--

Kurt awoke to the smell of grass, and the touch of dandelion seeds against his cheek. He opened his eyes groggily, shifting from where he lay on the moist ground, and found that something was holding him in place.

Arms. Encircling him from behind.

Kurt's mouth felt dry. Slowly he wriggled out from Blaine's grasp, and his eyes fell on the vampyr's sleeping face for a moment. It was strange, how young he looked. It made Kurt feel a strange sense of bitterness; he didn't feel young at all anymore. He supposed he never would again.

Feeling vaguely numb, Kurt pushed himself to his feet and wandered to the nearby stream to wash himself off. It was impossible not to reflect upon the night before. He kept reminding himself that Blaine had been as much a victim of the witches' magic as he had, but he still felt an overwhelming amount of resentment for him. After all, Blaine probably wouldn't feel as violated and wounded as he did. Blaine would have just gotten what he wanted, wouldn't he?

He stripped off what remained of his clothes and washed himself, trembling with anxiety as he splashed the water over his skin. Despite the violation he still felt, he was far more concerned about the deal he had made with those witches. How could he have been certain that they'd deliver that medicine to his father? What if it had all been a ruse--and at what cost? Kurt wasn't even sure what Quinn had asked of him. He'd reacted purely out of desperation, and he was furious at himself for it.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realise that Blaine had wandered into the stream and had started stripping for a bath as well. Kurt sucked in a gasp at the sight of him, recoiling, but Blaine didn't seem to pay him much attention. Indeed, it was as if nudity was of little concern for him. He stripped and washed himself, showing no shame whatsoever, and it made Kurt envious if nothing else.

After a while, Kurt found himself actively watching Blaine. The daylight somehow made Blaine seem smaller, more human, and it was fascinating to see. Blaine noticed him staring and smirked, making Kurt blush and frown.

"See something you like, little sparrow?" Blaine remarked.

"Hardly," Kurt replied. "And I gave you my name. Use it." He turned away as he continued to wash himself, frustrated. Something grew in the back of his mind and swelled, and before he knew it he was turning back toward Blaine, hands dropping down from where he'd been splashing water over his dirty skin.

"Look at me," he told Blaine, who had bent down to wash his legs. The vampyr glanced up, curious and undoubtedly amused.

"Gladly," said Blaine, but Kurt ignored him.

"You're hiding something," said Kurt bluntly. "I've known it since the beginning, since--" He paused, flinching at the memory, then plowed forward. "Since you bit me for the first time. You lay a blanket upon me that night, then gave me a bed, and you--you've changed, your demeanor toward me--"

"You wish for an explanation I told you I would not give," Blaine interjected simply.
Kurt shook his head. "I no longer need one," he retorted. "I've been having these dreams ever since you took me-- But they aren't simply dreams, I know it. They're memories. We know one another, you and I. We met long ago. Didn't we?"

Blaine was utterly silent, stunned. Kurt stepped closer, paying no mind to Blaine's nudity or his own. He was beyond caring about such things. Now, all he wanted were answers.

"What is this offering?" he demanded. "What business do you have with the city leader? All along you've led me to believe that I am nothing but a lamb for slaughter, a bargaining chip, but I no longer accept that explanation. I refuse to be kept in the dark any longer. What exactly is the purpose of this journey, Blaine?"

Suddenly Blaine surged forward, seizing Kurt by the wrist. His expression had gone from shocked to dangerous in a matter of seconds, though Kurt could still see a faint note of panic in his eyes.

"Are you forgetting who has the upper hand here?" Blaine growled. "You are at my mercy, little sparrow. It would do you well to remember that."

"Is that so?" said Kurt softly in reply. He was frightened, but his eyes were steely, unyielding, and he refused to blink first. "But you've been nothing but a lapdog lately, haven't you?"
Blaine growled and squeezed Kurt's wrist hard, cutting off his circulation. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment--and then he relaxed, slowly releasing his grip. Kurt felt air return to his lungs.

"Always full of fire, you are," Blaine remarked, his smirk slowly returning. "It is what I find most interesting about you, little sparrow. Along with your tight little cunt, of course."

Kurt turned red and instantly covered himself up. Blaine let out a short, barking laugh and stepped out of the creek to dry himself off, leaving Kurt for the moment--who right then felt as though he were finally chipping the way to Blaine's humanity at last.

--

As morning left and afternoon was on its way to following it, the spires of the city finally came into view.

Kurt's jaw dropped as they walked across the field leading to the city gates, and he didn't make the effort to hide his awe in the slightest. He had never seen anywhere so big, sprawling and full of life, and he very nearly made a break to escape and explore once the vampyrs cleared the city limit and they were finally inside.

