Chapter Text
James “Logan” Howlett's Journal
29th of September – Explored Westchester castle by daylight. No graveyard on the grounds. Found no entrance to a crypt either. Locals are not very helpful. They avoid me at the inn I'm staying at and give me wary looks. Only the castles grounds keeper, tall young lad by the name of Hank McCoy, was willing to talk to me at all. Denied any rumours about the castle's owner being anything but human though. Also kept an eye on me the whole time and kept me from entering the building itself. Will try my luck in the late afternoon. Hope to make the kill before nightfall.
♦
Logan stood in front of the castle, the stone building with its high ivychoked tower and small high windows looked imposing against the blue sky. It was later than he'd hoped for, only an hour away from sunset The grounds-keeper, Hank, had been busy around the circular front court with its fountain and gravel path and only retired to the little cottage standing to one side some minutes before.
He hadn't minded Logan looking around the outside, and even showed him the apple orchard, but he'd been very clear he would not allow anyone into the castle without the Lord's permission. And said Lord was currently 'not at home'. A blatant lie, but calling him out on it hadn't done any good.
“This Lord of yours, he's a vampire.”
“Don't be absurd. Vampires don't exist!”
Diplomacy wasn't Logan's forte. But killing vampires was. There was still enough daylight left to find the creature and kill it before it woke, and even if finding its resting place took longer, this wouldn't be the first vampire Logan had faced while the vampire was awake and very much objecting to having a stake driven through its heart.
Logan checked his equipment. He adjusted the pressure from the little Holy Water tank he carried, so the pistols hanging low from his belt were fully operational. Then he made sure he could quickly reach them under his long leather coat, before he hefted the heavy rifle, fully loaded with wooden stakes.
Satisfied that he was ready to take on whatever lurked in the castle, he took the steps leading up to the large wooden door. He threw one last look towards the grounds keepers cottage, hopefully Hank wouldn't make a fuss once the vampire had been sent to its eternal rest. He didn't expect any thanks, but not being chased by a human brandishing a scythe, hay-fork or other nasty gardening tool would be nice.
Logan reached for his lock-picks and inserted a likely one into the lock. Before he could even try and fiddle with it, the door swung open. Logan quickly stepped aside. He had his back against the stone arch of the entrance and pointed the rifle towards the gloomy entrance hall, ready for any nasty surprises.
Inside nothing moved.
Probably the door hadn't been locked in the first place and the vampire actually counted on some thieves stumbling into his castle at night for him to suck them dry. A grim smile appeared on Logan's lips and he slowly edged into the large entrance hall. At its centre stood a round wooden table. The ceiling was high and brass chandeliers hung from it. There were candlesticks in place, but none were lit. Right opposite the entrance a large staircase led up to the first floor. He noted the heavy drapes hanging there, hiding what probably was a large window. To the left and right dark corridors loomed, leading deeper into the building.
From what he had been able to deuce from the outside, the kitchens where towards the left. Since the place didn't seem to have any sort of chapel or crypt, the vampire would be holed up somewhere in the cellars and the kitchens were the most likely place to have stairs leading down there. Habit kept him with his back to the wall, as he crept towards the left side, not discounting Hank, who might have decided to creep up on him and deal with the intruder before his master woke.
Logan had just reached the corridor and tried to see what lay ahead. He blinked. It suddenly was a lot darker. Suddenly Logan heard footsteps descending the staircase. He turned, keeping the rifle pointed in the general direction, trying to make out details in the dark.
The candles flared to life, bathing the entrance hall in a warm glow and leaving Logan's eyes struggling to adjust again. There was a young man, maybe a head smaller than Logan, it was hard to tell, with him standing on the stairs. Nevertheless he had something imposing about him.
His brown hair was a bit long, and looked like he had just dragged his fingers through it instead of combing it. But he was perfectly dressed in a white shirt and cravat and a waistcoat of dark blue with a black pattern and silver buttons. It complimented his eyes, that were blue like the clearest sunlit sky. Logan found it difficult to look away from them.
