Page 27 of Red Rooster

“That’s enough,” Sasha said, snapping his teeth with a threateningclickfor emphasis.

“It’s alright,” Nikita soothed, but Sasha was having none of it.

“No, it’s too much.Stop.” He reached down and took a fistful of Alexei’s hair, and yanked his head back. It was a disturbing sight: slack mouth dripping blood, dilated eyes, the dreamy haze of bloodlust satisfied.

Was this what Nikita looked like when he drank? When he took from his poor wolf again and again? He shuddered.

Sasha pushed himself between him and Alexei, shooing the tsarevich back on his heels with a stream of irate Russian, herding Nikita back behind him, shielding him.

Nikita elevated his injured wrist and clapped his other hand to it; he could feel it starting to knit beneath his palm. Blood trickled out from between his fingers, but then the accelerated clotting factor kicked in. Too late though, maybe, as a rush of static filled his head and he swayed dangerously to the side. Oh. Yes, it had been too much.

Sasha’s arm caught him around the shoulders and steadied him. “Let’s go sit down.”

“No.” Nikita shook his head, and some of the static cleared. He would have to feed, and soon, but he could soldier through for the moment. No different than all his dizzy spells back during the war. “I need to do this.”

Sasha snorted in clear disapproval, but stayed where he was. “I’ll hold you up, then.”

Nikita smiled. “Don’t you always?”

~*~

There really wasn’t anywhere to sit, so they stood in a rough circle on the pavement. Sasha refused to take his arm away, and though Nikita rolled his eyes, he was secretly grateful; he wasn’t sure his knees would hold at this point, as the underfed shivers started moving up and down his limbs.

Trina had had a water bottle in the car and with it they’d cleaned most of the blood from Lanny’s knuckles and Alexei’s face. Alexei wore a fading black eye, and the wide split in his lip was in the process of disappearing, but he seemed otherwise alright, boosted by a healthy dose of Nikita’s blood. Lanny kept stealing glimpses of the tsarevich, outwardly shocked as he watched his face stitch itself back together; then he would look down at his own hands and see the same thing, clearly marveling.

Poor Jamie Anderson looked like he wanted to run as far and as fast away from all of them as possible. He stayed, though, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot, chewing at his lower lip. Nikita had learned a long time ago that there was bravery in the simple act of staying, no matter how badly it frightened you.

Alright. Down to business.

Nikita fixed Alexei with a look. “If you don’t stop turning people, I’m going to put you down.” No frills, no pleading. “I will snap your neck like I did Chad Edwards’, and I’ll drag you up to that warehouse, cut the heart from your body and burn it. Do you understand?”

“Shit,” Lanny muttered.

Alexei cocked his head, attempting a bored air. Fear caught the light like new pennies in his eyes, though. “Do you think you could?”

“I know I could, you pampered little shit.” Nikita heard the coldness in his words, each falling like a stone. He didn’t sound angry, he knew; he sounded heartless. “You and your summer dachas, and your nannies, your little sailor suits. I’m one of Stalin’s killers, and I’ll kill you without breaking a sweat.”

“I left the nursery a long time ago,” Alexei shot back. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I know Lanny just put you on your ass.”

“Boys,” Trina said, quietly.

Right. Focus.

Nikita took a deep breath. “You will not terrorize this city,” Nikita said.

“Lanny was dying,” Alexei said, indicating him with a wave. “He was sick – I know you could smell it, too. I didn’t terrorize him; I saved his life.”

“Without his consent,” Sasha said.

“You might think immortality is a gift,” Nikita said, “but you can’t go around handing it out like it’s Christmastime. And you can’t turn someone just to cover up the mistake of drinking too much.” Nikita felt his face harden into a scowl. “I can’t decide if you have no self-control, or if youlikeit. All the chaos. Changing people.”

“I don’t…” Alexei’s frown dissolved, revealing the panic and anguish underneath. Maybe he was a good actor. Maybe. “I don’t like hurting anyone,” he said, sad but fierce. “Idon’t. Sometimes I get too hungry. Or I get hurt, and I bleed too much. And sometimes, I just…” He gusted out a breath. “I’ve been alone a very long time,” he whispered.

And Nikita understood a little better. He sighed. “You can’t make yourself a family, Alexei.”

Alexei’s lips twitched upward in an unhappy smile. “Well, it hasn’t worked so far, has it?”

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