Locke & Key Part II
Dec. 23rd, 2007 04:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrAnd I already know what you peeps are going to demand x.x I've already started *headdesk*
Locke counted corpses as he reloaded his revolvers.
Seven. There should be nine. Looks like two had gotten away. But where? "Ke—" He stopped himself with a curse, an all too familiar ache flaring to life in his chest. Stupid, lying fuck. Three weeks and Key still had him feeling pissed off.
Or something.
Locking the cylinder of his second Blackhawk back in place, he moved quickly past the corpses spread out in front of him toward the back half of the house.
Somehow he wasn't having as much fun as he usually did. As difficult and unpleasant and smelly and dangerous as the job was – he'd always enjoyed it. No one could hate being a vampire hunter and do it anyway. It just wasn't possible.
He'd always flown predominantly solo. Every now and then his brothers or sister needed assistance and they teamed up then. He'd hired on local help in larger cities…it wasn't until stupid fucking Key that he'd gotten himself a full time partner. Even Steven hadn't really helped him all that much; he'd done his own thing most of the time.
A partner who made bad jokes and never knew when to stop being a smartass. A partner who didn't blink at the idea of killing and burning bodies but couldn't bear to leave a little kitten in the cold…an obnoxious asshole but one who could make a wicked pot of coffee.
Who was also a fucking dhampir and right now was probably laughing at how gullible Locke had been.
That knot in his chest twisted again. Locke banished his thoughts with a curse and kicked open the door to the kitchen.
Something came at him and he dropped it, the sound of his revolver in the enclosed space deafening.
Eight.
He eyed his options – the back door was wide open…and the pantry door firmly shut. Checking the vamp he'd just killed, satisfied it was well and truly dead, he stepped toward the pantry. Kicking it open, he lifted his gun and fired.
Nine.
Easy peasy. Double checking the final corpse, he turned and made his way through the house to give it a last once over.
He was nearly done with the second floor when he heard a car coming up the long gravel drive. Who the fuck…? Quickly clearing the remaining rooms, he strode downstairs and out onto the ramshackle porch of the old cabin he'd just cleared of a vampire infestation.
The cherry-red camaro parked right alongside his own green mustang had him swearing a blue streak. "What in the blazing fuck are you doing here, Pretty Boy?"
"Fuck you. Mama told me to track your ass down and beat it."
"Go to hell, Preston, and take mom with you."
Preston rolled his eyes. "You refuse to answer your phone, you won't sign on to chat – not even a fucking email. Of course mama is worried about her baby boy. Why the fuck are you being an ass? Where's Key and why isn't he beating the shit out of you already?"
"Shut up and go away," Locke snarled, stomping down the stairs and to his car.
"Ah," Preston said. "I see. You broke up with Key. Why'd you go and do a stupid thing like that?"
Locke slammed the car door shut and turned back around. "Fuck you. I didn't break up with him because we were never fucking dating because I don't date motherfuckig dhampirs. Now go the hell away." He opened the car door again and threw himself inside. Fuck. He still had to burn the house.
Swearing, he climbed back out, slammed the door shut, and went to fetch supplies from the trunk.
"Dhampir?" Preston asked. "You're fucking kidding me. Key? No way."
"Yeah," Locke said sourly.
Preston whistled. "Clever little bastard to keep that a secret for so long. How'd you finally figure it out?"
"Would you go the fuck away?"
"Not now that you've told me your ex-boyfriend is a dhampir. You sure have shitty ass luck, Locke."
"Fuck off and die," Locke snapped, all but shouting the words. "He wasn't my goddamn boyfriend." He slammed the trunk closed and then stooped to retrieve the cans of gasoline he'd taken from the trunk.
Preston rolled his eyes. "Twenty eight and you still act like you're fifteen."
"Oh, yeah, like you're one to talk."
"I will kick your ass, and we both know I can do it," Preston said, grabbing him by his jacket as he walked by and throwing him against the car.
Locke snapped and threw a punch. "Go the fuck away!"
Half an hour later he had nothing to show for his efforts but a bloody lip and sore body. But Preston had a black eye. That made him feel a little better.
"Mama never spanked you enough growing up," Preston said with a grunt. "Can I let you go or you going to keep being a pain in the ass?"
"Get the fuck off me," Locke said sullenly.
Preston grunted and let him go, standing up and hauling Locke to his feet. "Now, asshole, what the fuck is your problem? If you miss Key that goddamn much, go fucking find him."
Locke turned away to retrieve the things he'd dropped before they started fighting. "I don't want to talk about it. Go away."
"Why don't you tell me the whole story," Preston said with a sigh. "Cause if you don't, I really will kick your ass and then we'll have to deal with mama."
Rolling his eyes in defeat, Locke finally told him all that had passed.