“Who are you?” This couldn't be the vampire.
The man smiled and Logan's gaze was drawn to the red lips. “Should I not ask you that, since you came into my house, uninvited.”
The impulse to move forward to the foot of the stairs and apologise was strong. Logan took a step before he caught himself. This – this beautiful creature, had to be the vampire. Regardless of innocent blue eyes and the fact that the sun had not set yet. Or had it? No, it was only dark inside because the door must have fallen shut. Suddenly Logan was unsure and he risked a quick glance towards the door, that still stood open. Outside the last red light of the setting sun was replaced by grey shadows. This couldn't be, he hadn't been in here for that long.
As he looked back, the vampire no longer was on the stairs, but stood beside the table. Logan pointed the rifle at him.
“And now you are pointing a weapon at me, how rude, Logan.”
“How do you know my name?” He should just shoot, not engage in conversation with the vampire he came here to kill. The thought was clear and urgent, still he couldn't bring his fingers to squeeze down on the trigger.
“You told me.”
Logan shook his head. He was sure he hadn't said anything. But then he had been certain that it wasn't night yet.
“You – you are doing something to me.”
“Not yet. But I'm planning on it very soon. Come here, and put your weapons on the table.” The vampire patted the large polished table surface with a hand.
“No!” Despite his protest, Logan found himself walking to the table and placing his weapons there. Not only the rifle and the holy water guns and the holy-water-container belt, but also the knifes and stakes hidden about his person under his coat, in his boots.
“That's much better. You can leave your coat here too.” The vampire waited for Logan to take it off and put it down beside his weapons.
“Please, call me Charles. It is so rude when you think of me as 'the vampire'. And there is no reason we can't be civilised with each other.”
“You read my mind, you - “ Obviously he was able to control him, but Logan didn't want to voice it out loud, worrying if he said it, it would become more real.
“Yes – and yes. But come along now and we can talk.” Charles licked his lips suggestively, implying something else than just talk.
“I hope you'll choke on my blood.”
“If we disregard the fact that technically I can't choke since I don't need air, I can think of more fun things to choke on.” And then his gaze dropped down to Logan's crotch. If his body had still been under his control, Logan would have taken a startled step back. The vampire must bee joking, or rather toying with him, like a cat with a mouse.
“Charles.”
“What?”
“My name is Charles. I seem to have to remind you.” He looked offended, then his mouth twitched as if he found something amusing. “But of course I do. Lets go to somewhere more comfortable so we can talk.”
“What is it you want to talk about?” No vampire had ever wanted to talk to him. Taunt him maybe, when a fight with the creature seemed to go in favour of the bloodsucker. By rights Charles – the vampire!, should want him dead. He had come here to end his undead life after all. Of course if the vampire had it so easy with controlling him, he might not feel any urgency in having to kill him. But what else could he want?
“You are very stubborn, and you're lucky I enjoy your stubbornness.” Charles started walking up the stairs and Logan was unable to do anything but follow him. He turned his head, glad to find he had still that much control, and looked back at his weapons, spread out uselessly on the table.
“You won't need them.”
“I came here to kill you!”
“I know. But once the night has run through, you will not want to do that anymore.”
“Why should I not want to kill you. You're a - “
“-vampire. And you hunt vampires. I know. But have you ever taken the time to really talk to a vampire?”
“You always seem too busy sucking innocent people dry, so no.”
Charles stopped and looked back at him, dragged his tongue across his lips, before saying in a suggestive tone. “I'm not sucking anyone – at the moment. So come and talk to me.”
Again the blatant flirting took Logan aback. For that's what it was. Flirting! Or at least, that's what it sounded like. He shook his head. This, the vampire – Charles – was impossible. Still he had no choice but to follow him. He tried to take stock of his surroundings though. All the windows were hidden behind curtains, but he had seen from outside that none of them were barred. There was furniture, enough chairs with wooden legs, easily broken off and used as a stake. Not ideal, but -
“Don't you think it discourteous thinking up ways of how to kill your host who, I might add, has done nothing so far that might harm you.”
