Collectors

[Ehcorn]

The response Mick gave wasn’t what he’d expected, but perhaps he should’ve. His new assistant had proven himself to be a good little soldier: doing what he was told, acting in the best interest of William and his business. There’d been some hiccups — like the instance Mick had flung himself against the bars of the werewolf's cage and begged to be let out  — but in the end, he’d done what had needed to be done. They had their sample. Because of Mick, his trials could begin as soon as he was able to use his hands again.

As Mick drew closer, his attention shifted to his jumping pulse point and a primal urge to consume fresh blood broiled to the surface. If he only fed a little, then perhaps… But no. They'd left evidence of his failure to stop in the garage.

His gaze shifted downwards to the tweezers in Mick’s hand. I need you to remove these pieces of shirt, he said. He began to push himself  upright, clenching his jaw tightly enough he was surprised his molars didn’t crack. The skin can’t heal until they're out.

[Trillian]

Mick licked his lips with unconsciousness compassion for how dry William looked. He stared at the cavity that should've been William's chest and at the fibres he could see melded into flesh, now that he was closer and studying more intently. Bile threatened to rise but he pushed it down and forced himself to enter his mental state of doing without thinking.

His 'deal with it' mentality allowed him to carefully extract each strand that didn't belong in William's flesh, with a gentle touch and a steady hand that didn't wish to take more skin than required. It looked like he was sewing except he was undoing rather than creating; but they were both mending.

It took him over an hour to get it all and at the end he inspected William's charred body without any thoughts, even though he pulled himself out of it once the task was done. William would want him alert and thinking, but during that time where he'd been up close and personal with the burnt vampire, he'd become familiar with his new visage. It was still monstrous but it didn't bother him as it had before; until he looked at William's terrifyingly recogniseable eyes.

[Ehcorn]

I won’t look like this for long, William said, though he couldn’t be certain. Any vampire he’d known that’d been touched by the sun’s rays or licked by open flame hadn’t survived. Thanks to the nymph and Mick, he'd begun a venture into the unknown. When he regained the use of his fingers, he might write a book about his experiences and give it out to his kindred. The chapter detailing his healing process would be easy to title. He'd call it: Things That Will Make You Wish You’d Died Instead.

If he’d been able to rise above the pain, perhaps it wouldn’t have been as bad, but more and more nerve endings were coming back online. He couldn’t ignore it. Just like he couldn’t ignore the hunger clawing at him, demanding that he rip Mick’s throat open and feast on him until his heart had nothing left to pump. What remained of his lips parted and revealed the tips of his fangs as he inhaled, catching Mick’s sweet scent over that of his own burnt flesh.

He regretted it when his lungs made it clear they didn’t appreciate being inflated.
 
Coughing, however, was a good way to distract oneself from eating their daytime protector. William turned to grab onto the counter and wheezed and hacked until he spat up a congealed mass of ash and God knew what into the sink. Probably a piece of his lung. He squeezed his fingers, crunching one of the blood bags he’d thrown aside once he’d emptied it. He would’ve snarled at it if his lips had cooperated.

I need fresh blood. He swiped the bag onto the floor. Not this shit.

He pushed himself as far upright as he could manage and looked down the charred mass that had once been — in his opinion — a rather dignified looking nose.

And not from you. I need you.

His eyes narrowed.

Make sure it isn’t a nymph.

[Trillian]

Mick's breath hitched when William spoke about feeding. It wasn't so much the thought of death and dying though he really should have been bothered by it, but the knowledge that he turned horny as fuck when a vampire sucked on his neck. The idea of writhing and begging William to do things to him would be intensely humiliating and likely mortifying for the vampire in question as well.

William clarified with words that caught Mick's breath for an entirely different reason. I need you. A shiver raced up his spine and caused him to tense and vibrate his entire torso, gooseflesh prickling his arms and his ears doing that weird hollow thing that they did whenever he yawned. The harsh and wholly unnecessary command tagged on the end lost the potency of his earlier words and Mick nodded dutifully before turning away and fishing out his mobile.

He thumbed through his contacts until he got to one that was promising. A guy he'd worked a few jobs with and was currently a floater. He was a little older, hitting thirty, maybe a bit over. Mick was pretty sure he wasn't a druggie - one of only a handful in the business who kept themselves sober - but that was the only risk when it came to him. No hidden nymph powers or Mick would've seen them ages ago when they'd got into trouble a few times.

He dialled the number and listened to it ring. Just when he thought it wouldn't pick up, it did. "Hey, Stan, how you doing? It's Mick." A pause. "Mick from downtown. We did that job with the Russian, remember?" Another pause and then a sigh. "Mickey Mouse." The guffaws were so loud at the other end that Mick had to hold it away from his ear before putting it back. At least now he was remembered. "I got a job. It pays a thousand." A brief pause. "Body disposal and some cleanup. It's at this important dude's house, he wants it kept quiet, yeah?" After listening for a moment, Mick recited the address and asked "how long?" before he hung up.

Facing William, Mick said: "I hope you can wait half an hour." The question wasn't rhetorical because Mick was seriously hoping it. His stare made contact with William's haunting gaze and he couldn't look away.