"Shit, is Key the one I've been hearing about? I was on my way to figure out what the fuck happened with Tremont when mama told me to find you and skin you alive."
Locke went cold. "What the fuck happened with Tremont? Can't you keep your fucking tops under control?"
Unlike him and Billie, Preston kept an eye on all registered top vampires. Less fighting, but a hell of a lot uglier when they did decide to fight.
"Fuck you," Preston retorted. "I was across the damned country doing precisely that when I got the call, and thanks to you I still don't know what's going on. All I know is Tremont was attacked and about twenty broken and six average are all dead, and Tremont was badly injured. Do you know how much fast talking I'm going to have to do if your boyfriend is behind this?"
"He's not my—"
"Yeah, he was, except in your fool head. Shut the fuck up. A hunter could kill that many vamps if he was trying, especially if he was the kind who hung around you."
"Why the fuck didn't Alessandro pester you?" Locke asked sourly. He knew the answer, but it annoyed him anyway. Tops weren't supposed to be fucking shit up like this, and he didn't even want to know why the fuck Alessandro cared about some random ass human. "Key and I had nothing the fuck to do with it."
"Apparently Key does, the poor bastard. Come on, let's burn this joint down and then you can go kiss and make up."
Locke frowned but didn't rise to the bait as Preston was obviously expecting. It wasn't that goddamned fucking simple. Key had lied to him. For almost six years. About being a vampire. Or close enough to one.
Fuck, he'd seen dhampir before. They were nothing like Key. It didn't make any fucking sense and that was no small part of what was pissing him off. He knew how vampires smelled; Key smelled nothing like that. He ate and drank all the right things to make his blood the tastiest thing ever so that broken vamps had a hard time really running from him on a hunt.
Key fucking helped him kill vamps – why would a fucking dhampir do that? How the fuck had he gotten a license to hunt vamps? Then again, it was Key. He could do tons of shit no one should be able to.
Like deceive his fucking partner for going on six years.
He clenched and unclenched his fist as he thought about the last time he'd seen Key. That fucking hotel room. At the time, punching the bastard had felt pretty damn good. It still might feel good.
Fuck, Key had asked him about Tremont. Had the dumbass actually tried to do it? Key was a geek, not a fighter. Why would he be that fucking stupid? Every vamp there would have known he was a dhampir, and vamps liked half-breeds about as much as humans.
"Ah, so you've started thinking again," Preston said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Shut up," Locke said. "He's a fucking dhampir."
Preston tapped the side of his nose. "People still like to say we've got werewolf in the blood because we're got such a sharp sense of smell. It's not true, but even if it was – who gives a fuck? We're not werewolves, and we have no fucking control over our ancestors. Shit, it's not our fault our parents gave birth to us. It's their fucking fault, not ours. Key is a good guy, or so he always seemed to me. Not least of all because it was fucking obvious – even to dad and we all know how he and mom got together, Christ – that he was in love with you. I can understand you punching him…but you should have stuck around to say you were sorry."
"Oh, yes, and let's hear how many times you've said you're sorry for being an asshole, Pretty Boy."
"We're not talking about me," Preston said. "So shut up and let's burn this house down so we can go find your boyfriend."
Locke rolled his eyes, but obeyed. It wouldn't be that easy, but suddenly he felt less like shooting everything he came across.
"You sons of bitches have about ten seconds to tell me where he is, or I'm going to bust caps all over the goddamn place," Locke said, brandishing his Model 500's with relish.
Preston rolled his eyes. "Tremont. If you please."
"Your brother could use some manners," Tremont said. "I have no idea where that nasty little dhampir got to. He took Alessandro's human and left. I've not seen him since and if I ever do I fully intend to take out his throat."
Only the thought of what Preston and their father would do to him if he killed Tremont kept Locke from pulling the trigger.
"Though I concede he was quite the little dhampir. His like I have never seen," Tremont continued.
Preston nodded. "Stop fucking with Alessandro, Tremont. I should be reporting violations left and right. You two are my biggest goddamn headache this side of the country. I wish just once I could go to California without getting yanked back here to sort the two of you out."
"We tried to leave you out of it, this time."
"Then you shouldn't have involved my fucking brother."
"That was entirely Alessandro's doing," Tremont replied. "Do not get upset with me over it. I didn't kill the stupid vampire, did I?"
Preston sighed. "Would you simmer down for a few months? Or learn to share or something? Honestly, the two of you drive me crazy."
Tremont bared his teeth in a nasty smile. "I would sooner kill myself than share anything with that bastard. I'll lay low, however. There's no choice until this wound heals. You wouldn't report it anyway, because otherwise you'd have to report the dhampir and I can see you don't want to do that."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's not start listing all the reasons we can blackmail each other, Tremont. We'd be here all fucking day. Just lay off Alessandro, I'm tired of hearing about your bitch fits."
"Get out," Tremont said. "I've had more than my fill of hunters this century."