“Yeah, but that might change any moment, right,” Logan said with a huff.
“I admit we have a bit of a – reputation. But please sit down.”
They had entered a large living room. Candles were already burning and emphasized the warm cream-golden hue the furniture and wallpaper gave off. The books, maps and random pieces of paper scattered about, as well as cushions and blankets, made it appear almost normal, like someone actually lived here, in the true sense of the word.
Despite the vampire's words Logan noted he didn't feel compelled to sit down as he had felt to follow him. He crossed the arms in front of his chest and kept standing.
Charles looked at him and smiled amused. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“You do have anything normal?” The question was out before he could stop it. He hadn't meant to make any conversation. Yet the idea of a vampire having something to drink in his home – lair – like a normal person would, was too strange.
“Despite what you might think, I have neither bottles of blood stored away in my home, nor humans chained up in the wine-cellar in some macabre twist of its disposition.” Charles opened a cupboard and fetched a bottle and glass from it, pouring some liquid into the glass and then setting it onto a small table, close to a large, plush settee. He put the bottle beside it, then settled into a big armchair on the opposite.
Logan could smell the whisky in the glass from where he stood. Charles, the vampire, wouldn't be able to drink it, so it would be a waste to keep it just standing there.
Charles looked at him, waiting politely, like any normal human host would. He could make Logan sit down, he had shown as much, but he didn't. The longer Logan looked at Charles, the more he noticed other things. How the candlelight sent lights dancing in his blue eyes, how it shone on Charles' lips, that he kept licking constantly.
Hell, he needed something to drink. The whole encounter was just too strange.
Logan settled onto the settee and took a long sip from the glass, not bothering to put it back down. He needed something to keep hold on. A potential weapon, a small part of his mind whispered defiantly.
“And neither will I demand a drink in return for that whisky. You are free to drink the entire bottle.” Charles leant a little forward. “Though if you are offering, then I wouldn't say no to getting a taste. ”
Seeing Logan tense up, Charles chuckled.
“This is all just a game to you, isn't it?”
“In a way. After some time you take the small diversities as they come. But you know about that, don't yo, Logan. About time passing without effecting you.”
The thoughts, 'how does he know' and 'of course he knows' appeared in his mind at the same time. The vampire could get into his mind, so who knew what he could uncover like that. Logan's best kept secrets were easily picked up by him.
“This is why you hunt vampires, is it not? Because you need a challenge, because otherwise life would be boring.”
“I actually like boring.” Logan emptied his glass. “But vampires kill humans. Someone needs to do something about that.”
“Hm. Humans kill humans. And there are more humans out there than vampires. Isn't it rather because we are different, that we are labelled monsters? And what about you, don't humans call you a monster, once they find out the truth about you?”
Logan blinked. He shouldn't have drunk the whisky that fast, it seemed to be clouding his judgement, for Charles' words were making sense, in a way. And it was true, once they found out, people distrusted him. “It's not the same.” He tried to object, though his tone lacked the proper conviction.
“No? But look at me, do I really appear so different from any other human.”
Logan looked, he couldn't not. Charles could blend in at any gathering of Lords and Ladies, and yet he would stand out. The way his pale skin looked so soft with its dusting of golden freckles that tempted Logan to try and see if he could brush them off. His blue eyes compelling to come close and look, trying to figure out if one could see down to their bottom like in a clear lake.
“Yes.” He pressed his lips together to stop himself from adding 'because you're beautiful.' He shivered at the thought. Charles was beautiful, but also a monster. A monster he needed to kill. But the urge to touch him seemed to grow stronger by the moment.
Suddenly Charles was right beside him, licking his lips, blood red but looking more like they might taste sweet as cherries.
“Would you like some?”
Logan reached out to touch Charles' lips. He did not just offer - ?
