Blood and Chocolate

Blood and Chocolate

Chapter Five

In Which There is Time Spent at Las Noches and Demons

(Not the fuzzy, toast-bearing kind) Are Mentioned

*

"Malfoy, where are we going?"

"Out."

"Out where?" Harry groaned in exasperation.

"We're going to drop by Las Noches," Draco elaborated, stopping for a moment so that Harry could catch up. The vampire was taller than he was, with longer legs, and a longer gait. It was difficult at times to keep up with him.

"What's the Las Noches?"

"A bar. Where the slimy and corrupted meet to have a drink or two."

"A what?" Harry demanded. Draco grinned slightly.

"Honestly, Potter, you're brushing up against the edges of ignorance. Las Noches is a bar. A bar where demons, werewolves, shapechangers, vamps, and other icky things hang out. I'm hoping to find an old friend who can sum a couple of questions up for me-oh, and I'm hoping to get drunk. Helps smooth things up a bit, you know." Harry wrinkled up his nose in disgust, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"But I can't drink-I'm a minor."

"True," Draco agreed. "I've got stuff in my fridge older than you. Look, Potter. Nobody messes with my crowd. I'll just say you're a young vamp-maybe a hundred or so."

"Just how old are you?" Harry asked curiously, trotting to keep up with Draco. The vampire muttered something akin to "Old enough," and refused to embellish any further.

"Before we go in," Draco said in a three-eighty subject turn. "There are some rules you need to follow. Number one, do not stare at anything that has one too many eyes or is missing a couple legs. Scraps around the Las Noches are fierce, and I don't want you offending anything that could use you as a toothpick. Don't flirt with any girls. Most of them just want to lure you away to-well, you get the picture. And if I get in a fight," Draco pursed his lips, looking fierce. "Don't get in my way. Magic is forbidden in the bar, so don't even think about it."

"So you basically want me to sit in a corner and pretend I don't exist?" Harry queried a bit sourly.

"Well, yeah. And don't worry-I'm gonna get you drunk, and then I'll find out all your nasty little secrets and post them all over the school. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"What if I don't get drunk?"

"Don't worry. You will."

*

"So how many?" Harry was rather appalled to find that Draco was blurred disturbingly, and that, funnily enough, he had no problem with it at all. At first the Las Noches' interior had put him on edge with its black tables, black walls, dizzying blood-red disco lights, and harsh, loud music, but now that he had had a couple unidentifiable drinks, the landscape seemed to fade away and blur. Draco didn't seem any worse for wear and he had had far more to drink then Harry had-if nothing else, Malfoy seemed a bit more chipper.

"I'll take your silence as you haven't had any at all," Draco grinned, laughing.

"So what?" Harry growled grouchily. "It's not my fault that--" Draco was wiping tears from his eyes from laughing so hard.

"It's not your fault that the great Harry Potter is virgin? Oh my, that's a wonderful cover-up..."

"And you have done it before? With who?" Harry demanded, noticing that he sounded just a wee bit slurred. He watched him carefully, and seemed to be fighting laughter again.

"Harry, you're absolutely smashed." Harry looked down at his drink, not even recognizing that Draco had called him by his first name. Maybe the vamp was more intoxicated than he had taken him for.

"I've never drank like this...before," he replied, shaking his head as to clear it of fog. An odd, worried look passed over Draco's features; he gently held Harry's shoulder, keeping him at least semi-steady.

"Look, if you need to lie down a bit--" Draco was cut off as a hand slipped down his shoulder, to hug around his neck. Surprised, he twisted in his chair...to find himself face-to-face with another vampire. She had wide, dark eyes, black hair, and a tight-fitting red dress that felt as if it were made of silk.

"Since when have you drunk with humans instead of from them, Dracconis?" she purred, running a red tongue over her fangs. He felt something like rage boil deep in his belly.

"Fala?" he asked, masking his anger with a cool, icicle-brittle voice. "Why aren't you hanging all over Jager? I'm sure he'd enjoy your company so much more than I am." Instead of detaching herself from Draco, as she should have, she took a long sip of his drink, than threw the glass over her shoulder. She shivered elegantly at the tinkling of the broken glass.

"I love the sound of breakage," Fala said, he voice thick and sensuous. Draco chanced a look at Harry. He had fallen asleep face-first on the table.