Preston smirked briefly. "Too bad. I'll be back next week according to our regular schedule."
"Wonderful," Tremont muttered. "Go away until then."
Locke swore colorfully as he stomped from the room, badly wishing he could shoot something. He was fucking sick and tired of asking questions and getting shitty answers. It had taken them for fucking ever just to get to Tremont, and now they were still stuck in square one.
Was Key even still alive?
"I guess we should have started with Alessandro," Preston said as they stepped into the elevator. Tremont's penthouse was at the top of the highest building in the city. Alessandro, several hours away, lived in much the same manner.
Key had often made cracks about bats in belfries.
Locke frowned and holstered his guns.
The elevator chimed as they reached the bottom, doors sliding open, and Locke walked as quickly as he could from the building and down into the parking garage.
He ignored Preston, who tried a few times to call out to him, and threw himself into his car, peeling out of the parking garage as quickly as he could without killing anyone.
The drive to Alessandro's city was interminable. He wanted to scream. Or punch someone. When they finally reached the city, and Alessandro's skyscraper, he was ready to commit mass murder.
A warning look from Preston was all that kept him behaving as they rode an elevator to the top. A flash of their licenses and the security guard at the desk had only nodded mutely – an adjusted vamp, one who'd been turned and managed not to break. A pity, cause Locke really wanted to shoot someone.
Locke didn't know how Preston did it. He much preferred the shoot'em up side of the vampire business. See problem. See problem with giant hole in its chest. See problem go away.
When the elevator doors slid open, Alessandro was in the lobby – obviously waiting for them.
"Sandro," Preston greeted.
"Preston," Alessandro replied, and Locke rolled his eyes as the vampire kissed each of Preston's cheeks. Tops. He wished the fuckers had stayed in the dark ages. The older the vamp, the more annoying. He really didn't know how Preston put up with all their shit.
"You're causing trouble again, Sandro," Preston said. "One of these days I won't be able to keep the two of you from facing the music."
Alessandro chuckled. "I was trying to do you a favor, Preston, by keeping you out of this."
"By involving my brother?" Preston snorted. "Not buying it."
Alessandro merely laughed again. "I admit that was not the wisest decision, but I was not willing to trust the matter to another hunter. I had hoped by the time you heard of it, the matter would have been resolved."
"How is Heath?" Preston asked, shaking his head.
"Fuck that," Locke cut in. "Where in the goddamn hell is Key?"
Alessandro laughed again. "What makes you think I have him?"
Locke raised his Smith & Wesson, ignoring the warning look from Preston. "Tell me where he is or I'll do to you what I should have done in the first place, bitch."
"I can see the family resemblance," Alessandro said with a laugh, sliding Preston an amused look. "However, he lacks your…polish."
"Mama tried to polish him, and pop tried to beat manners into him, but I'm afraid Locke was always a lost cause," Preston said with a smile. "However, I will take his side in this. Where's Key?"
"In one of my guest rooms," Alessandro said. "Down the hallway, third door on the right."
Locke holstered his weapons and stormed past him, throwing open the doors to the penthouse proper. He ignored the handful of vampires he saw sitting around and barreled down the hallway.
He hesitated briefly as he reached the right door, hand resting lightly on the knob.
Then he scowled and pushed the door open, almost slamming it shut behind him.
Key was out cold on the bed, blankets shoved back to reveal him dressed in nothing more than a wife beater and the stupid Halloween boxers he'd bought one year with little cartoon vampire bats all over them.
He looked like shit, bandages and bruises all over the place. Despite that, he still was the finest thing Locke had ever laid eyes on. Striding to the bed, Locke sat carefully down on the edge of it. Hesitantly he reached out to touch Key's cheek, tracing the curve of it lightly, up and then down to his jaw.
The bruises from his punches had faded, but there were far too many to replace them.
Key's eyes fluttered, and Locke hastily withdrew his hand
Too blue eyes opened and immediately found him – and the sleepiness abruptly vanished, and the coolness that replaced it made Locke sick to his stomach.
Wincing in pain, Key sat up and scooted as far away as the bed would allow. "What the fuck do you want?"
Locke balled his hands into fists, staring at them a moment before looking at Key again. "I'm an asshole."
"Yeah," Key said, laughing bitterly. "You are. That still doesn't explain why you're here. In fact it would better explain why you wouldn't be here."
"I’m here because I'm an asshole who wants to say he's sorry," Locke snapped.
Key said nothing.
Locke stifled a sigh. He'd known this wasn't going to be easy. "I fucked up, all right? I shouldn't have acted as I did."
"You didn't even give me a fucking chance to explain," Key said. He raked a hand through his hair, looking angry and miserable and defeated. Locke hated it. "I can't fucking help what I am, and I never told you because I knew you'd hate me for it, but goddamn it – I was there for you for how fucking long? You could have let me explain."