“The other.”
“What?”
“The other hand.”
Logan did as he was told, confused, since he still held a glass in that one. Charles' fingers closed around his, steadying the glass, then he poured more whisky into it. Charles' hand wasn't as cold as Logan thought it would be and though his skin was soft, his grip was strong. Logan shifted in his seat, more aware that this was not how this should go. Finally Charles put the bottle down, but kept his hand clasping Logan's.
“Or would you have wanted something else?”
Logan tried hard not to think about Charles' mouth, or the things he'd said.
His attention was pulled towards Charles' hand on his, as Charles tugged it along with the glass, closer to his mouth. Logan frowned confused, for he knew, vampires could not drink anything but blood. Regardless Charles' lips touched the glass and he moved Logan's hand so he could drink, just a small sip. Finally he plucked the glass from Logan's unresisting hand and put it aside. Then he moved forward, pressed his lips against Logan's, making sure he tilted back his head, burying his hand in Logan's hair at the back of his neck.
Charles' lips tasted of whisky and before Logan could think he opened his mouth. The alcohol trickled from Charles' mouth, making Logan's tongue burn pleasantly. Then Charles sucked on Logan's lips before he deepened the kiss.
This was wrong, but it also felt right and in the end Logan found himself on his back on the settee, with Charles straddling him, a delicious weight pushing him down. Charles' hands traced restlessly along Logan's throat to his shirt, starting to undo buttons so his cool fingers could touch more warm skin. The look he gave Logan was intense.
“Have you ever wondered what drinking your blood could do to a vampire? The blood of someone who does not die. It's like – life – without the acrid flavour of death.”
“No.” This had gone too far, this was wrong. He would never let a vampire bite him, not without a fight. Logan pushed himself back up into a sitting position and only ended with Charles in his lap, closer than before.
“I know what you're thinking.”
“That I will kill you.”
The statement left Charles unfazed. He pulled one of Logan's hands up, pressing it against his unbeating heart. “That you want to push a stake through my heart.” He let go of Logan's hand, who didn't pull it back, while Charles' hands moved lower down Logan's belly, fingers slowly curled into his shirt, pulling it up and out his his trousers. His hand moved over Logan's belly, the touch sending sparks of excitement along his skin and slid into his trousers. “And that you also want to push your cock in me and fuck me.”
The crude words made desire unfurl low inside him. Logan huffed as Charles wrapped his fingers around his already swelling cock. The touch was cool, but not unpleasant so, leaving his skin prickling with heat.
Charles made quick work of unfastening Logan's trousers, then licked his hand, so he could better stroke him. “All I want in return is some of your blood.”
Logan closed his eyes, trying to think, but his fingers were already unbuttoning Charles' waistcoat and he wondered if Charles' body would grow warmer if he would let him drink.
“What if I say no?” Logan unbuttoned Charles' shirt next.
“No?” Charles sounded amused. He had both hands working Logan's cock which was undeniably hard and leaking pre-come.
Logan gritted his teeth and looked Charles' in the eyes. “Yes. What if I tell you I will not let you take my blood?”
Charles returned Logan's gaze and the intensity raised goosebumps over Logan's body. “Then I would ask you to at least let me feel your blood pulsing in me as you fuck me.”
Logan grabbed Charles at the open shirt to pull him close and kiss him. He could feel the sharp incisors growing in length and Charles moaned, trying to pull away.
“I'm sorry, this is out of my control.” Charles pressed his mouth close, but Logan had made up his mind. He moved forward, licking across those red lips until they trembled and almost felt warm.
“I didn't say 'no'. I merely asked.”
Charles eyes widened and Logan took advantage of the moment when Charles' lips softened to claim his mouth again. He flinched but otherwise ignored the pain as his tongue scraped against sharp teeth.
At the same time Charles moaned at the first taste of Logan's blood. His pupils were blown wide and a shiver ran through his body. Logan drew back a little, observing Charles' face. A predatory look had settled on him, still he held back, looked like he was in control. Slowly Logan pushed the shirt and waistcoat from Charles' shoulders.
