Bonded By Blood

Sheriff's Estate - The Vault

This room covers almost the entire ground floor of this house. The majority is taken up by a stylish reception area; three chunky, white leather couches places in a neat U-shape, with a low table in the centre. Another corner holds a modern, black table, six comfortable chairs placed around it as though for conference. The final feature is a bar, well-equipped behind it and with a pair of chunky fridge-freezers, containing a variety of synthetic blood. In one corner is a staircase, leading upstairs. On the same wall is a door through to the only area on this floor not part of this room, where sits a small bathroom and the route downstairs, a featureless door, metal constructed and lockable from one side only, though plated to fit with the design of the house.
Three walls are white, the fourth covered in ceramic panels to give some colour to the place. The floor is tiled, in a pleasant, neutral shade. Windows at regular intervals stretch from floor to ceiling, concealed blackout blinds above them. One wall bears a huge flatscreen television, and one aware of their surroundings will spot the speakers concealed at various points in the room. The general feel of this area is a clinical style, a blank, neutral canvas for whatever happens to be going on. Those who know Will generally refer to this area as The Vault, for the round pillars that stretch up to the roof.


The room is quiet, since there is no-one who requires to breathe in here, the only sounds are those coming in from outside. William Grant, Sheriff of Dallas, has been re-deposited on one of the white couches, though a different one now so another is being thoroughly ruined by the slowly bleeding vampire. He is barely conscious now; a message has been passed around that he has sent someone to fetch a human to be devoured, so dire are his wounds. Security is tight right now; a few favours have been called in to ensure that should anything come near the estate uninvited, it won't survive the process. Other favours have ensured that the message is being sent across the city; no retribution. Not yet.

There are a few mutterings, though not from Erica, who is doing most of the passing of messages as a familiar face, that Will might not survive this one. There's quite a lot of silver still embeddedin his flesh, though the fact that he is still conscious is a good sign, apparently.

All in all, not a great evening. Not for anyone.

Michael is playing the role of loyal follower, he'd grabbed Chloe, because she'd been seen with Will, so he took her with him to the Sheriffs estates, since then he's been making his own arrangements, it would likely soon reach Will that Michael's been making sure he's welcome in not only several states, but also in several European nations, it's overkill, but it might just be necessary. Hearing that Will is somewhat awake he heads to meet with him, and see what he has to say on handling these matters.

At first, Chloe was being detained. Partially, she understands this. Will is an important vampire, and they need to make sure he's safe. Then she's being grabbed since she's pretty much the only other actual living thing here other than possibly Rose, but she's not seen Rose so who knows if she even made it here.

"Let go! I've got to see him, you don't understand!" It's only by sheer luck, and a little bit of vampire blood that she's able to get free from the two that were holding her back, and finally rushes past Michael to kneel beside the couch.

"So help me God, if you die, I'm going to kill you." It doesn't make much sense, but she's not really in a rational mind at the moment. She should have been more alert, more aware as to what was going on. If she hadn't spent her whole life medicating herself due to her oddity, she would have been prepared to sense it all well before it happened.

Stirring in place, Will's eyes open, filled with a hunger fuelled by his body's attempts to heal and push out the invading shreds and lumps of silver. Whilst not as bad as he looked when he arrived here, the wounds are not closing properly, not yet. His look alights on Michael, and faint surprise shows in his utter failure to mask his expression.

"I am already dead," he manages, with a faint hint of his darkest humour, "though it seems I may finally manage a second valiant attempt." His look scores down Chloe's neck, drinking in the sight and sound of the throbbing pulse. "Michael Isonzo. I am glad you are here. Stop me if I should try to devour the girl."

Michael takes a step forward Michael offers an almost imperceptible nod. "Of course." He studies Chloe for a moment. "I believe that you should see about getting medical attention of your own." He looks at Will studying him closely as he tries to judge if he'll make it.

"After," she replies to Michael.

"Shut up," Chloe says, giving Will a shove. "I mean /dead/ dead." She turns just enough to flash her neck at Will so that she can look at Michael. "Don't you dare stop him. He needs this." It winds up being less of a look and more of a glare. Hurriedly, she starts to wriggle out of her jacket and over-shirt, leaving her in just the thin camisole. Recalling what he said about preferring things to be less intimate, she twists enough to shove her wrist at his mouth.

Just so that he doesn't stop her, she orders, "Drink."

Will's wounds are bad; judging his age and the amount of silver in him, it would likely be a close call if he doesn't feed soon. Still, it's rare to see silver in a vampire in so many shards; who knows?

The Sheriff's attention is involuntarily drawn to the proffered wrist. "Michael. I truly appreciate your presence." Staring now at the wrist, his ears thudding with the hunger, his speech falters to the archaic. "Chloe, I mayhap have told there are likely two of mine kind in Dallas older than I. This is one. Do not argue when he wrestles you from me." Which in his weakened state should prove no problem at all.

Faster than a human eye can follow, Will's arms flash out, grabbing and dragging Chloe onto him, his fangs sinking into her neck, embracing and holding her in an iron grip. His eyes flash up into his head as his involuntary telepathic reaction kicks in, and his power begins to batter against the walls of Chloe's natural resistance.