"I know," Locke said. He did. "You shouldn't have fucking kept it secret. There were better ways to let me know than to hear it from a motherfucking top. You're an asshole too."
"How was I supposed to?" Key asked angrily. "Everyone fucking hates me. Alessandro is the first vamp I've ever met who didn't want to kill me straight off. Humans want nothing to do with me when they figure out I'm half vamp. It’s not my goddamn fault I was born like this, and being a half breed doesn't mean I suck blood. I never have. I can't heal, I'm not long-lived, and being out in direct sunlight for too long makes me sick. I have sharp teeth and some resistance to sunlight, and I like my steaks rare. That's fucking it. But everyone hates me for it. If keeping my being a dhampir a secret is the only way I can get anyone to care about me, fine. You try being hated your whole life, Locke. Fuck you."
Locke glared at him. "I would have fucking dealt, asshole. Over five years, and how did you expect me to fucking react? Shit, you know me and secrets. Fuck you."
"I'm not Steven!" Key snarled.
"I know!" Locke replied, shouting the words. "Christ all fucking mighty, I know. I get it. I already said I fucked up. It was a nasty surprise, but I'm here aren't I? Shit, you know me." He scrubbed tiredly at his face. "You know me better than anyone, Key. Why did you do this by yourself?"
"You didn't even give me a chance to explain," Key said quietly, speaking more to the mattress than to Locke. "You hit me twice and essentially told me to fuck off. You're hardly the first. It hurt. You told me to do it myself, even though you knew it would be stupid to try. Go to hell."
Locke sighed. "It never occurred to me you would try. You're supposed to be the smart half, remember?"
"Yeah, but I didn't need the whole fucking world knowing I was a dhampir," Key said bitterly. "You walked out on me. I had no fucking choice."
Closing his eyes, Locke called himself every nasty name he could think of. "I guess that's that, then." Shit, right now he kind of wished Steven hadn't missed when stabbing him. It would have sucked a lot fucking less than this.
He'd expected to be paying for his fuck up for a long ass time…but it hadn't really occurred to him that things would end end. Somehow he'd just assumed they'd be partners again. Key had never looked that cold, though. It seemed pretty clear the conversation was over…that everything was over.
"So what are you going to do once you're all healed up?" he asked.
"What the fuck do you care?" Key asked.
Locke sighed. "Right. None of my business anymore. I just—oh fuck it. Just find yourself a partner less stupid, all right?" He stood up and strode to the door.
"So you're leaving again?" Key asked.
"What the fuck do you want me to do?" Locke snapped, back to shouting. "You obviously don't want me to stay."
Key glared at him. "I want to know why you're here."
"I already fucking told you – I'm sorry I was an asshole. How many fucking times do I need to say it?"
"So you're sorry? That's it?"
"What do you mean that's it?" Locke demanded, exploding. "I'm here, how much more fucking obvious can I be? Do I need to spell it out that I want you back?"
"Yes," Key snapped, shouting now too. "Yes, you need to spell it out you motherfucking asshole. You punched me. Twice. You left me to deal with the vampires alone. You completely fucking bailed on me, asshole. So motherfucking spell it out, cause you sure as fuck made it clear before that you hated me."
Muttering several colorful oaths, Locke stalked back to the bed and knelt on it, looming over Key – then kissed him, and oh fucking hell he'd needed that. Groaning, he sank a hand into Key's hair and kissed exactly as he'd wanted ever since they'd first met. Key tasted a little bit like medicine, but otherwise he was pure Key, hot and male and it fixed every little thing that had been wrong since he'd stormed out.
"Is that spelling it out enough for you?" he asked when they finally broke apart.
Key blinked, looking more than a little dazed, and Locke allowed himself to feel more than a little smug. Then his expression cleared, and Key shook him hard. "You're still in deep shit, asshole. For like, a very long time."
"Yeah, I already knew that. Trust me." Locke would have laid down from sheer relief except he liked the position he was in just fine. "So does this mean we're back together?"
"More like finally together, but yeah," Key said warily. "I'm a dhampir and suddenly you're okay with that?"
"Suddenly my ass," Locke replied. "It took several days, my brother kicking my ass, and seeing you again. I really don't give a fuck what you are, so long as you're mine. Now stop forcing me to sound like a girl, asshole."
Key smiled, like really smiled, his blue eyes blazing with it. "I'm pretty sure a girl would have apologized better than you."
"Shut up," Locke said, and kissed him again so Key would shut up and because now that everything was perfect he had almost six years worth of frustration to finally work out.
*~*~*
Locke counted corpses as he reloaded his revolvers.
Seven. There should be nine. Looks like two had gotten away. But where? "Ke—" He stopped himself with a curse, an all too familiar ache flaring to life in his chest. Stupid, lying fuck. Three weeks and Key still had him feeling pissed off.