Charles gave Logan's cock a little squeeze, before letting go so he could get out of the clothes. Logan stared as Charles stretched, muscles rippling under pale skin. He wanted to lick and kiss all of Charles. “Get out of those trousers.”
For a moment Charles looked like he meant to protest, but then he got up and shed the last of his clothing. Logan made quickly to follow suit with his own. But instead of returning, Charles stepped away.
Logan growled but before he could form a more coherent protest, Charles came back. He carried a phial he had picked up from one of the small cupboards, from which he poured something that looked like oil into his hand before he stoppered it. He pressed it into Logan's hand, then was in his lap again and kissing him, while he wrapped his slick hand around Logan's cock. Logan put his arms around him and pulled him closer. Charles sucked at his lips, then pulled back. He licked his lips and Logan could see his sharp incisors. Charles tilted his head and moved to Logan's neck.
A moan escaped Logan's mouth as Charles sank sharp teeth into his skin and flesh. In his arms Charles trembled as he sucked blood from the wound that started healing quickly. His teeth grazed over Logan's skin and he bit down again.
Each time Charles bit him, pain shot through Logan but as soon as Charles started sucking his blood, lust cursed through him, mingling with the pain, making him groan and growl. Logan couldn't tell what felt petter, the sucking and biting or feeling how it effected Charles. He ran one hand over Charles' smooth skin, cupping his arse and pushing him closer.
For a moment Logan fumbled with the phial he'd had held tightly in one hand. He was sure he spilled some as he coated his fingers and couldn't care less if the stopper was wedged in tight enough before he dropped it on the carpet. He was far more concerned in letting his fingers slide across Charles' arse, probing at his hole.
Charles' chuckle vibrated across his skin. “You don't have to take it slow and careful.”
“I want to.” Logan started pushing just the tip of his finger in and out, wondering if Charles' could get as much pleasure from this as he did from sucking his blood. He found the first hint of an answer as Charles started to push demandingly back.
Logan was still determined to take his time. Charles kept stroking him while he sunk his teeth once more into Logan's flesh. He jerked his hips, thrusting into Charles' warm hand. Charles' warm breath spilled against Logan's skin, wet from Charles' saliva where he sucked and licked up Logan's blood. Then there was a heartbeat.
It took Logan by surprise. It was almost like Charles suddenly feeling more alive in his arms reminded him that he was in fact not. He stopped moving his fingers, now buried fully in Charles' arse and looked confused at him.
Charles squirmed then lifted his head from Logan's shoulder to look at him. Even his cheeks looked flushed, the only thing at odds being the small trickle of blood running from the corner of his lips, quickly swiped away as he ran his tongue across it. “You taste so good.” The words were a harsh whisper, spoken around too long teeth. “Make me feel. Make me feel alive, Logan.”
Logan inhaled deeply, Charles' words sending a shiver down through his body straight to his cock. He drew back his fingers and gently pushed Charles down on the settee, pulling up his legs so they could rest on his shoulders.
He looked at him, truly looked. Charles' eyes were glassy his skin feverish and flushed. He looked human. Vulnerable and desperate, craving something only Logan could give him. Not even his sharp teeth could destroy that image.
Logan took hold of his own cock and started pushing into Charles.
Charles quivered, his hands grabbed hold of Logan's shoulders but it feels more like he is urging him on to put it all inside. Logan pushed in further, until he was fully sheathed inside Charles, who bit his own lip and groaned in pleasure. 'Good!' The word hung like a soft sigh between them and Logan' couldn't decide if it was his own thought or Charles'.
It took all the self-control he could muster, but he pulled out slowly, waited for a moment with Charles stretching just around the head of his cock, before he pushed in just as painstakingly slow. Charles had asked him to make him feel alive and he would make sure he felt all of it.