Michael likewise moves fast, although perhaps not quite as fast as he could, after all wounded as he is Will may need a little blood if he's going to struggle too much, Michael does however make a grab for Will, trying to force him to release Chloe.

With a squeak that turns into a cry of pain at the unexpected bite to her neck as opposed to her wrist, Chloe's eyes snap shut. There is really only one thought running rampant through her mind, and that's the fact that Bobby is liable to /kill/ her if he ever finds out. She doesn't struggle against Will, though, instead laying there as compliant as one can while in pain. After a while, the pain subsides and it really doesn't feel all that awful.

Then she's hit by an entirely different shock - the feeling of all her memories rushing to the surface. Her boringly mediocre middle-child childhood. Her siblings. The incident at the river, in which her use of telepathy saved her sister's life. An abject fear of rivers that developed after that. Being locked up in Green Oaks for a year after her powers came into their full force. The medication. The hiding from life until recently. Then the images might get a bit more familiar. The bookstore. Scenes from incidents at the library. Shrill arguments, the way she felt when reading a certain ancient text, feelings she's been struggling against of late that are both new and terrifying to her.

In the back of her mind, she can feel Michael there but she doesn't comply with Will's wishes per se. She just lifts a hand to his forehead and whispers, "S-stop when y-you've had enough…"

Drinking as fast as he is able, as soon as Michael's hands start to grip on him, a snarl tears from Will's mouth. Just as quickly, his eyes close, then snap open as his jaws do the same, releasing the bite cleanly as his sanity and desperate cling to humanity forces clarity to his mind. His head snaps back, and a long exhalation of breath is released. A satisfied noise.

His face drops away from the predatory snarl, falling back into its impassive mask, and his iron grip on Chloe begins to slacken. Slowly, he says, "Thank you. Both of you. Perhaps we should disengage?"

Not yet letting go of Will Michael speaks in level tone. "Yes, I suggest that we arrange for the doctor for the young lady." He then looks at Chloe. "And before you think of offering yourself to him again, know that he may well not be able to stop." He frowns very slightly as he studies Will. "You may take some time to heal… I would suggest that you name a proxy during this time…. the messenger you sent to me perhaps?"

Oh, this certainly did not help to clarify anything for Chloe. She's of a torn mind now. Part of her is happy she's saved him, though there is a small part that hates herself for becoming a fanger - her term for a fangbanger, sans the banging.

At first, she doesn't move. Her hand stays on his forehead, her body exactly where he drew it atop himself. She's still breathing, though at the moment the breaths are coming fairly slowly. "mfine," she mumbles, "gonsleep…" Lashes flutter a little. Perhaps Will took a great deal more than he appeared to.

Slowly, the Sheriff begins to disengage himself from Chloe, allowing her to rest on the couch. Much more composed, even as some of those wounds start beginning to close, and a few shards of metal currently not pulled out by someone else start showing their tiny little faces.

"Isobel is a valuable asset," says he. "I will take this opportunity to spend a few days here. Messages can be sent via Isobel and others, and necessary meetings held here. I will be passing the word, should retribution comes before my word, I will have the culprit in a silver coffin for a century per offense." With all the hideous connotation of that. "Chloe. You need to sleep; as do I."

Nodding Michael offers a very slight smile. "Then I'm glad I don't care much retribution." He frowns a little. "We should of course consider the possibility that the Myor, or at least one of those responsible for coming up with this parade was deeply involved. But of course I will leave you to consider that." He bows his head slightly. "I believe you have my number if you should need me?"

It's rare for anyone to /actually/ listen to Chloe when she says she's fine. Such a rarity that it causes her to grin when Michael drops it. Besides, the vampire blood will help her body recover more quickly. A doctor will want to stitch her, and she'd rather not be scarred - then she'd have to explain things if her brother ever saw the injury.

"notleavin'… finehere…" Poor Chloe, weakened due to the blood loss of her own injury, coupled by the neat, quick, draining. At least he didn't drain her dry. She'd be just like a human raisin. The thought flits through her brain, making her giggle a little. Yep. She's a bit blood loss punch drunk.

Even as she says she's fine, tiny little shards of silver pierce at the skin on her arms and collarbone as they're pushed out of Will's healing body.

"I do," Will replies to Michael, allowing him a nod now he is almost compus mentis. "You assistance has been appreciated, and those responsible will suffer." A dark gleam sweeps across his gaze. "I shall see you soon." His attention shifts, though, as the girl begins to giggle.

Seeing the gleaming shreds beginning to stick in her, he does now fully disengage from holding her, leaving her to herself for the moment. "I think," he suggests, "that perhaps we will take you to a doctor." A specialist well-accustomed to coming out here at all hours. A mental order delivered to poor Erica upstairs ensures such.

Looking down at Chloe Michael frowns a little. "I look forward to it. If you will excuse me though, I seem to have developped something of an appetite." He begins for the door, looking at the blood on his clothes with slight disapproval, after all blood can leave terrible stains.

"thankyou," she says sleepily to Michael. Then Chloe sort of just sinks into the couch with a feeble, "Nostitches," knowing that arguing against Will at this point would be stupid. "Noscars…" Then she starts to drift off, since her body deems that it needs time to heal and sleep is the best way to do that.

Will doesn't bother to say anything else, just shaking his head as he starts to move Chloe into a posture of slightly more dignified repose.

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