AH collections

Slowly, then all at once, a dream (2)

Jeremwood
Word count: 6453
Chapters: 4

Impossible

Jeremy tossed and turned in his bed. He kept jerking awake, heart pounding, but couldn't remember what he'd been seeing. Something dangerous, he was certain.

On his chest, the blue flames of his Soulmark were faintly luminescent, another oddity he'd never heard of, and the fire flickered with something like agitation. He pressed an open palm over it, wanting so badly to soothe his other half, felt his own heartbeat thrumming steadily. The blue flames parted around his hand, curled back like it might actually burn him, but the fire soon surged back to his fingers, licking at him.

He always expected it to feel hot, but all he ever felt was his own skin, the Soulmark too much a part of him to have a separate sensation.

Jeremy flipped over, pressing his chest into his bed, and closed his eyes again. Even if his Soulmate wouldn't know either way, he didn't want to leave him out there alone.

Jeremy grasped at the threads of his own exhaustion and followed them determinedly into sleep.

Ryan was calm. His hands were steady, heart rate only slightly elevated, breathing fine. Calm.

He popped up over the hood of the car he'd been using for cover, squeezing off two shots before dropping back down amid a rain of returning fire.

Two shots, two dead.

These fools determined to waste every bullet they had were amateurs . Still too green to be able to do quality shooting, they were going for sheer quantity and hoping to get lucky.

They were panicked and erratic, two things the Vagabond never was. It paid to keep a cool head in a shootout.

He leaned around the trunk of the car, staying low and in the shadows, and took out three of the gang members while they all looked in the wrong spot.

A few of the living ones broke and ran, unnerved.

The cowards.

He smirked to himself. This was supposed to be a quick, one-kill hit, but the man who hired him had neglected to mention that the target had friends . No big deal, though. He was counting every corpse and planning to add them all to the bill.

A hand closed over his face and a gun shoved into his kidney.

In half a heartbeat, Ryan twisted free; the man squeezed off a single shot, and then died with a knife in his throat.

"Fuck," Ryan snarled to himself, his hand pressing briefly to his side. It came away bloody.

"Fuck," Jeremy snarled himself awake, heart thrumming erratically as he clutched at his side in panic.

He was fine.

Gasping for air, he pressed his fists into his eyes and let out a howl of anguish.

Shot, shot, he's been shot!

Tears streaked his face. He pressed both hands over his Soulmark, as if to cradle it.

"Please, be okay," he murmured, fear and regret flowing through him in waves. " Please ."

Ryan was leaving a trail, blood splatter in his wake, but he didn't care. He'd be fine, just a deep graze, but it hurt like a motherfucker and he was angry about it.

People didn't sneak up on the Vagabond. He'd been distracted, and it could have cost him his life.

He groaned as he threw a leg over his bike, the ache in his side flaring into sharp pain again at the motion.

Getting shot fucking sucked.

The drive to his nearest safehouse was a blur, between the blood loss and draining adrenaline. But he made it in one piece and patched himself up with steady hands.

After a painful and careful shower, Ryan sat on the bed and turned his burner phone over and over in his hands, thinking.

The man who hired him fucked up.

Big time.

Got him shot. There's a new hole in his jacket he was gonna have to fix. He got blood on his bike.

And he was free tomorrow, he could fill that time with a nice torture-murder.

Or he could threaten the man into more money. A lot more money. No one short-changes the Vagabond, after all.

He grinned to himself as he flipped open the old phone. It rang twice before a man answered.

"Vagabond," the voice greeted him, amicably enough.

"My price went up, Ramsey. Your target wasn't alone," he growled, putting that extra gravel in his voice to help mask it.

"Ah, fuck," Ramsey muttered. Ryan could hear him rubbing his face, the soft rasp of stubble under his fingers. "Sorry, buddy. I didn't think he had time to bring in backup."

Ryan blinked in surprise. Sorry? Who the hell did this guy think he was, apologizing ? People don't apologize in this bloody, backstabbing business.

He just grunted in response to Ramsey. What was he supposed to say? No problem ?

"I'll make sure you're adequately, uh, compensated , for the extra bullshit. It'll be in your account by morning. Thank you, by the way. See ya around!" Ramsey hung up.

Ryan just stared down at his phone in shock. Did Ramsey think they were friends ? He. He thanked the Vagabond? What the fuck?

"Well, I guess I won't kill you, then," he murmured to himself, incredulous. Whatever .

The guy's gonna get himself killed, being nice to assassins.

With a snort at his own thought, Ryan crawled into bed.

For once, he fell asleep quickly.

Jeremy frowned at himself in his bathroom mirror. His eyes were sunken bruises in his face, and bloodshot. He looked almost as tired as he felt.

He'd spent the rest of the night desperately trawling the internet for news of the Vagabond.

He was praying to every deity he'd ever heard of that no news was good news.

He was ready. Ready to find the Vagabond, ready to face the frightening man and show him the skull on his chest, to grab him and hang on tight. He was ready.

bang bang bang

"Come on, Jere, we've got that job at First National today, we can't be late!"

Matt.

Fuck, Jeremy forgot about work. Had been too upset and afraid all night.

"Just a minute!" He shouted back, leaning out of the bathroom. He rushed to get ready, grabbing his gear. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't miss today, not this job.

The First National Bank of Achievement City was a Big Deal, and they would be paying them plenty for their work.

He flung open the door to find Matt frowning and tapping away at his phone, fingers flying over the screen. The taller man looked up at him as he stepped out.

"Damn man, you look like shit!"

"Yeah, thanks," Jeremy grumbled, shouldering past him. "Let's go and get this over with."