Charles' fingers tightened around his shoulders and his moan hitched in his throat, the sound sending delicious shivers through Logan's body. Spurred on by the sound Logan continued to fuck Charles slowly. The pain of Charles' fingers on his shoulders burnt sharply all of a sudden and Charles pulled back one hand. Logan could see blood on Charles' fingers before he stuck them into his mouth, greedily sucking on them.
The sight was too much, Logan's thrusts became faster more forceful and Charles arched into them. He took his fingers from his mouth, small groans and gasps escaping, and pulled and tugged at Logan, clearly wanting him close. Instead Logan stopped for a moment and pulled Charles up against himself, so he sat impaled on his cock.
“Yes, oh good...” Charles buried his hands in Logan's hair while his teeth tore into Logan's neck, greedily licking up the blood. Logan grasped Charles' arse and started thrusting into him, until Charles picked up on it and started moving along lifting himself up and pushing down.
Logan moved his hands to Charles' waist to better hold him in check and control the rhythm of each thrust. Each time Charles buried his teeth into Logan's flesh, adding a delirious whirlpool of sharp pain and sparking pleasure to the delicious sensation of thrusting his cock into Charles' tight arse.
Charles moans turned to a mindless chant of 'more-more-more', making Logan wish this would never end, that they could stay locked like this in an endless night of pleasure.
Logan thrust up as orgasm hit him him. His grip tightened to keep Charles in place, wanting him to feel Logan coming hot inside him. Something wet splatters against his belly and he notices dazed that Charles had come too, panting harsh breaths and his heart hammering in his chest.
Charles kissed him, long and slow. His mouth was warm and Logan found it easy to ignore the aftertaste of blood.
♦
Logan woke in a bed. The memory of how he had gotten here was hazy. He tried to turn around and found his feet tangled with the soft silken sheets. He tried to wriggle his legs free and finally gave up with a sigh. Sitting up, he reached for the sheets instead and had to stop moving as a wave of dizziness rolled over him. He was more careful afterwards but finally was able to push the sheets back and slid to the edge of the bed. He no longer felt like staying there.
In the dim light of the room he observed his arms. There was nothing to see but the memory was still clear in his mind. Charles had been insatiable, craving more of Logan's touch as well as his blood after the first orgasm. Now there was no trace left on him that indicated that Charles had broken his skin with his sharp incisors – or that Logan had finally used a claw to tear his skin open along a vein as he was healing too quickly, so Charles could lick the blood from him.
He remembered how Charles' body had grown searing hot under his touch, how he had moaned and laughed when Logan had fucked him, how he'd felt – alive.
Holding on to the sturdy wooden bed frame Logan pushed himself to his feet. His belly grumbled, in need for something to eat after being drained of so much energy last night. Yet Logan kept standing there for a little longer, staring at the rumpled bed. The heavy curtains pulled across the high windows only dimmed down the bright daylight, but let in enough light to see by. There were bloodstains, dried along the less visible stains of semen, speaking loudly of what had happened here last night.
Only Charles wasn't there.
Of course he wasn't, he was...
Logan looked down at his hands. It was day and he was in the vampires' castle. There was something he was supposed to do.
The memory of Charles' harsh whisper echoed through him. “Make me feel. Make me feel alive, Logan.”
He could not kill him. It felt like finally admitting to something he had known since he had first laid eyes on Charles. But he also couldn't stay.
He looked around the room, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen. Then he remembered, that he had taken them off even before they came to the bedroom. He tried to orientate himself and headed through the door he believed would take him to the living-room. He stopped in the doorway, startled, taking in the bright sun shining through the tall window. Even more shocked him the figure standing there, naked body bathed in sunlight.
So not only could Logan himself not die, his blood made a vampire truly immortal? Would his wound heal if he drove a stake through his heart now?
“I need to go.”
Charles turned away from the window, a smile on his red lips. For a moment Logan wavered in his decision, as his gaze swept across the freckled skin, still pale but with a rosy shine to it, that invited him to touch.