There was no way under heaven that Potter would ever become a serious alcoholic. He was too much of a lightweight. Typical Gryffindor.

"God, Fala, cradle robbing again?" a sharp, commanding voice said from behind them. Draco would have turned, but seeing as Fala had a death-grip on his neck, that option was nearly impossible. He only had to see the flash of a Vida blade held in leather thigh-sheath to know that he was either in ever deeper trouble, or he was about to be saved. Either way, he wasn't sure he wanted it. Fala hissed in his ear.

"Get out of here Aubrey," she growled. "You traitorous bitch. Killing our own kind--!"

"I only kill weaklings," Aubrey replied coolly, taking a seat next to the passed-out Harry. "Seems you're up for grabs, then, huh?"

"Bitch," Fala repeated, whirling away from Draco and disappearing. Obviously, not even Fala wanted a confrontation with the infamous Aubrey. Not that he could blame her. Aubrey's father had messed up more than one night at Las Noches with a good fight or two, and his daughter was well into following in his footsteps. Aubrey seemed to already have forgotten Fala and her intrusion, and was giggling like a schoolgirl at Harry, who was presently drooling and snoring softly.

"Potter's not much for alcohol," Draco explained, rubbing his neck. Fala's long nails had done a job on his skin-he was just surprised she hadn't accidentally slit his throat with those claws of hers. Aubrey pretended not to see or hear him; she brushed back Harry's dark hair from his forehead with gentleness unlike her. Harry mumbled something about Hermione in his sleep.

"He's so much like Prongs," Aubrey said thoughtfully. Draco stole what was left of Harry's drink and took a sip.

"Nah," he said. "James was at least good for five drinks. Potter passed out after three. Now then, what are you doing here, Aub?" She shrugged.

"Ra'iz said you were in town. Mentioned something about 'damn good toast,' so I figured you had someone staying with you."

"Potter's taken with the little demon," Draco apologized. Again, Aubrey laughed, and Draco rather wondered if she was intoxicated, or in a really, really good mood. Probably just a little tipsy. She smiled at him, and he found himself wondering what she was so happy about.

"Well, I thought I'd find you here. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for leaving Hogwarts like that-I was a little confused myself, really." Surprisingly, Draco returned the smile.

"Don't worry about it. You're stressed enough, already, what with the Circle of Six after you." Aubrey sighed, and shook an awry strand of red hair from her eyes.

"Please, don't remind me. I'm so lost as is, and now I've got 'the Law' after my blood. Now all I need is a nice demon horde on my ass and I'll be able to cope."

"Cope?" Draco grinned as he sipped what was left of Harry's unfinished drink. "Girl, you'd just blow everything up. That's how you cope."

*

The woman with the golden hair drew a circle in the sand with her slender finger, impatiently brushing a long lock of curly hair from her cheek. She wore pure white robes; gauzy, and nearly see-through, barely muting the slender curves of her body. A creature vaguely cat-like in shape crouched by her ankle, its misty blue eyes fixed on her as she added a five-pointed star to the center of her circle.

"'White coral bells, upon a slender stalk,

Lilies of the Valley deck my garden walk.

Oh, don't you wish, that you could hear them ring?

That could happen only when the fairies sing...'" The girl's voice was sweet and lilting, like a clear crystal bell. "He's come back, you know," the golden maiden told her companion. "I asked Jager to call him up for me and make him what he was. Jager said it's to be my job to tell him of the future," she paused. "Our future. He only left me because of...because of..." Suddenly her face clouded with an inexplicable anger, her full lower lip jutting in a girlish pout. "We won't let her interfere again, will we, my pet?"

The shining girl finished her diagram by drawing a single teardrop within the five-pointed star.

*

Harry awoke with a gasp. His eyes automatically slid to look at the digital clock-it was two in the morning. Draco was asleep next to him, snoring softly, and that struck Harry funny, that a vampire had the ability to snore.

Harry scooted closer to Draco; it was cold, even for December. Closing his eyes, he struggled to remember the dream that had woken him up in the first place.

There had been a girl-and, it wasn't his first time dreaming about her-she was small, maybe fourteen, with large blue eyes, and wavy blond hair. Perfect little cherubic angel look. But there was something about her that set his teeth on edge, something deeper and darker that the sweet facade hid.