Or something.
Locking the cylinder of his second Blackhawk back in place, he moved quickly past the corpses spread out in front of him toward the back half of the house.
Somehow he wasn't having as much fun as he usually did. As difficult and unpleasant and smelly and dangerous as the job was – he'd always enjoyed it. No one could hate being a vampire hunter and do it anyway. It just wasn't possible.
He'd always flown predominantly solo. Every now and then his brothers or sister needed assistance and they teamed up then. He'd hired on local help in larger cities…it wasn't until stupid fucking Key that he'd gotten himself a full time partner. Even Steven hadn't really helped him all that much; he'd done his own thing most of the time.
A partner who made bad jokes and never knew when to stop being a smartass. A partner who didn't blink at the idea of killing and burning bodies but couldn't bear to leave a little kitten in the cold…an obnoxious asshole but one who could make a wicked pot of coffee.
Who was also a fucking dhampir and right now was probably laughing at how gullible Locke had been.
That knot in his chest twisted again. Locke banished his thoughts with a curse and kicked open the door to the kitchen.
Something came at him and he dropped it, the sound of his revolver in the enclosed space deafening.
Eight.
He eyed his options – the back door was wide open…and the pantry door firmly shut. Checking the vamp he'd just killed, satisfied it was well and truly dead, he stepped toward the pantry. Kicking it open, he lifted his gun and fired.
Nine.
Easy peasy. Double checking the final corpse, he turned and made his way through the house to give it a last once over.
He was nearly done with the second floor when he heard a car coming up the long gravel drive. Who the fuck…? Quickly clearing the remaining rooms, he strode downstairs and out onto the ramshackle porch of the old cabin he'd just cleared of a vampire infestation.
The cherry-red camaro parked right alongside his own green mustang had him swearing a blue streak. "What in the blazing fuck are you doing here, Pretty Boy?"
"Fuck you. Mama told me to track your ass down and beat it."
"Go to hell, Preston, and take mom with you."
Preston rolled his eyes. "You refuse to answer your phone, you won't sign on to chat – not even a fucking email. Of course mama is worried about her baby boy. Why the fuck are you being an ass? Where's Key and why isn't he beating the shit out of you already?"
"Shut up and go away," Locke snarled, stomping down the stairs and to his car.
"Ah," Preston said. "I see. You broke up with Key. Why'd you go and do a stupid thing like that?"
Locke slammed the car door shut and turned back around. "Fuck you. I didn't break up with him because we were never fucking dating because I don't date motherfuckig dhampirs. Now go the hell away." He opened the car door again and threw himself inside. Fuck. He still had to burn the house.
Swearing, he climbed back out, slammed the door shut, and went to fetch supplies from the trunk.
"Dhampir?" Preston asked. "You're fucking kidding me. Key? No way."
"Yeah," Locke said sourly.
Preston whistled. "Clever little bastard to keep that a secret for so long. How'd you finally figure it out?"
"Would you go the fuck away?"
"Not now that you've told me your ex-boyfriend is a dhampir. You sure have shitty ass luck, Locke."
"Fuck off and die," Locke snapped, all but shouting the words. "He wasn't my goddamn boyfriend." He slammed the trunk closed and then stooped to retrieve the cans of gasoline he'd taken from the trunk.
Preston rolled his eyes. "Twenty eight and you still act like you're fifteen."
"Oh, yeah, like you're one to talk."
"I will kick your ass, and we both know I can do it," Preston said, grabbing him by his jacket as he walked by and throwing him against the car.
Locke snapped and threw a punch. "Go the fuck away!"
Half an hour later he had nothing to show for his efforts but a bloody lip and sore body. But Preston had a black eye. That made him feel a little better.
"Mama never spanked you enough growing up," Preston said with a grunt. "Can I let you go or you going to keep being a pain in the ass?"
"Get the fuck off me," Locke said sullenly.
Preston grunted and let him go, standing up and hauling Locke to his feet. "Now, asshole, what the fuck is your problem? If you miss Key that goddamn much, go fucking find him."
Locke turned away to retrieve the things he'd dropped before they started fighting. "I don't want to talk about it. Go away."
"Why don't you tell me the whole story," Preston said with a sigh. "Cause if you don't, I really will kick your ass and then we'll have to deal with mama."
Rolling his eyes in defeat, Locke finally told him all that had passed.
"Shit, is Key the one I've been hearing about? I was on my way to figure out what the fuck happened with Tremont when mama told me to find you and skin you alive."
Locke went cold. "What the fuck happened with Tremont? Can't you keep your fucking tops under control?"
Unlike him and Billie, Preston kept an eye on all registered top vampires. Less fighting, but a hell of a lot uglier when they did decide to fight.