“I see. I hoped...” Charles lifted a hand and looked at it while he moved it, letting the sun touch it this way and that. “This isn't permanent, you know.”
Logan wasn't sure if he felt relieved or sad. No. He surely was relieved. Charles was powerful as it was, if he could walk outside during day... Logan balled his hands to fists, ready to slide out claws in defence. And Charles could just force him to stay with a thought, lock him up or take any will to leave, from him.
Charles laughed, and it sounded almost sad. “Logan, I tried to tell you, I'm not a monster. I would love it if you wanted to stay, but I won't force you.” He stepped up to Logan and as he pressed his body up against Logan's, Logan couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around Charles, pulling his smaller body against his.
Charles reached up to pull him down for a kiss. Logan cupped Charles' firm arse in his hands, squeezing it.
“Fuck me! One last time, in the sunshine. Make me feel alive!” Charles wrapped his legs around Logan, pulling himself up rubbing himself against Logan's hardening cock.
Logan grunted and carried Charles over to the cushioned window-seat. He could always leave later...
♦
Logan got up from the floor where now pillows and a blanket from the window-seat were strewn haphazardly. Charles lay there, sprawled in the sunlight, eyes closed.
The floor underneath his feet seemed to sway slightly, but Logan tried to ignore the light-headedness. He really needed to eat and rest properly. Absently he scratched at his neck, were again the bite-marks had already healed.
“I need to go now.”
Charles hadn't moved, yet with Logan's words he seemed to grow even more still, almost like frozen. Finally he opened his eyes and looked up. Logan was certain now that not even the sky was as blue as Charles' eyes.
“I'll just stay here a moment longer.”
Logan nodded, then started collecting his clothes. He found water to clean himself with in the kitchen and finally emerged fully dressed in the entrance hall to the castle. Charles wasn't there, but resolutely Logan started strapping on his weapons, putting on his coat and finally shouldering his rifle.
“Thank you.”
Logan turned as he heard Charles' voice. Charles had only pulled on shirt and trousers and walked barefoot down the stairs, stopping once he had reached him.
“No need.” Logan shrugged.
Charles smiled. “Not for the blood or the sex. But for thinking me beautiful.”
Logan was tempted to reach out, but he knew, if he did, he might stay.
Charles made to touch him, but then drew back his hand.
This was for the best!
“Farewell Charles.”
He turned away and walked to the door, only turning around to close it behind himself. He glimpsed Charles still standing there, a sweet smile on his lips.
♦
James “Logan” Howlett's Journal
29th of November – Morning. Was approached by a strange young woman while having breakfast at the inn. People here seemed as wary of her as they are of me, despite her trying to hide what she was underneath a wide coat and hood. She had blue skin and scales and red hair. Introduced herself as Raven. First I thought she might be sent from the Guild, but couldn't spot any equipment for vampire hunting on her.
She told me, I was in danger and should leave here immediately. When I told her I still had unfinished business to attend to, she said: “You will never kill him. But even though you appear impossible to kill and have lived longer than your appearance would suggest,” she did not tell me how she knew, “he might manage to kill you in the end. Or worse, destroy you.” I had so many questions, but when I pressed her to be more concrete she left. The only other thing she said was: “Please, consider my warning. I cannot tell you more, except, the answer is in your journal.”
Logan put the pen down and looked at his journal. Whatever could she have meant? From the information he had gathered, the local vampire had been living here for some time, he couldn't be one Logan had encountered earlier. Apart from the fact, that all those were dead.
A frown creased his forehead. Or so he thought. Had he been mistaken, had he left one alive, by accident, mistakenly killed only one when there were two vampires present? He couldn't remember any encounters that had left him with some kind of doubt.
He shook his head. Instead of worrying about the words from a stranger he should head out and head for the castle. If he was lucky he could find the vampire's lair before the sun set and bring this to a quick end.
