The Vampire's Last Omega

Lost Time

As they went nearer to the light, the tunnel became smaller on all sides. It was impossible for Blaise to carry Lucas. He had to drag him backward to the rabbit den entrance, crawling inch by inch army-style over Rei's brown blood.

Lucas could not respond, too stunned to speak coherently. His deadweight made it challenging.

"Work with me," Blaise growled, but he just stared at nothing.

I suppose it is a given. Seeing a brutal death can do that to a person, especially if it is someone they know.

His feet touched the end. Blaise kicked the thick layer of burned vines crisscrossing across the tiny exit. It became clear why humans never knew of its hidden existence between a tree and stacks of rock layers. Besides Rei and the killer, animals were the only creatures to know of it, given the shit he glided over; literal shit!

Blaise coughed when the wind blew white ash at his face. The smokey air stung their lungs with every inhale. He covered Lucas's nose quickly to protect his already dire condition. Everything was gone. Incinerated. Fallen. Dead.

After Blaise took off that crime-to-fashion coat, he rushed south until they were out of the wildfire-affected area. The black surroundings turned to grey. Grey turned to brown. Brown turned to green. Toxic air became breathable.

Soon enough, he found hope.

He came across a run-down highway. Two familiar pheromone colors peppered the fractured pavement, recognizing the blue and green instantly. It was fresh, too. They had passed through here within the last few days. The shimmering line would lead them straight to his brother.

Blaise sighed in relief when he heard a river in the distance. More hope! The water should be fine to drink. He placed a shocked Lucas on his back beside the calming stream and squeezed his mouth open.

As Blaise washed his hands and cupped them to gather water, he recoiled.

"Fuck!" he screeched. What looked back at him was his reflection. Half of his face was clear of make-up where his skin and skull regrew. The other side was smudged with crusty mascara. Parts of his hair were burned and dyed in blood. What remained of his torn outfit was laughable. The hole in his belly was almost healed, but it still looked horrible. And the smells wafting from him. Dear heavens, it was rancid. "Did I really walk around like this? You know what? Nevermind. Nevermind! Just deal with it later."

His cupped hands touched Lucas's dried lips and released cool water down his throat.

The water came back up like a geyser. Lucas coughed and coughed. He murmured, "More." The daze was gone.

"Welcome back," Blaise said. He leaned to the right to gather water and leaned back to the left to let him drink. Right. Left. Right. Left.

This repeated for a while. Blaise finally got a good look at Lucas in the daylight. The darkness had obscured just how truly awful he was - red splotches covering his hands and legs, face gaunt from not eating, dark circles under his eyes, and the festering wound that rejected the vampire's saliva.

The hope slowly diminished.

Septic shock.

Let's not forget how he was constantly sleeping. Confusion should be next. His pain will be immense soon. Blaise was already dreading his screams and discomfort. The next stage...

Blaise did not want to think about it. He stroked his virtue's greasy hair.

I won't let you die. I got you out sooner than planned. Only a little more than a day.

He took out the remaining glow sticks from their pockets and counted. His mind reeled.

One. Two. Two left? How many did we start with? Five? Half of one is lit. I think we used two and a half days' worth of glow sticks. That would make today the seventh day.

The seventh day. His stomach dropped.

Epsilon was leaving at an unknown time. Could be early morning. Could be late evening. The code only said to meet on that day, which was day nine for them. Blaise had less than two sunrises to book it to Nashville.

"Shit. Shit!" he yelled. Blaise scooped up Lucas. He ran as fast as he could without hurting Lucas and followed Kieran's pheromones.

He ignored the herds of dead deer, no doubt slaughtered by a massive wolf. He ignored the slain vampire soldiers. He ignored the body pieces of Count James. He even ignored Lust's sixth sense that his brother had entered an unusual, strong rut.

Those were all the least of his worries.

If they missed that flight, Lucas would have a fate he never wanted.

And it wouldn't be death.