Hellfire

Interval Nineteen

Lucius' body was tight, muscles flexing and his teeth thick the moment he surfaced from the bats in his house, leaving behind Susan and her heated voice, lingering in him sensually, teasingly reminding him what he wanted. Something had shifted in her – something that made her more open with him since she woke. She was calling for him now, a tentative, sensual whisper he couldn't ignore.

He forced himself to focus on his surroundings of the woods to settle himself. He took in the stench of moss and winter frost to replace her scent of summer and smoke, listening to the dribbling rain spattering through leaves, the heavy breath of Arnold and his thick paws sinking into the earth as he prowled around, protecting him, to shake her voice that haunted him.

Yet, Lucius still couldn't see. His eyes were cutting themselves repeatedly and blood spilled from them, soaking into the cloth meant to help with their healing. But the longer he was from Susan, the more his impaired sight irritated him. Throughout their conversation, he hadn't been able to see her once. It made him all the more frustrated, more desperate to touch her and feel the heat of her skin, to drink in the shape of her, and inhale her wild scent of hot embers. Every flutter of her pulse that brushed by his ears, every word she breathed, just made him want to be done with the curse. He desired to see her more than anything, the little teeth she'd bare, her fury, the silver in her eyes, and the mouth he burned to kiss. He had her close, yet couldn't touch her, couldn't see her. He couldn't think of her. Hear her. Any whisper of her made the curse tighten its hold over his eyes. It was maddening.

He flexed with control and slid his hand through his frosting hair. He could be rid of this curse now; just shatter it and dive straight to her. It something he longed to do, especially when he sensed a shift in her and recalled that image of her against his chest. She was warming to him, the fear dampening, willing to love him even if she didn't want to admit it, and that simple desire of hers to be in contact with him had jolted through him, a stroke of lightning in his blood. But he needed to use it. To protect her and himself, he needed to turn it against the one who cursed him.

'Everything alright, Sir?' Arnold rumbled.

Lucius felt his approach, scented Indian spice and wet-cat just as Arnold bumped his head against his knee.

'I'm fine.' Lucius replied icily.

'It doesn't sound like it.' Arnold pointed out with ease. 'Have you made no head way?'

'Some.'

There was a heavy thump as Arnold slumped his large body into the earth, resting by Lucius' feet. 'Don't rush it. We don't want the criminal to know.' He warned. 'I know you wish to be with Susan, but you need patience.'

Something he seemed to struggle with when it came to her.

Especially when she wanted him to hold her.

'Watch the surroundings.' Lucius ordered.

He didn't wait for Arnold to respond, he just locked his fingers together and focused on the curse crusting his eyes. It was slippery, which he expected. The one who was making these parasite witches had shown their strength in the power of their Palebloods and their ability to hide. So, Lucius pushed back harder, snatched at the thinnest tendrils of the curse that tied it to its caster, gathering up until there was a thicker, heavy road to follow, something even a child could find. So, Lucius followed deeper and deeper, unwinding the defences that the curser implemented with care and subtlety, until, eventually, he began to get flashes. Thoughts. Emotions.

There was a sting of old magic. Not as old as his, not as pure, not from when vampires were little more than demons, things that made humans terrified of the night, but it was pure. The deeper he pushed, the hum of magic grew and grew. Thoughts began to linger in his mind. His name specifically. Susan. Obsession. A desire to make him bend. To break him. To stand above him. Pride, steeled and ancient, refusing to bow and refusing to ignore insults, loomed around him. Threatening him. Threatening his bride.