The Sorrows of Midnight

Chapter Four

                                                                                    Chapter FOUR

I shoved the door open, throwing the orb at the person closest to me. It hit him, flaring bright and he was thrown back into the wall. The other two shapes moved toward me from either side. I turned, slapping one's arm down, and slamming my elbow in their face, hooking my foot around their ankle. I shoved him, and pulled his foot out from under him. He hit the floor with a faint groan and I kicked him, only feeling a little guilty at the pained sound he made.

I twisted, dodging the swing of the other person. I punched him in the face, and grabbed his arm, helping him into the wall. I took a few sliding steps toward him, and gave him a hard kick too. Just incase he started to get any ideas. He let out a groan, as I shoved that burning fire flaring up inside of me toward my palm again. I hit the safety, the click sounding loud in the silence that had filled the room after my orb started throwing light around us.

"Now behave, and I'll turn on the light," I snapped, holstering my gun and walking over to the light switch. I flicked it on, and a single bulb flickered to life. I flinched, my eyes watering as the harsh light sent splinters of pain through my head. I raised my arm, shielding my eyes from the light.

"Are you going to make that go away?" one of them asked, their voice scratchy.

I glanced down, my orb still flowing around in my hand. It was a gorgeous thing to come from something so painful. "I don't know, I kind of like it," I replied, just as the guy that had gotten hit with the other orb let out a moan of pain. But he still tried to get to his feet.

He had close cut dark hair and bronze skin that could be a tan or mixed ethics. He had thick eyelashes and a slim jawline that helped balance the faint down turn at the corner of his eyes. His eyes opened, the folds becoming more pronounced as he glared at me with dark, narrowed and exhausted eyes.

I sighed, barely able to see the scar that cut his eyebrow in half because of the bruises marching up and down his face, some of which were yellow and fading, while others were dark purple and getting worse.

"If you stay still for a little while, the pain should pass quicker," I told him, ignoring the look he was giving me. I glanced at the others, one of them was already on his feet but he was holding his side. I hadn't been going easy when I'd kicked either of them. But they had started it.

This one was tall and lean with floppy brown hair that was caked with grime and who knows what else. He stared at me from under his hair, his eyes oddly bright. His face was slim and angular, his nose sitting slightly off center with a crook to it, but his cheek bones demanded you pay attention to how flawless they were, even with the stubble that was trying to hide them.

Aw, Vickten; what the fuck did you get your self into? But this would explain why Tristan hadn't been able to get a hold of him. Because despite the fact they looked nothing alike, Vickten was Tristan's younger brother. Who has been trapped in this basement for a week. At least, that's how long Tristan's been bitching and worrying about Vickten.

"Who are you?" he grumbled, leaning against the wall as he felt his ribs. I knew that probing thing he was doing, he was trying to make sure nothing was broken. Tristen would be happy, Vickten was being thorough. I narrowed my eyes, seeing the fading yellow splotches that dotted him. But he didn't have any fresh ones like his friend.

They had beaten, and it didn't shock me too much. Now, if they didn't have any puncture wounds on them; that would shock me. But the vampires did have a lot of people to choose from up stairs, why would they drink from these guys? Ha, probably just to prove they could.