People were everywhere--salesmen hawking their wares, traveling performers, townspeople hurrying about on their daily errands. Kurt felt overwhelmed by the life flourishing around him, having spent so much time in the presence of death, and he couldn't stop smiling even though he was that much closer to his fate.

The younger vampyrs seemed to feel similarly. Marley kept wandering off to look at vendors, her face lighting up at the sights and sounds around her. Kitty went to pull her back, but soon found herself distracted by a table covered in beautiful necklaces. Kurt saw her drape one over Marley's neck and grin at her, and for a moment it seemed as though he were looking upon two regular young girls and not a pair of bloodthirsty creatures of the night.

"Let's keep moving," Blaine said at one point, but his voice could barely be heard in the bustle surrounding the group. Jake had wandered off to watch a group of street musicians with great interest, and Ryder was examining a caravan that clearly belonged to some sort of traveling circus.

"Come one, come all!" shouted the man seated outside of it. "Get your fortune told by the mysterious and wondrous Miss Unique!"

As Kurt got closer he got a better look at the man, and he gasped when he saw that he didn't have any legs. He wore a pair of patched-up trousers that were sewn around a pair of stumps, thick glasses and lurid clown makeup all over his grinning face. Kurt realized too late that he must have been staring, as the man immediately looked over at Kurt and pointed him out of the crowd.

"You two there! Care to know your future? Miss Unique will tell you for a paltry fee!"

At first Kurt didn't know who else the man was referring to, but then he saw Ryder being ushered toward the tent by another one of the performers. The man was tall and black-haired, and that was all that Kurt could make of him before he too was all but dragged into the caravan and forced to sit down.

The interior of the caravan was dark but for moody lighting cast by a small lamp situated next to a crystal ball. At the table sat a curvy woman with deep brown skin and sparkling eyes, and she smiled at Kurt and Ryder as they sat next to each other with no small amount of discomfort.

"There is unease between you," said the woman in a high, melodic voice.

"To say the least," said Kurt dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. He had little respect for charlatans like these, who made a mockery of the witchcraft that thrived in his veins like lifeblood. Ryder, however, was watching the woman with great interest.

Miss Unique sat back and started chanting, waving her hands around her crystal ball. It was all Kurt could do not to roll his eyes or leave, but in the end he was too polite to do so. When she opened her eyes, they seemed to sparkles less than before. Instead they were heavy-lidded and dulled, and when she spoke her voice sounded much lower.

"I see your fate," she said slowly. "All three of you."

"Three?" Kurt snorted. "But there are only two--"

"Shh!" said Ryder, tapping him on the arm and making him flinch.

"Two of you will face death," Miss Unique continued. "One of you has already faced it. You will overcome the rift between you. You will all find love in unexpected places. Those you have loved may turn against you, but those most loyal to you will remain. In the end, love will be what saves you from the monster."

Silence rung following Miss Unique's prediction. When it was done she seemed to come out of her trance, shaking her head and blinking rapidly. Kurt raised his eyebrows at her, clearly unimpressed, but Ryder seemed to buy it all completely.

The curtain hanging over the entrance to the caravan opened and Puck stuck his head in. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded of Ryder, and grabbed Kurt by the arm to haul him out. Ryder stood up reluctantly and followed them outside.

"What about my payment?" cried Miss Unique.

"Take this," said Puck, tossing her a necklace he had clearly stolen from a vendor.

Light flooded Kurt's vision and he squinted as he was ushered back into the throng of vampyrs, whose red cloaks were attracting quite a bit of attention from the townspeople. Blaine paid them very little mind, and didn't seem interested in the city or any of its attractions at all. He was focused singularly on a building at the far end, which looked very much like an old cathedral. As they got closer Kurt could see that it had been condemned for some reason--its windows were boarded shut, and it clearly had not been cared for in a very long time.

The sun was hanging low in the sky as they walked away from the city square and down several winding paths. Here, Kurt could see that the city became far less decadent. Trash, dirt and rats were abundant, and vagrants and prostitutes roamed the filthy streets. A scrawny young boy approached Kurt, holding his hands out for money or food, and Kurt just stared blankly at him before he was ushered along by Puck.

At the end of a winding street they came to the back entrance of the cathedral. Puck held Kurt with one strong hand on his shoulder and propelled him to the front of the line next to Blaine as Blaine walked forward and knocked on the door.

A rat scurried around Kurt's feet and he gasped, kicking it away sharply. A moment later the heavy wooden door creaked open, and a boy in an expensive-looking jacket greeted them with a bewildered expression on his pale, round face.