"Fuck you," Preston retorted. "I was across the damned country doing precisely that when I got the call, and thanks to you I still don't know what's going on. All I know is Tremont was attacked and about twenty broken and six average are all dead, and Tremont was badly injured. Do you know how much fast talking I'm going to have to do if your boyfriend is behind this?"
"He's not my—"
"Yeah, he was, except in your fool head. Shut the fuck up. A hunter could kill that many vamps if he was trying, especially if he was the kind who hung around you."
"Why the fuck didn't Alessandro pester you?" Locke asked sourly. He knew the answer, but it annoyed him anyway. Tops weren't supposed to be fucking shit up like this, and he didn't even want to know why the fuck Alessandro cared about some random ass human. "Key and I had nothing the fuck to do with it."
"Apparently Key does, the poor bastard. Come on, let's burn this joint down and then you can go kiss and make up."
Locke frowned but didn't rise to the bait as Preston was obviously expecting. It wasn't that goddamned fucking simple. Key had lied to him. For almost six years. About being a vampire. Or close enough to one.
Fuck, he'd seen dhampir before. They were nothing like Key. It didn't make any fucking sense and that was no small part of what was pissing him off. He knew how vampires smelled; Key smelled nothing like that. He ate and drank all the right things to make his blood the tastiest thing ever so that broken vamps had a hard time really running from him on a hunt.
Key fucking helped him kill vamps – why would a fucking dhampir do that? How the fuck had he gotten a license to hunt vamps? Then again, it was Key. He could do tons of shit no one should be able to.
Like deceive his fucking partner for going on six years.
He clenched and unclenched his fist as he thought about the last time he'd seen Key. That fucking hotel room. At the time, punching the bastard had felt pretty damn good. It still might feel good.
Fuck, Key had asked him about Tremont. Had the dumbass actually tried to do it? Key was a geek, not a fighter. Why would he be that fucking stupid? Every vamp there would have known he was a dhampir, and vamps liked half-breeds about as much as humans.
"Ah, so you've started thinking again," Preston said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Shut up," Locke said. "He's a fucking dhampir."
Preston tapped the side of his nose. "People still like to say we've got werewolf in the blood because we're got such a sharp sense of smell. It's not true, but even if it was – who gives a fuck? We're not werewolves, and we have no fucking control over our ancestors. Shit, it's not our fault our parents gave birth to us. It's their fucking fault, not ours. Key is a good guy, or so he always seemed to me. Not least of all because it was fucking obvious – even to dad and we all know how he and mom got together, Christ – that he was in love with you. I can understand you punching him…but you should have stuck around to say you were sorry."
"Oh, yes, and let's hear how many times you've said you're sorry for being an asshole, Pretty Boy."
"We're not talking about me," Preston said. "So shut up and let's burn this house down so we can go find your boyfriend."
Locke rolled his eyes, but obeyed. It wouldn't be that easy, but suddenly he felt less like shooting everything he came across.
*~*~*
"You sons of bitches have about ten seconds to tell me where he is, or I'm going to bust caps all over the goddamn place," Locke said, brandishing his Model 500's with relish.
Preston rolled his eyes. "Tremont. If you please."
"Your brother could use some manners," Tremont said. "I have no idea where that nasty little dhampir got to. He took Alessandro's human and left. I've not seen him since and if I ever do I fully intend to take out his throat."
Only the thought of what Preston and their father would do to him if he killed Tremont kept Locke from pulling the trigger.
"Though I concede he was quite the little dhampir. His like I have never seen," Tremont continued.
Preston nodded. "Stop fucking with Alessandro, Tremont. I should be reporting violations left and right. You two are my biggest goddamn headache this side of the country. I wish just once I could go to California without getting yanked back here to sort the two of you out."
"We tried to leave you out of it, this time."
"Then you shouldn't have involved my fucking brother."
"That was entirely Alessandro's doing," Tremont replied. "Do not get upset with me over it. I didn't kill the stupid vampire, did I?"
Preston sighed. "Would you simmer down for a few months? Or learn to share or something? Honestly, the two of you drive me crazy."
Tremont bared his teeth in a nasty smile. "I would sooner kill myself than share anything with that bastard. I'll lay low, however. There's no choice until this wound heals. You wouldn't report it anyway, because otherwise you'd have to report the dhampir and I can see you don't want to do that."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's not start listing all the reasons we can blackmail each other, Tremont. We'd be here all fucking day. Just lay off Alessandro, I'm tired of hearing about your bitch fits."
"Get out," Tremont said. "I've had more than my fill of hunters this century."
Preston smirked briefly. "Too bad. I'll be back next week according to our regular schedule."
"Wonderful," Tremont muttered. "Go away until then."
Locke swore colorfully as he stomped from the room, badly wishing he could shoot something. He was fucking sick and tired of asking questions and getting shitty answers. It had taken them for fucking ever just to get to Tremont, and now they were still stuck in square one.
