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Joe stirred slowly. Every muscle ached, but nothing felt quite as bad as the searing pain emanating from his neck. Raising his hands, he didn’t know whether to reach for his neck first or to comfort the violent pounding in his head. The shock of being bitten by Pete followed by being thrown so viciously across the room had rendered him briefly unconscious. Mentally checking his limbs, groaning at the effort of every movement, Joe finally pushed himself upright, flopping back against the wall, his breathing heavy and fast. How he was still alive, he didn’t know. It was bizarre. Bitten by Pete; he never thought that terrible day would ever come but even more than that, that he would succumb so easily. It wasn’t just the bite, or even the shock. Somehow Pete had subdued him physically just by sheer will alone. Had Beckett done the same when he attacked Pete two years earlier? He understood now how a trained hunter could be overcome so easily. He had doubted Pete when he had heard of the lack of a struggle and had mistrusted him on his return. How wrong he had been! But now, he was definitely not to be trusted; he had bitten him, tasted his blood. Joe frowned. And yet he was still alive… somehow. Why go to all that effort just to knock him out? It seemed highly implausible. Looking around the office, Joe’s bleary eyes fell on the prone form of Patrick, lying perfectly still with a stake jammed into his chest.

“Patrick!” Joe cried in alarm.

He had almost convinced himself again that Pete could be trusted, that he was working from an unknown plan, one that with luck would lead to the downfall of Beckett and his new Coven. But no… Pete had killed Patrick. It was unthinkable, it was unimaginable. Crawling across the floor as fast as his aching limbs would allow, Joe frowned deeply and unhappily at the pale form lying next to him. Pulling the stake from his friend’s chest, Joe stared hard, his brow creased in confusion. In his hand lay half a stake; the top half to be precise. So much of the point was removed that there was barely enough to hold. Pushing Patrick’s shirt to one side, Joe saw one of the stake proof vests that Patrick had originally designed for Pete covering his heart, protecting him from the potentially lethal blow.

“Patrick?” Joe asked, his voice rising so he almost shouted the name. “Patrick!”
“Yeah,” Patrick gasped in pain and discomfort. “It was never going to kill me, but, man did it hurt!” he explained.
“You… You’re okay? You’re alive?” Joe stammered as Patrick pushed himself into a sitting position, the occasional grimace gracing his lips. “But how?”
“It’s just a trick,” Patrick began to explain.
“Well, this wasn’t!” Joe shouted back, displaying the bite marks on his neck. “Neither is the blinding headache I’ve got from being slammed into the wall! Pete tried to kill me!”
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “He didn’t.”
“I didn’t do this to myself!” Joe protested. “I’m just lucky he missed my jugular!”

Patrick chuckled at the comment, earning a furious glance from Joe.

“I don’t see what’s funny!” Joe snapped.
“Trust me, Joe, Pete didn’t miss, he knows exactly where your jugular is.”
Joe frowned, his expression swiftly turning uncertain. “I’m not sure that makes me feel any better. But… But, I’m glad you’re okay. Pete… Does he know?”
“Of course he knows,” Patrick laughed as he leaned back against one of the filing cabinets. “He had to know or he’d have used a real stake! It’s the start of our attempt to even the playing field with Beckett. He thinks he’s playing us, well we like to play too.”
“Well, how come I don’t know?” Joe asked indignantly.
“Pete came to me, told me that Gabe Saporta had approached him with some tale about beating his bloodlust by killing me. I have to admit it was quite a convincing tale, but garbage. We decided to use the situation, use it to get to Beckett, but it had to be convincing. He had to stake me and he had to kill you. So, I wore a stake-proof vest and he switched the stakes at the last minute. He had to bite you, Joe,” Patrick looked apologetic. “There was no other way to make it convincing.”
“Well, it convinced me!” Joe sighed. “But, wasn’t there a risk?”
“Of?”
Joe licked his lips, almost ashamed to ask. “That he’d drain me?”
Patrick took a deep breath. “Doesn’t it say a lot that he didn’t?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Joe nodded, sighing in mild shame. “I shouldn’t have doubted him. But it still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me.”
“Saporta would have sensed it straight away. If he’d checked, even the slightest reading of your mind and he’d have known. It had to be that convincing.”
“Do you think it worked?”
“If it hadn’t, you’d have been drained for real and Pete and I would be be very dead.”
“So there was no truth in what Saporta was saying to Pete?”
“Pete is genuinely addicted to human blood and his craving, if not satisfied, will drive him to kill,” Patrick nodded solemnly.
“So, he is turning evil?” Joe asked bleakly.
“No, he just needs human blood,” Patrick corrected.
“You’ve been giving him human blood,” Joe replied, confused and wondering what subtle point he had missed.
Patrick shook his head slowly. “before you worry, I haven’t tried it, but Pete tells me that packet blood is like a photograph of a chocolate cake.”

