FicWad

For the last few days, Pete was more miserable than he had ever been in his entire life. He was even more annoyed to realize that Patrick's eyes were on him at all times. It was just like it had been when Lilith left, but now Patrick's head was buried in books and he was always busy scribbling in his journal. Well, that was the least of Pete's problems.

Every night the Hunt for vampires took a new twist; he wanted to wipe them off the face of the Earth in the most painful way possible. It was beautiful in a savage way to see Pete in action--he looked like a talented dancer among a group of clumsy amateurs. Those once callused and scarred hands now knew exactly what to do to bring a vampire to its knees.

Besides that, Pete never gave into the temptation of feeding. He now loved to make his blood shakes. In the beginning, Patrick mistakenly thought that Pete's taste for blood grew to something of a five year-old's taste for a lollipop, but the look on Pete's face said it all. Pete took pleasure in the searing pain that came with drinking all the garlic, and the Priest's new addition--holy water.

One night, Pete again watched from the shadows, daring a Warrior to attack Andy and his girlfriend.

"This is stupid, Andy could get hurt," Joe muttered.

"He'll be fine. I won't let them take another one."

The awkward silence was only broken by Patrick's voice. "Do you guys think it's weird that we're watching Andy make out with one of our friends? This is like a bad porno or something."

Pete rolled his eyes and looked off the hill into the city lights below.

"Oh, shit, let's go!"

Joe got there first, blasting one of the vampires with a net. As he clumsily reloaded, Pete flew over the car and tackled the platinum blonde baring her pearly whites at Andy and his girl. With untold rage he staked her.

"You call yourselves hunters?!" Pete snapped at them all, despite the fact that the girl was crying.

"Next time you be the bait!" Andy shouted back.

Before Patrick could stop him, Pete took a flying leap off the hill.

The odd thing was that Pete never thought he'd make it, nor did he care. Predictably, he landed smoothly on the cement sidewalk and continued walking. It was such exhilaration, flying through the night, not knowing what would happen next.

He shrugged off the hood of his black hoodie and picked up the pace. Patrick probably already got over his shock and now had the car tearing around the turns of the hill. Pete didn't want Patrick to know where he went at night, even though he was pretty sure Patrick knew anyway.

Pete rounded the corner of the street, looking both ways before walking on. The teal-colored car caught his eye. So she was already home. Good.

He carefully climbed the fire escape attached to the building next to the apartment building. As he hid in the shadows, he swept his eyes over to her window. There was no light on.

"What the hell?"
If there was anything he knew about Gwen, it was that she hated the dark so much that something, anything was on until the wee hours of the night.

He jumped from the fire escape and rushed toward the hideout.

Could she be stupid enough to go there? Or maybe she got attacked? What possibly could have gone wrong now?

Pete pulled the door open quickly to see the guys crowded around Patrick's lab table.

"Where the hell have you been?" Patrick asked angrily.

Pete ignored him. "Is she here?" he asked breathlessly.

"Is who here?"

"You know we should probably be worried about--"

"Gwen! Is she here?"

"--the envelope."

"I don't care about some stupid envelope!" Pete shouted.

"I think it might interest you," Patrick said dryly.
He held up a cream-colored envelope with the name "Peter" written in calligraphy across the front. Pete snatched it out of his hand and tore it open:

Dear Peter,
It's been a while since our last chat, how disappointing. However, I think you can fix that, as you will be interested in seeing me soon. I have something that belongs to you. Now onto more important matters: I expect you to find me tomorrow night if you ever wish to see your prized possession again. Do dress properly.
With All the Best,
William Beckett
P.S. She's perfect.

"No fucking way!"

"What? What happened?" Andy asked.

"Beckett has her. He's got Gwen! I'll tear him apart!"
Pete growled and headed for the door.

"Unless you want to be a pile of dust, I suggest you turn around and stay," Joe said.

"I don't care what time it is! He has Gwen!"

"What good will you be to her dead?" Patrick called out.

He stopped short of the door.

"Fine. I'll wait. But you'd better get Dirty to check up on the covens, train, and make some better guns, Patrick."

Pete kicked his coffin open and climbed in. Joe closed it tightly.

"This time I’ll make it count,” he growled to the darkness.