Just as he was about to pack away his pen and journal, there was a knock at the door. It startled him enough that he stood up a bit too quickly, swiping his journal to the ground. Somehow this woman, Raven, had managed to get to him more than he would like to admit.
“Yes?” he called out, still agitated.
“I've got the lunch package you asked for ready.” It was only the innkeepers wife.
Logan took a deep breath and bent down to pick up his journal. “Thank you.” Something caught his eye. “I'll come pick it up...” His voice trailed off and he didn't hear what she said in answer, as his eyes scanned the journal entry, written in his own handwriting.
27th of November – Explored Westchester castle by daylight. No graveyard on the grounds. Found no entrance to a crypt either. Locals are not very helpful. They avoid me at the inn I'm staying at and give me wary looks. Only the castles grounds keeper, tall young lad by the name of Hank McCoy, was willing to talk to me at all. Denied any rumours about the castle's owner being anything but human though. Also kept an eye on me the whole time and kept me from entering the building itself. Will try my luck in the late afternoon. Hope to make the kill before nightfall.
He had no memory of this. He had only arrived yesterday. He had written a brief entry about the uneventful journey by train, then switching to a stagecoach to get to the tiny village close to the castle. With shaking fingers he leaved back to find the one before.
25th of November – Explored Westchester castle by daylight. No graveyard on the grounds. Found no entrance to a crypt either. Locals are not very helpful. They avoid me at the inn I'm staying at and give me wary looks. Only the castles grounds keeper, tall young lad by the name of Hank McCoy, was willing to talk to me at all. Denied any rumours about the castle's owner being anything but human though. Also kept an eye on me the whole time and kept me from entering the building itself. Will try my luck in the late afternoon. Hope to make the kill before nightfall.
And the one before that...
23th of November – Explored Westchester castle by daylight. No graveyard on the grounds. Found no entrance to a crypt either. Locals are not very helpful. They avoid me at the inn I'm staying at and give me wary looks. Only the castles grounds keeper, tall young lad by the name of Hank McCoy, was willing to talk to me at all. Denied any rumours about the castle's owner being anything but human though. Also kept an eye on me the whole time and kept me from entering the building itself. Will try my luck in the late afternoon. Hope to make the kill before nightfall.
The entries went back days, weeks, months... All the same, exactly the same! Logan dropped the journal, staggered to the wash basin that stood in the corner of the small room and splashed his face with cold water. He stared at the mirror, then, though he knew it was useless, he pulled aside the collar of his shirt, checking his neck. But his ability to heal quickly, meant he bore no marks, even if the vampire had caught him.
“You will never kill him. - he might manage to kill you in the end. Or worse, destroy you.” Raven's words suddenly became more imminent and foreboding. He looked at his bag, stored away on top of the narrow wardrobe. He could be packed and on his way in a couple of minutes. His gaze fell on his weapons and he pressed his lips together in grim determination.
♦
Logan had the rifle pointed at the vampire, standing on the stairs. It looked composed and calm, as if Logan's presence in his home was neither a surprise nor a threat.
Well it wasn't, Logan had to remind himself. His grip on the rifle tightened, his fingers pressed down on the trigger. In the last moment he pulled the rifle to the side and the wooden stake buried itself in the wooden stairs at the vampire's feet.
“I see. So Raven paid you a visit.” He came closer. Logan was unable to move, unable to defend himself, all he could do was observe. The blue eyes, so bright as the sky on a sunny day, the pale skin, that had a golden shine to it, caused by a dusting of freckles that even eternal night could not eradicate from the skin and lips as red as blood.
Finally the vampire stopped right in front of him and looked up, blood red lips curving in a smile, wicked and sweet at the same time. “I wish you had decided to stay on your own. But so be it. You must understand, I cannot risk you leaving me.”
Charles cupped Logan's face in cold hands and kissed him. Logan could taste whiskey, cherries and warm sunshine, he heard laughter, felt soft sheets gliding against his body. A word shone bright in his mind.
'Beautiful.'