"Whatchya thinkin' 'bout?" A squeaky voice whispered, and Harry resisted howling at the sudden appearance of a pair of glowing green eyes.

"Ra'iz, don't sneak up on me like that," he hissed back. The demon scampered from the foot of the bed, settling down to sit on Harry's stomach, grinning at him in the dark.

"Betcha can't guess wha' I found ou'," she taunted, licking a paw with cat-like askance.

"You're right," Harry said, not bothering to whisper. He'd found out that Draco slept like the dead-wait, no, bad example. Whatever. Draco slept hard. "I can't guess. Tell me."

"Da Circle of Masters are gatherin'," the demon replied, her eyes gleaming.

"And that means...?" Suddenly, Draco cursed loudly and descriptively from beside him, throwing a pillow with considerable force at Ra'iz. She was booted off the bed, squealing profanities. When her fuzzy head popped up again, her ears were rumpled and she looked pissed indeed.

"How could you let them Call a Circle?" Draco howled, his silver eyes aflame. Harry fought the urge to crawl under the bed.

"I didn't LET 'em!" screeched the demon. "Ya knew dey were gonna do it 'ventually! Anywho, it's already done wit! Jager, Fala, Indigo, an' Moira put 'gether a followin'." Ra'iz's voice dropped. "Dey've claimed New Mayhem. Barricaded it. Dey're openin' da gates, Draco."

"I thought you said they barricaded the city," Harry said. "Do you mean they barricaded it, than opened the gates?" Draco shoved Harry off of the bed; he fell with a yelp, a tangle of long legs, and a twist of sheets.

"No, you nitwit, they're opening the Forbidden Gates. The fools. Have you ever heard of the Astral Plane?"

"Jus' a 'nother name fer hell," Ra'iz muttered helpfully. "Dey're gonna open da gates of hell an' let all da mean demons out." Draco slid out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Where are you going?" Harry demanded. "I WILL NOT have you flouncing about in the middle of the night with demons from hell running amuck!" He glanced sheepishly down at Ra'iz. "No offense, of course."

"I've gotta talk to Aubrey," Draco explained, putting his sunglasses in his pocket just in case he wasn't back before morning. It was never good for a vamp to be caught in broad daylight without protective eyewear-the light didn't burn vampiric skin, as the old wives' tale went, but it did tend to irritate his eyes.

Harry chewed on his lower lip, obviously not completely convinced that this was a good idea.

"Be back...soon," he said quietly. Then he stiffened. "Ra'iz's staying with me."

"Why?"

"'Cause this city scares the crap out of me. Heck, I room with a demon and a vampire. I don't even want to think about what must be crawling about out there!"

*

The golden child of Light slid her small, soft hand down her sister's cheek. She had never loved her sister. They were connected deeper than anyone--mortal or otherwise--could be, and yet she could not find it in her to love her.

Or, for that matter, to kill her.

Because they were, in the end, just one entity, and to kill her sister would mean her own death.

"And so I have a better fate for you," the child of Light whispered to her darker counterpart, a smile playing on her full lips. "This should be quite entertaining indeed."

*

Zachary, Zo', and Hunter were immortal, like their mistress. They had been born into a day where cats were worshiped as gods and had regressed to living in an age where cats, if not kept as pets, lived in the slummier places. But, thankfully, Aubrey had found the three tuxedo-marked cats and had blood-bonded them; as long as she lived, they did as well. They could get run over by disgruntled taxi cab drivers, they could eat bad rats, they could chew on telephone wires if it so pleased them, and still they would live.

And, thankful of the gift she had given them; the cats took great pride in protecting their mistress to the best of their felinish abilities.

This included playing watchdog when old boyfriends came to call. Even if Aubrey wasn't home-she hadn't come home that night, but this hardly surprised the cats-they would still protect the empty apartment.

"Honestly-you guys know me! Draco, remember?" Zachary, largest of the cats and altogether the elected leader, flattened his ears and hissed. "Ah. I'll take that as a no." Zo', the female, sat back on her haunches and licked her paw.

're the only other vamp Aubrey lets in the house.> Hunter, who was eternally a kitten, sniffed Draco's ankle and then rubbed against him, purring.