Was Key even still alive?
"I guess we should have started with Alessandro," Preston said as they stepped into the elevator. Tremont's penthouse was at the top of the highest building in the city. Alessandro, several hours away, lived in much the same manner.
Key had often made cracks about bats in belfries.
Locke frowned and holstered his guns.
The elevator chimed as they reached the bottom, doors sliding open, and Locke walked as quickly as he could from the building and down into the parking garage.
He ignored Preston, who tried a few times to call out to him, and threw himself into his car, peeling out of the parking garage as quickly as he could without killing anyone.
The drive to Alessandro's city was interminable. He wanted to scream. Or punch someone. When they finally reached the city, and Alessandro's skyscraper, he was ready to commit mass murder.
A warning look from Preston was all that kept him behaving as they rode an elevator to the top. A flash of their licenses and the security guard at the desk had only nodded mutely – an adjusted vamp, one who'd been turned and managed not to break. A pity, cause Locke really wanted to shoot someone.
Locke didn't know how Preston did it. He much preferred the shoot'em up side of the vampire business. See problem. See problem with giant hole in its chest. See problem go away.
When the elevator doors slid open, Alessandro was in the lobby – obviously waiting for them.
"Sandro," Preston greeted.
"Preston," Alessandro replied, and Locke rolled his eyes as the vampire kissed each of Preston's cheeks. Tops. He wished the fuckers had stayed in the dark ages. The older the vamp, the more annoying. He really didn't know how Preston put up with all their shit.
"You're causing trouble again, Sandro," Preston said. "One of these days I won't be able to keep the two of you from facing the music."
Alessandro chuckled. "I was trying to do you a favor, Preston, by keeping you out of this."
"By involving my brother?" Preston snorted. "Not buying it."
Alessandro merely laughed again. "I admit that was not the wisest decision, but I was not willing to trust the matter to another hunter. I had hoped by the time you heard of it, the matter would have been resolved."
"How is Heath?" Preston asked, shaking his head.
"Fuck that," Locke cut in. "Where in the goddamn hell is Key?"
Alessandro laughed again. "What makes you think I have him?"
Locke raised his Smith & Wesson, ignoring the warning look from Preston. "Tell me where he is or I'll do to you what I should have done in the first place, bitch."
"I can see the family resemblance," Alessandro said with a laugh, sliding Preston an amused look. "However, he lacks your…polish."
"Mama tried to polish him, and pop tried to beat manners into him, but I'm afraid Locke was always a lost cause," Preston said with a smile. "However, I will take his side in this. Where's Key?"
"In one of my guest rooms," Alessandro said. "Down the hallway, third door on the right."
Locke holstered his weapons and stormed past him, throwing open the doors to the penthouse proper. He ignored the handful of vampires he saw sitting around and barreled down the hallway.
He hesitated briefly as he reached the right door, hand resting lightly on the knob.
Then he scowled and pushed the door open, almost slamming it shut behind him.
Key was out cold on the bed, blankets shoved back to reveal him dressed in nothing more than a wife beater and the stupid Halloween boxers he'd bought one year with little cartoon vampire bats all over them.
He looked like shit, bandages and bruises all over the place. Despite that, he still was the finest thing Locke had ever laid eyes on. Striding to the bed, Locke sat carefully down on the edge of it. Hesitantly he reached out to touch Key's cheek, tracing the curve of it lightly, up and then down to his jaw.
The bruises from his punches had faded, but there were far too many to replace them.
Key's eyes fluttered, and Locke hastily withdrew his hand
Too blue eyes opened and immediately found him – and the sleepiness abruptly vanished, and the coolness that replaced it made Locke sick to his stomach.
Wincing in pain, Key sat up and scooted as far away as the bed would allow. "What the fuck do you want?"
Locke balled his hands into fists, staring at them a moment before looking at Key again. "I'm an asshole."
"Yeah," Key said, laughing bitterly. "You are. That still doesn't explain why you're here. In fact it would better explain why you wouldn't be here."
"I’m here because I'm an asshole who wants to say he's sorry," Locke snapped.
Key said nothing.
Locke stifled a sigh. He'd known this wasn't going to be easy. "I fucked up, all right? I shouldn't have acted as I did."
"You didn't even give me a fucking chance to explain," Key said. He raked a hand through his hair, looking angry and miserable and defeated. Locke hated it. "I can't fucking help what I am, and I never told you because I knew you'd hate me for it, but goddamn it – I was there for you for how fucking long? You could have let me explain."
"I know," Locke said. He did. "You shouldn't have fucking kept it secret. There were better ways to let me know than to hear it from a motherfucking top. You're an asshole too."