Joe frowned, now certain he was missing the point.

“It looks right, but it tastes terrible and leaves you very dissatisfied,” Patrick explained to Joe’s amusement.
“Yep,” he smiled. “That’s a Pete-ism.”
“So? What? He needs to eat people?” Joe’s already concerned expression grew ever more tense.
“No,” Patrick replied to his friend’s relief. “I can help him, Joe, I’m sure of it.”
“Well, we better deal with this mess and then you can. But… What about Andy? Is he in on this? Where is he?”

Patrick’s shoulders fell and looking down at his hands, he heaved a sigh.

“No, that’s genuine enough,” he added raising his eyes to meet Joe’s. “We have no idea where he is. Come on, we have to get down to the Mayor’s office. Pete should be there by now. This time we’re taking him down for good.”
“What about Andy?”
“We’ll find him, Joe and… Thanks… for saving my life. It must have been hard for you to kill her.”
“I didn’t,” Joe choked out. “Beckett did and now it’s my turn.”

Patrick offered Joe a faint smile and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. They all had more than enough personal reasons to kill him, but maybe Joe had a little more?

*

For about the three hundredth time Andy pulled fruitlessly on the chains holding him to the floor. He sighed heavily as, once again, they held absolutely firm. He had ideas and some very specific plans, yes, but that was part of the problem - they were too specific. While chained up there was absolutely nothing he could do to change his situation. All he could do was hope that before torturing him to the point he was too weak to try, Brendon would release him from his chains. He had no idea how long he had been there, or even whether it was night or day. He had been in some bad situations before, and quite recently too, and he had survived. He had to keep believing that he would this time too. Giving in was the first stage of giving up; he would not give them that pleasure. If this was the end, he would fight them tooth and nail. They’d know why they were the last hunter group in town and he’d make them suffer at every single opportunity. Better yet, Andy patter his belt, he would overcome Brendon and either escape or kill Beckett. Andy nodded to himself; whatever would actually happen, he would not simply sit back and allow it. He was stronger than that.

*

“William?” Brendon spoke with uncertainty in his tone.
“Yes, Brendon?” Beckett leaned back in the chair stretching his long legs out in front of him. It had been a long but interesting night so far. In his eager anticipation for word from either Andrea or Gabe, Beckett had foregone eating and was now significantly hungry and with it, irritable.
“I was wondering if your… keenness to have Pete turn evil and join our Coven was for the best.”

Beckett’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Brendon. Despite calling Brendon his equal and making him a Coven Master in his own right, he had not quite got out of the habit of treating him like the subordinate he would probably always be in his mind.

“You’re questioning me?” Beckett growled.
“Yes, William,” Brendon struggled to say. “I am a Master now too and I should get a say in what we do.”
“Then have your say,” Beckett replied.

If anyone else had heard the words, it would have sounded perfectly acceptable, but Brendon, after years of dealing with Beckett, had heard the threatening undertone. Brendon nodded, he had been asked to say what he thought, he could hardly be punished for doing just that.