"What business brings you here?" he asked Blaine after a moment, swallowing nervously.

"That is for your leader and I to discuss," Blaine replied in a clear, stern voice. His hand closed around Kurt's bicep. "I bring tribute with me from the Hollow in exchange for an audience with him."

The round-faced boy's eyes trailed over Kurt, taking him in. He seemed uncertain.

"I will return shortly," he said curtly, turned around and closed the door.

Blaine's grip on Kurt's arm grew tighter. Annoyed, Kurt looked up at his face and was surprised to see a tense expression there; Blaine's jaw was tight, his eyes hard and his lips drawn into a thin line. He seemed utterly nervous and unsettled, and Kurt couldn't imagine why.

The wooden doors creaked open once more and they were once again greeted by the round-faced boy, who was accompanied by another young man in a similar expensive-looking jacket. They stepped aside, and Blaine led Kurt by the arm past the doors into the cathedral, with the rest of the company trailing behind.

Kurt had only ever been inside the church in the Hollow, and he was struck speechless by the cathedral's interior. Though old and thoroughly settled with dust, there was an ancient grandeur there that reminded Kurt of the fairy tales he read as a boy--of stately crowns, royal feasts and magnificent hearths. Light shone through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, creating stained-glass paintings on the red carpet beneath their feet. Kurt could see crows nesting in the rafters, and cobwebs draped over intricate sculptures that were made eerie by flickering candlelight.

They walked between rows of benches until they stopped at the altar, upon which Kurt could see a young man stretched lazily on his back, swirling a goblet around idly as he stared up at the dusty drapery above them. He didn't look at them as they approached.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he drawled, and Kurt found himself instantly disliking him. He had a sneering, self-possessed tone of voice that surpassed even Blaine's.

As he thought of Blaine Kurt looked over at him, and saw that his expression had gone from tense to strangely complacent--but not in his eyes. His eyes were burning with fury that Kurt had never seen before, and it frightened him. What frightened him more, though, was how his expression seemed to look pleadingly at this boy, as if the fury in his eyes didn't reach the rest of his body.

He said nothing as the young man slipped from the altar with a feline sort of grace and strode toward Blaine, taking a long drink from the goblet as his piercing green eyes surveyed the other's face. His lips came back faintly stained with red, and Kurt realized with a jolt that he was drinking from a cup filled with blood.

"Blaine," he said softly, bloodstained lips curling into a smirk.

"Sebastian," Blaine replied with a bow of his head. Kurt was frankly shocked to see such a thing--as, apparently, was Sebastian. The young man's eyebrows lifted, and he let out a short bark of laughter that echoed throughout the hall and caused a flurry of pigeons to scatter above.

"Well isn't this marvelous?" he said loudly, looking around at the company. "The gang really is all here, isn't it? Trent really did let all of you in. Astonishing. The boy's skull has always been on the thicker side, hasn't it boys?"

At first Kurt had no idea who Sebastian was speaking to--but then he saw shadows moving from the darkest corners of the church, slowly materializing as if from the darkness itself, and he was startled that he hadn't noticed them before. Just by the look of them Kurt could tell they were vampyrs as well, though they were quite different from the ones in Blaine's company. Where Blaine and the others were feral, filthy and dressed in rags, these boys wore clothes of rich materials that Kurt had never even seen before, and each and every one of them was as meticulously well-groomed as Sebastian was. They seemed more dangerous as well--if only for the way they slinked forward silently like cats hunting down their prey, as opposed to way Blaine and the others tended to charge blindly like rabid dogs.

"I can't imagine why you're here," said Sebastian softly, walking slowly toward Blaine. He didn't stop until he was nearly pressed against him, locking his gaze, green eyes flashing--And in an instant, Kurt felt like shoving him away. He didn't like that predatory look in his eyes, even if it was directed toward someone like Blaine.

And Kurt hated Blaine. Didn't he?

Not for the first time Kurt felt as though he were at a crossroads, torn from his heart's inability to reconcile his feelings for Blaine. All the horror and resentment and outright hatred had exhausted him deeply, and he wondered if he were merely protecting himself somehow by letting go of some of it, lest it eat him alive from the inside.

Regardless of what he felt, he still found himself shocked by Blaine's next words.

"I am returning to you," said Blaine clearly, looking Sebastian in the eye. "We are here to offer you our allegiance, Sebastian. We have brought tribute from the Hollow... Please accept it, and allow us back into your ranks."

Kurt stared at Blaine, dumbstruck, and gasped as he was pushed in front of Sebastian.

