The vampire closed once more with the rapidly failing human, seeking to end the fight quickly and eagerly anticipating the taste of the warm blood as it slid across his tongue and down his throat.

With a growl of anger reminiscent of the very creatures he had spent the better part of his adult life combating, in one form or another, Giles ignored the screaming pain as his broken ribs grated against each other and, grasping the vampire firmly around the head, twisted his upper body sharply with the last of his remaining strength. A slow sadistic smile slid across his face at the loud, welcomed crunch of bones, and he dropped the vampire to the ground, its head twisted at a nauseating angle. He knelt and delivered a quick blow to the vampire’s chest, the wooden stake driving home to end the creature’s suffering in a swirl of dust. With a ragged sigh, he brushed himself off and climbed carefully to his feet. He still had one more vampire to deal with this night.

Pocketing the stake wearily, Giles turned to leave the park, only to come face to face with a pair of cold brown eyes, dancing with a uniquely cruel mirth.

“Well, well. Rupert. Fancy meeting you here.”

Giles felt his blood run cold just as his world went black.

*****

Cool fingers traced slowly up his back, and small involuntary shudders jolted through him, despite his determination to deny his captor the satisfaction of a response. He swallowed hard, his tormented muscles spasming, and bit back the pained cry as the damp cane landed stingingly across the recently caressed skin. His head was jerked backwards suddenly as fingers tangled cruelly in his hair, brown eyes burning with intensity bored into his soul before surprisingly gentle lips brushed against his forehead.

“Now, tell me you are pleased to see me, Rupert.”

“Go to hell,” he ground out, his eyes drifting closed in self-rebuke. Just ignore the bastard, he admonished himself; whatever you do, don’t react.

“Oh, I imagine that is a given, don’t you?” Laughter echoed around the room, ringing loud in Giles’ ears after the deathly silence. “But then, I expected no less. Don’t tell me you think any other fate awaits you; or did you think your little stint as a Council do-gooder would absolve you of all your previous sins?”

*****

His mind raced, they could do this, he knew they could. Once they succeeded there was no limit to the power they would have at their disposal. Then they would show them. Show them all. His father, with his holier-than-thou, sanctimonious bullshit about family traditions and expectations… well he could take his bloody expectations and stick them where, contrary to Sir Humphrey Giles III’s belief, the sun in actual fact did not shine.

Then there was that stupid git who had dared to say that while he had the ability and the intelligence to excel in any field he lacked both the strength of character and moral fortitude that Oxford expected of its students. Not that he gave a flying fuck about Oxford… what he DID care about was the fact that the worthless git had had the bleedin’ cheek to throw him out. A smile tugged at the corners of Ripper’s mouth, hard and cruel like the steely fire burning in his eyes, they would pay, he would see to it that they would all pay, and not just for him. His hand ran lightly over soft, smooth skin; his lover so peaceful and relaxed in sleep—no evidence of the harshly led life that often haunted the deep chocolate eyes or warped such soft, warm lips into a cold, bitter mockery of a smile. They especially would pay, all those who had used and hurt, who had degraded and defiled, whose cruel words had wounded deeper than any knife was ever capable.

They had been together for little more than six months, but it seemed they had known each other forever. No one else could look so unerringly into his soul, no one else had ever held him so entranced. He’d had more than his share of lovers, most were nameless and easily forgotten, faces blurring one into another as he moved on, without so much as a backward glance, to the next. And while he certainly hadn’t been monogamous in the last six months there was only one person he fell asleep with, only one he shared his deepest dreams and greatest fears with, only one he had ever let into his heart and only one whose fear and pain mattered more to him than his own.

Payback was a bitch. And this time it would be one HELL of a bitch! He chuckled quietly to himself for a moment.

They were so close, just a few more weeks and everything would be prepared. Once Eyghon was summoned they would be more powerful than they’d ever imagined. He itched to perform the ceremony, the wait was driving him up the wall and so many times over the last week he had been tempted to begin, only to be forced to remind himself that their chances of success were far greater if they waited—once all the planets were properly aligned there would be no stopping them. In the meantime, his mind raced, sleep eluded him, thoughts spun in endless circles through his head. His adrenalin level was topping the bloody scales and the need to lay low and not draw any attention to themselves meant he couldn’t even find release in a spot of mindless violence or reckless vandalism. A quiet sigh from the sleeping form drew him from his reverie and reminded him where he could find release.

The tired springs creaked in protest as he shifted position, sliding down from where he was propped up against the pillows to lay snuggled close against the warm curve of back. The smile that shaped his lips this time held no hint of cruelty or mockery, the gentle warmth of it transforming his face. He snaked one arm around his lover’s waist, running his fingers tenderly up one slender arm, linking their fingers as his lips worked teasingly along the length of a finely sculpted collarbone.

*****

Giles’ hair hung limp and wet across his face; his back stung from numerous cuts and welts, his muscles aching from continued strain and uncontrollable shivering. The broken ribs throbbed, his every movement causing them to grind mercilessly. He had been hosed several times, the cold water hitting him in harsh stinging jets like thousands of needles piercing his skin. The thin flexible cane, expertly applied, had left stinging trails across his body. He was tired, sore, and heartsick. Memories lashed at him even more harshly and unforgivingly than the bitter, cruel treatment of his captor.

Looking into the cold, angry eyes of the man before him, Giles found himself mourning the loss of the eager youth he had known so long ago. “Ethan…”

“No! Don’t ‘Ethan’ me. You did this, you pillock. You. You don’t get to judge me. You left.”

“I’m sorry.” Giles’ quiet supplication echoed with years of deep regret.

Ethan spun furiously, whipping the cane around and striking hard across Giles’ cheek; blood welled, and then ran in slow trickles down his face.

“You’re sorry?. Well, that’s big of you. So tell me, Ripper, do you think that covers it? You say you’re sorry and I just forget? Forget that you walked out? Left me… left everything! For what? A bloody tweed coat and Daddy’s approval? Everything that we… that you stood against…”

“We killed someone! Don’t you see, I couldn’t… I had to leave.” Giles was weary, not merely from the hours of torture and abuse, but from the weight of too many years of pain and guilt that despite his every effort he had been unable to exorcise.