Dark Beauty

I have a feeling my long pointless a/ns are starting to piss
people off. I dunno. Anyhoo… here’s another something I whipped up!

Disclaimer: Val Helsing belongs not
to me. Don’t sue. I don’t get paid for this gig, I just really have nothing
better to do… and I get twisted pleasure from it. Amen.

Be forewarned… I may draw on my yaoi
roots in this chapter. Also there will be an OC. But he’s one of my babies so
treat him nice… k? good.

“What is going on? Where is she?” Gabriel Van Helsing fumed
as he scanned the crowd of undead partygoers.

He could not even catch a whiff of the scent of the damsel in
distress he was trying to rescue, and the smells of the party weren’t helping
either. Everyone here smelt of fresh ashes.

Having recently been made a werewolf, Gabriel could sense far
more with his nose than his sight, thank God. Sight in such a place, full of
glitter and spectacle with blurs of waltzing shapes and colors, was not to be
trusted. He could tell beneath their masks that these people were not what they
seemed. Theirs was an empty jubilation. They were vampires.

He shuddered at the thought, drawing his gaze towards the
vaulted ceiling. He had once been on a job in London and there had been a
rescue of a girl involving her suspended from the arches in St. Paul’s
Cathedral. This might be a similar case.

But, no, it was not. No Anna bound and gagged struggling
against the ropes that chaffed her delicate skin, her hair tussled, and her
clothing in such disarray it might reveal a little peak at her ample… God. No.

Gabriel rubbed a finger to his temple. Now was not the time
for fantasies. He wasn’t sure if vampires could sense sexual arousal or not,
but he was certain they seemed to have enough blood lust to grant them that
capability. God help him.

Where was Anna? And where was Carl for that matter? They had
to kill Dracula and get out of here, what were they doing?

And he was still a werewolf. He really didn’t want to turn
that problem loose on himself. He was destined to go mad if he got any more
missions like this. Then again, if he could get another mission at all after
this one that didn’t involve his execution he would be the happiest man alive.

“It doesn’t take much, does it?”

The killer turned to find a young man behind him, looking
straight at him with swirling blue eyes. They spiraled downward, showing just a
hint of a soul beneath them, just a taste. For some reason, all Gabriel could
see were those eyes.

“I meant the party, it doesn’t take much to entertain
guests,” the boy’s speech was airy, as though he held himself above all others.
There was a flavor of an accent that added to the cause.

Val Helsing looked down at the marble patterns tracing the
floor. For a moment there he had thought the boy was reading his mind.

“Well, what do you expect when ancient bats throw together
some circus freaks just to draw attention to themselves?” the left hand of God
found himself responding.

The young man chuckled shortly. It sounded like echoes in a
tomb.

Gabriel chanced a second glance at the boy. The bright blue
enchantment of his eyes was still fixating, but he could see beyond that now.
Unlike most of the guests, he wore no mask, and his face was remarkably pretty.
A thin face wrapped with powder pale skin, cheekbones resting it up and ever so
subtly sculpting the shape. His still lips were coated with black, his glorious
eyes shaded with sharp lines of the same color. In fact, his colors seemed to
be decidedly black and white, the white of his bare arms, the void black of his
cascading locks as they caressed the spaces above his eyes and landed somewhere
before his shoulders. Even his clothes followed the suit. His wore a leather
shirt that laced up with cords down the center, giving glimpses at a perfectly
toned chest. The pants he wore were equally compromising; tight and leather
they clung in all the right places.

Even the mighty Van Helsing had to swallow and look back down
at the floor, trying not to feel any warmth belong his hips. What kind of holy
man was he, anyway? First that whole thing about Anna being tied to the ceiling
and now this guy… GUY… he wasn’t… into guys. He wasn’t even supposed to be into
girls. But, if anyone, he should have at least been into girls. At least that
was… natural.

“You know, I’m glad for once, someone agrees with me,” he
smiled, baring two canines larger than usual.

And he’s a vampire. Perfect. Let’s get turned on by the nice
vampire boy. Gabriel shook his head and started to turn around.

The boy was right up in his face in an instant, making the
man’s eyes widen, and his heart beat speed rapidly.

“Don’t be so quick to leave. I haven’t gotten your name yet,”
his breath felt like cool fall breeze on Van Helsing’s cheek.

“I suppose you should tell me yours first. Then we’ll go from
there.”

yes"> Oh, very nice save there. Just play it cool as always, while
inside you’re a mess. Sometimes he worried about himself.

“My name is Vance Gavorikin,” he lead a swift finger up to
the other man’s neck, brushing over the veins, making them shiver from the
physical contact. “And I think I know where to go from here.”

There was a chilled silence, Vance stood, his finger poised
on Gabriel’s neck, marking a spot he desperately wanted to bite. It was obvious
if you looked into his eyes.

“You know who I am then,” the older man stood his ground,
acting unfazed by threats. In reality he truly was unafraid, but unfazed was
hardly the word. The young vampire was starting to make him feel things in
places that he didn’t want to get so much attention, especially not from
another man.

“I think I might. You look like the slayer we have been
warned of,” Vance stepped closer, there chests touched, resonating body heat in
sparks as though caught fire.

“If you were warned then why are you not afraid of me. Why
don’t you kill me first, before I kill you?” Gabriel’s posture was rigid; his
eyes were blank and focused straight ahead.

“Because,” he had to stand on tiptoes as he leaned into the
man’s ear and whispered the last part. “I have a better use for you than a
corpse. Correct me if I’m wrong, but, you seem to be feeling the same way,
Gabriel.”

Great, he could sense a hard-on. Not only that, he already
knew Van Helsing’s name. And his spooky confidence was not doing any one a
favor, least of all, the “straight” killer’s dick.