No matter how angry and torn he felt about Blaine, it was nothing in comparison to the utter revulsion Kurt experienced in Sebastian's presence. The man exuded arrogance that even Blaine couldn't match, and Kurt couldn't stand the relish in his eyes as he drank from the goblet, savoring the blood like a fine wine. Kurt watched as Sebastian's tongue darted out, licking up some of the droplets around his lips.

"That isn't animal blood, is it?" Kurt said softly.

There was a resounding silence, and Kurt could feel eyes from both companies on him from all sides, as if they were all shocked by his candor. Sebastian looked surprised as well--until he tilted back his head and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the cathedral.
It took a moment for Sebastian's laughing fit to end. When he finished, he grinned down at Kurt and thrust the goblet in his direction.

"Care for a taste?" he murmured.

"No thank you," said Kurt coolly.

Sebastian got closer, crowding Kurt, and lifted his chin gently with a finger. "I insist," he said softly, closing his fingers around Kurt's jaw, forcing it back.

Kurt saw movement in the corner of his eye as if Blaine had started to move and thought better of it. Sebastian just smirked wider--and with strength Kurt hadn't anticipated he forced Kurt's head back and tipped a large amount of the blood down his throat.

The taste was revolting--warm and metallic, coppery--and Kurt sputtered and gagged. Sebastian held his chin in place, keeping his head tilted back until he was forced to swallow. Once he managed to get it down Sebastian released him, moving so suddenly that Kurt strumbled forward and dropped to his knees on the ground. He coughed and spat, shaking wildly, desperate to get the horrid taste out of his mouth.

Sebastian was laughing again. "Pathetic!" he said loudly. "This tribute-- He isn't even a virgin. I can smell it." He nudged Kurt with his foot. "He's nothing but a little waif from the streets, isn't he? A common, filthy whore rat. And you call this a gift."

"My gift," said Blaine suddenly, stepping forward. "Is my allegiance."

From where he knelt Kurt could see that Blaine's hand had knotted into a fist, tight and white-knuckled. It looked as though he were barely restraining himself from striking Sebastian, but Kurt couldn't imagine why. They're old friends, aren't they? Kurt thought bitterly, feeling a sense of betrayal he didn't understand.

"Oh Blaine," Sebastian said softly, stepping close to Blaine again. "Lovely Blaine." He reached out a hand and stroked it through Blaine's dirty curls. "I've missed you, you know. I always thought you were better than playing in the mud with the other animals. You threw so much away, you know that, don't you?"

"I am here to rectify that," said Blaine, standing still as Sebastian caressed him. "I am-- I am returning to you. This is my home."

The vampyr boys were crowding in, closing around Blaine's company. Kurt felt Puck reach down and seize him by the arm, pulling him upright. The other vampyrs in Blaine's company looked tense as Sebastian's boys closed in, and Kurt could feel the hostility in the air around them. The tension was thick and suffocating, pressing in around the entirety of the cathedral, ready to burst--until Sebastian's laugh once again cut through the silence, ringing and uncomfortable.

"Why so tense, boys?" he said jovially. "We have here a feast, do we not?"

He reached out and seized Kurt, tugging him away from Puck.

"We will feast upon the human tonight," Sebastian announced, then smirked at Blaine. "A virgin though he may not be, I cannot deny my boys such a delicious and exceptional treat." He glanced around at the crowd of vampyrs before him. "It will be a celebration! To welcome our weary travelers home."

Kurt barely had time to formulate a response when he was suddenly crowded by a thick hoarde of hungry vampyrs. He let out a frightened cry as he was wrenched away from Blaine and the others, and he looked around at them as if desperately searching for help he knew would not come.

Honestly, what had he expected? He knew from the day he was taken that he was to be an offering--and yet the sense of betrayal and deep anguish poisoned his heart and bones, and he could only look in despair at the faces of the people he'd come to regard as unlikely yet steadfast companions as they watched his fate unfold. He'd never felt so utterly alone, and he could only struggle helplessly as he was dragged across the floor, lifted and tied down to the altar.

He cried out in fear as fangs flashed around him, but Sebastian's voice rang out once more, stopping them.

"Calm down boys," he ordered them. "We feast once we give our guests a proper tour of their new accommodations. Where are your manners?"

Kurt heard some of the vampyr boys mutter in disappointment as they pulled away, leaving him tied there on the altar. He saw Sebastian gesture to the company to follow him down a nearby hallway, where the cathedral seemed to open up to another building. The crowd of vampyrs spilled through, their footsteps echoing through the hollow walls, and Kurt caught Blaine's eyes just before they left.

They lingered for just a moment, and Kurt could say nothing. A tear rolled down across his cheek into his hair and he closed his eyes, unable to look any more.

--To be continued...