“I just think that the likelihood of Pete turning evil is… well, it’s unlikely to say the least. I know he’s had human blood now, but apart from a desperate craving for it, there’s no reason to believe he’ll turn evil.”
“And what will convince you?”
Brendon shook his head. “When Wentz walks through that door having killed Patrick, maybe, I’ll consider it!”
“Well,” Beckett laughed. “Let’s ask him shall we?”
“What?”

As Brendon asked the question, the door opened and to his astonishment, Pete strode confidently into the room before lowering himself to his knees.

“Master William, Master Brendon,” Pete greeted them respectfully, keeping his eyes lowered.

Behind him, Gabe Saporta entered, dragging Spencer in with him.

“I found this one outside. He’s still too weak to be of any real threat, but I thought maybe you’d want to see him.”
Beckett scowled deeply. “How are you alive? I left you drained and starving!”
Brendon looked at Beckett to see him staring harshly in his direction. “You saw me do it!” he protested. “If I hadn’t drained him I wouldn’t have even been strong enough to stand after what you did to me!”

Beckett looked away, accepting that there must be some other reason.

“How are you alive?” Beckett bellowed only to be again ignored by a very defiant Spencer.
“It was Ryan, Master,” Pete replied. “He gave him his blood. He told me. I found him outside the warehouse watching. Let me have a re-match, this time there’ll be no doubt he’ll be dead!”
“That would hardly be an even match, Peter, he’s quite weak.” Beckett chuckled. “Brendon, do you mind if Spencer eats your prisoner?”
“Yes, I mind!” Brendon protested. “I have a dozen or more plans for torturing Andy.”
“Andy?” Pete cocked his head to one side. “He’s here?” Pete smirked as he turned to face Beckett. “If anyone gets to kill him, it has to be me! I want the set.”
“The set?” Beckett asked, intrigued.
“Patrick, Joe and Andy.”
“You killed Joe? Beckett raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What about Miss Logan?”
“Andrea?” Pete shook his head in disdain. “She got ambitious, then she got careless, then she got dead. Joe, killed her. Worked out pretty well for me, he was too distracted to even notice me until my fangs were in his neck.”
“And Patrick?”
“Apparently Patrick likes his stake well done,” Saporta joined the conversation.
“Excellent,” Beckett grinned. “Now then, to deal you once and for all,” he added glaring at Spencer.
“Wait! You need a coven, give me another chance! Please?”
“Brendon?” Beckett turned to the vampire, noticing the look of bitter resentment on his face.

Grabbing Spencer, Brendon dragged him closer, all the while Spencer struggling in his grip. Without another word, Brendon sank his fangs into Spencer’s neck, chuckling as he tore at his flesh mercilessly. As Spencer weakened, Brendon extended one arm and used his newly learned powers of levitation to raise a heavy mahogany table from the floor and smash it against the wall. Pieces of it fell heaped to the floor, great spiked sections of wood sticking up and out into the room. Brendon laughed as he picked up Spencer bodily and threw him onto one of the spikes. Gurgling as what remained of his blood pooled in his mouth, Spencer slumped lifeless and silent.
“Awesome!” Pete cried turning to look at Brendon. “That was amazing!”

Brendon preened himself, a superior smirk on his face. Pete’s comment apparently impressing him more even than his killing of Patrick. If he wasn’t convinced before, he was now.”
“Peter,” Beckett began. “Now that Brendon is a Master in his own right and I know Master Gabriel has already explained to you, you may be my Second.”
“Master William!” Pete gasped, kneeling once more. “Such an honour!”
“Rise, Peter, I have work for you and Brendon.”
“Of course, Master,” Pete nodded, getting to his feet once more.
“But now, Master Gabriel, your reward,” Beckett smiled graciously.


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A/N – You didn’t really think I’d kill off Patrick did you? ;)
Well, certainly not at that point – I make no promises for the future for him or anyone else!
Have some celebratory cookies! xoxo