Feast or Famine? Ch. 07

When he did, he realized that Stephanos and Marianna had moved to his side. Surging up in powerful elegance, he caught Stephanos in a bear hug of great magnitude. The two friends wept together at their mutual loss. Sharing their grief as they had everything else in times before. They held each other for minutes on end, their mates standing by their sides as well ready to offer their own comfort when it was called for. Finally, they broke apart to sit down together and continue their grieving. All was silent and still except for the labored breathing of the two vampires, loving friends, bitter enemies, and now in joined bereavement, linked once more.

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Instinctively knowing that the four needed time alone together, the others shuffled out of the dining room. Irina and Aleksandr to the kitchen. The soup still had to be attended to. It had been left to warm on the huge cast iron stove for ready serving. Irina added a pinch of salt and pepper to the brew, tasting it for final approval. Aleksandr swept the floor to assist his Irina. His love for her and their daughter lighting up his eyes as he watched his beloved season her soup. He thought what a fortunate man he was indeed as his gaze dropped to her rounded bottom. She still caused stirrings of lust and desire after all these years. He started to hum softly as his thoughts turned to later that night after they retired.

Pyotr and Kolya to the barns. Once they were out of the shivering winds, they embraced in the dark shadows of the barn, a lantern causing flickers of weak light to capture their silhouettes as they swayed together. Their duet played out in front of the sleeping creatures inhabiting the barn. Gentle touches became more impassioned as the time went by. Soft kisses became more ardent, hands traveled freely over each other, moving clothing aside. Love noises trapped in the backs of their throats and were captured in their mouths.

This was how Ivan found them, fumbling with their clothing. He silently sneered at the embracing couple as he crept closer. Closer. Closer still. Zoya and Kirill had been curled around each other for warmth after the day's events, the horses quietly snuffling feed from nearby buckets of oats. They immediately leapt to their feet, their hackles raised, teeth bared. But it proved to be too late. Ivan smashed a heavy club over Pyotr's head, before Kolya could react. He fell to the ground unconscious with blood covering the back of his head, a large depression in evidence. Kolya roared in rage and grief at his lover's crumpled body and launched himself at Ivan, Zoya and Kirill at his heels.

Ivan slashed at them with his club, doing his best to hold them at bay, but they advanced on him from all sides. When one or the other was struck with a glancing blow from the wildly swinging Ivan, the other two continued their trek forward. Inch by inch, Ivan was losing ground. Finally backing out of the barn entirely. And still they advanced. It was hard to determine who was more lathered, Kolya or the wolfhounds. Spittle covered each of their lower jaws, murderous intent in their eyes. And as Ivan couldn't watch where he was going, he took slow, measured steps in retreat. His breathing ragged from his exertions, his eyes wide and unfocused, blindly striking out now as the reality of his situation set upon him.

Stumbling over a small outcropping of rocks, he fell onto his back, his cudgel just out of reach of the grasp of his fingers. They were on him like a ravening pack in seconds. The hounds tearing at his exposed body, Kolya pummeling his face and chest with hardened fists. Ivan was overpowered and he knew it. Showing one final surge of strength, he broke free of their hold on him and started gamboling away, limping heavily. He'd lost his sense of direction however and ran straight for the cliffs. Shrieking in dismay when he stepped off, his body plummeted to the treacherous rocks below. The ululating cry crescendoed with the backdrop of the angry sea. With caution, Kolya and the dogs made their way to the edge. And were satisfied that Ivan was no more. His neck at an odd angle to the rest of his body, they watched in vindication as the roiling sea claimed his body for its own.

Dashing back to the barn, Kolya heaved himself next to Pyotr's still body, and frantically used gentle fingers to probe the wound as he listened to his chest. Warm stickiness copiously met his fingers and the gash was deep, penetrating to the bone from the feel of it. Desperately he watched the concavity of Pyotr's chest barely rustle his peasant top. Hearing a slight raspy breath, he picked up his love and raced for the mansion. Zoya and Kirill bounding at the backs of his feet, their muzzles still coated with bits of Ivan.

He knew that the vampires would be able to help Pyotr. They had to! He had seen times that Stephanos had caused healing in ailing beings and he had seen some who had been too far gone to save. He couldn't bear it if Pyotr was lost to him. Kolya now realized the depths of his feelings. He just hoped it wasn't too late. He couldn't live with himself if Pyotr died, because if he did, then he, Kolya would die as well. He must live!

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