"How was I supposed to?" Key asked angrily. "Everyone fucking hates me. Alessandro is the first vamp I've ever met who didn't want to kill me straight off. Humans want nothing to do with me when they figure out I'm half vamp. It’s not my goddamn fault I was born like this, and being a half breed doesn't mean I suck blood. I never have. I can't heal, I'm not long-lived, and being out in direct sunlight for too long makes me sick. I have sharp teeth and some resistance to sunlight, and I like my steaks rare. That's fucking it. But everyone hates me for it. If keeping my being a dhampir a secret is the only way I can get anyone to care about me, fine. You try being hated your whole life, Locke. Fuck you."
Locke glared at him. "I would have fucking dealt, asshole. Over five years, and how did you expect me to fucking react? Shit, you know me and secrets. Fuck you."
"I'm not Steven!" Key snarled.
"I know!" Locke replied, shouting the words. "Christ all fucking mighty, I know. I get it. I already said I fucked up. It was a nasty surprise, but I'm here aren't I? Shit, you know me." He scrubbed tiredly at his face. "You know me better than anyone, Key. Why did you do this by yourself?"
"You didn't even give me a chance to explain," Key said quietly, speaking more to the mattress than to Locke. "You hit me twice and essentially told me to fuck off. You're hardly the first. It hurt. You told me to do it myself, even though you knew it would be stupid to try. Go to hell."
Locke sighed. "It never occurred to me you would try. You're supposed to be the smart half, remember?"
"Yeah, but I didn't need the whole fucking world knowing I was a dhampir," Key said bitterly. "You walked out on me. I had no fucking choice."
Closing his eyes, Locke called himself every nasty name he could think of. "I guess that's that, then." Shit, right now he kind of wished Steven hadn't missed when stabbing him. It would have sucked a lot fucking less than this.
He'd expected to be paying for his fuck up for a long ass time…but it hadn't really occurred to him that things would end end. Somehow he'd just assumed they'd be partners again. Key had never looked that cold, though. It seemed pretty clear the conversation was over…that everything was over.
"So what are you going to do once you're all healed up?" he asked.
"What the fuck do you care?" Key asked.
Locke sighed. "Right. None of my business anymore. I just—oh fuck it. Just find yourself a partner less stupid, all right?" He stood up and strode to the door.
"So you're leaving again?" Key asked.
"What the fuck do you want me to do?" Locke snapped, back to shouting. "You obviously don't want me to stay."
Key glared at him. "I want to know why you're here."
"I already fucking told you – I'm sorry I was an asshole. How many fucking times do I need to say it?"
"So you're sorry? That's it?"
"What do you mean that's it?" Locke demanded, exploding. "I'm here, how much more fucking obvious can I be? Do I need to spell it out that I want you back?"
"Yes," Key snapped, shouting now too. "Yes, you need to spell it out you motherfucking asshole. You punched me. Twice. You left me to deal with the vampires alone. You completely fucking bailed on me, asshole. So motherfucking spell it out, cause you sure as fuck made it clear before that you hated me."
Muttering several colorful oaths, Locke stalked back to the bed and knelt on it, looming over Key – then kissed him, and oh fucking hell he'd needed that. Groaning, he sank a hand into Key's hair and kissed exactly as he'd wanted ever since they'd first met. Key tasted a little bit like medicine, but otherwise he was pure Key, hot and male and it fixed every little thing that had been wrong since he'd stormed out.
"Is that spelling it out enough for you?" he asked when they finally broke apart.
Key blinked, looking more than a little dazed, and Locke allowed himself to feel more than a little smug. Then his expression cleared, and Key shook him hard. "You're still in deep shit, asshole. For like, a very long time."
"Yeah, I already knew that. Trust me." Locke would have laid down from sheer relief except he liked the position he was in just fine. "So does this mean we're back together?"
"More like finally together, but yeah," Key said warily. "I'm a dhampir and suddenly you're okay with that?"
"Suddenly my ass," Locke replied. "It took several days, my brother kicking my ass, and seeing you again. I really don't give a fuck what you are, so long as you're mine. Now stop forcing me to sound like a girl, asshole."
Key smiled, like really smiled, his blue eyes blazing with it. "I'm pretty sure a girl would have apologized better than you."
"Shut up," Locke said, and kissed him again so Key would shut up and because now that everything was perfect he had almost six years worth of frustration to finally work out.
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Date: 2007-12-23 11:26 pm (UTC)Eh. I'll get over it. Writers don't improve if their idiocy isn't pointed out. I don't seem to be getting it though - try amasour @ msn.com I only list that gmail 'cause otherwise LJ doesn't send me comment notifications.
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Date: 2007-12-23 11:50 pm (UTC)Re-sent. ^^
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Date: 2007-12-23 11:56 pm (UTC)My emails don't seem to like you, though I'd swear you've emailed me before and I got them fine. I'm sure it'll pop up, but it's still fracking weird.
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Date: 2007-12-24 12:07 am (UTC)