefit.”
“And if he goes too far?”
Morcant smiled at him, and finally slid him the file, allowing him to take in the finer details and specifics of the mission himself.
“Then I trust you to handle it.”
—
The outfit given to Abolish was tragically similar to the stupid butler outfit he had worn in Oakhurst. However, this outfit was of finer make — more suited to nobility than a servant. Gone were the white gloves, and the white shirt was now a dark red linen. The sleeves of his jacket were cut so as to tastefully leave the pulse point in his wrists exposed, as was the vampiric fashion. To Abolish’s disappointment, he did have to remove his earring, clad in silver as it was. Instead, he was given a garnet hanging on a short black chain, like a drop of blood falling from his ear.
It would do.
He footsteps were silent as he walked briskly to the out of the way cottage an hour’s carriage ride from the ball. It was a convenient and understated rendezvous point to join up with Scott, typical of the type of meeting points he would use whenever he did have to work with someone. He made a quick circuit of the cottage to ensure no one was loitering or following them, then opened the door, no longer bothering to be silent. Most likely, Scott had heard the carriage pull up.
“Abolish,” a voice called. “How fun that we’re seeing each other again so soon.”
The singular room was bare in appearance, holding only an empty fireplace, a flickering lantern hanging from the wall, and a faded couch, where Scott was lounging. Like Abolish, he was dressed similarly to his attire in Oakhurst, save that Abolish noticed he traded the pieces for more modern counterparts. His cloak was draped carefully over the couch bedside him, and Abolish could see the inner lining of this one was a dark red fabric that must have cost a fortune.
Scott looked up to smile at him, exposing sharp fangs. In his lap was an extremely thick sheath of papers.
“Hey Scott,” Abolish responded casually, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. He gestured to the papers. “What are those?”
Scott sniffed, glancing down at them. “Never let it be said I’m not thorough,” he said. “These are all the politics and changes that have happened in vampiric society in the past six hundred years. I requested them when your organisation reached out to me.”
“Smart,” Abolish responded, causing Scott to preen, his grin only widening.
“Thank you, thank you, I know,” he said, flapping his hand at Abolish. He stood, putting the papers to the side, and plucked the cloak from the couch, swinging it over his shoulders and pinning it at the front.
“Is that everything?” Scott asked as he straightened it, careful to ensure if fell just so.
Abolish gestured to the papers. “Are you done with those?” He asked, and at Scott’s dismissive hand wave he crossed the room in a few steps. Grabbing the sheath of papers, he tossed them into the empty fireplace besides the couch. Since the beacons had been neutralised, the lantern thrash ability was considerably weaker, but it was enough that with the lantern on the wall he was able to turn the papers to ash in a few seconds. He made a sweep of the cottage with his eyes, but there was no other proof of them — or the organisation — and so he nodded, satisfied.
“That’s all,” he said, turning back to find Scott already watching him, unnaturally still now that he was no longer fiddling with his clothes. The atmosphere in the room seemed to sharpen as he strode towards Abolish. Scott was so rarely serious — suddenly, the fact that he was inhuman was undeniable, like a second coat he had taken off.
Abolish didn’t tense, simply watching him.
Scott stopped halfway through the room, observing Abolish for a moment. “It’s in fashion,” he began calmly, “for high ranking vampires to have a thrall or companion serving as a personal source of fresh blood throughout the ball. A symbol of status, if you will.” He paused, raising his eyebrows at Abolish.
“You’re saying I should act as your… blood companion?”
“Precisely — that way, no one will question your presence there, and you will be able to explore the venue freely. You would be under my protection, as no vampire with any shred of self preservation would feed from something that’s mine.”
Abolish hummed, tilting his head and pointedly ignoring the possessive. No unnecessary scrutiny would be ideal. However — “I’d prefer not to be dizzy from blood loss.”
Scott lips quirked, amused, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he said, “you’re taking me for some bloodthirsty monster, Abolish. Tut tut, I have better restraint than that.” He gestured to him, his expression almost kind. “I’d have to take a small amount now, just to make it clear you belong to me — temporarily, don’t worry, and perhaps once or twice at the ball to keep up appearances, but I won’t ever take enough to compromise you. I’m a good person now, remember?”
“I know,” Abolish said, and ignoring the flash of genuine surprise the crossed Scott’s face before it was wiped clean again, offered his wrist. “Do it quickly, then we can go.”
Immediately, Scott moved until he was right in front of him, slightly too fast for Abolish to properly track. He took Abolish’s wrist in a surprisingly gentle grasp, and bit down, his fangs sliding smoothly into Abolish’s skin.
Throughout, Scott didn’t break eye contact.
Abolish tensed instinctively against the initial sting, then consciously relaxed again. As he met Scott’s gaze, he was reminded, for a moment, of the last time someone drank from him. Unbidden, he saw flashes of a doctor, drenched in his own blood, grip too tight and teeth unpracticed in a way that hurt.
Then the moment ended, Scott releasing his hold and the memories folding themselves back into the recesses of his mind.
Neither Scott nor Abolish said anything for long moment, simply continuing to watch each other. They were twin statues, neither of letting a flicker of thought cross their face, carved from marble.
Then Scott smiled, his fangs red with Abolish’s blood, and extended an arm to him. “Well,” he said, eyes gleaming, “I think we have a party to crash.”
Abolish huffed a laugh despite himself, allowing Scott to link their arms. As one they turned, making their way towards the carriage, the sun just beginning to kiss the horizon, bathing them in golden light that crackled and hissed as it reached Scott.
Arm in arm, the vampire and the hunter made their way to ruin a ball.