ext_20269: (character - Ruth Riley)
ext_20269 ([identity profile] annwfyn.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] writing_shadows2010-08-29 01:14 am

Blood and vengeance

"You've got my brother. You've got Corben."

Ruth's teeth are chattering and dear God she feels sick. It's like she's hot and cold all at once, like all her worst nightmares are coming true all at once and the only thing that could make this worse is to see Ed in a uniform.

"Yeah..."

Ed's voice is slow and measured and fuck she should recognise that tone of voice.

"You've got to give him back. He needs to be returned to Father Gabriel. Please, Ed. Please..."

And she is never like this with anyone except Ed. She wouldn't plead, wouldn't cry, wouldn't still hope that in some kind of amazing and magical way, Ed could make it better. She wouldn't trust anyone else, with this stupid doglike devotion which won't go away. Will never go away.

"Well, I don't really see how he's coming back. Seeing as how I put my shovel through his neck,"

Oh God.

There's a ghoul backing away from her now, and God she is half giddy now, with a rush of adrenaline that she hasn't felt in years. Her brother is dead and who the fuck once told her that it didn't do, to love a goyim? You couldn't trust them. In the end, when it all comes down to it, they will always cut you. The boys in Berlin who she went to school with, put on grey uniforms.

"You murdered my brother,"

"He took slaves..."

"They drank his blood of their own free will..."

"They were addicts. He kept offering them his blood. They couldn't say 'no'"

All the prayers, all the purging, every last attempt to be something better than the monster inside are burning away now. She is aflame with rage now. This is Ed saying that. And what's worse is that even now, even whilst she hates him, she can remember how he felt when she last saw him. She can remember how safe she felt, when he put his arms around her, she can remember that wash of desire, how fucking badly she wanted his blood in her again.

"Oh?" she snaps, and maybe Ed remembers the fierce little girl he met in Berlin in 1919 and maybe he doesn't, but there's a terrible bleak fire inside her right now. "And you've never done that? Never offered your blood to anyone?"

"Fuck you," he snarls.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Ed."

"Well, he shouldn't have fucking well done that,"

And they are screaming at each other now, voices tearing down the phone and a slow and horrible realisation is coming down on Ruthie. This is real. This isn't a nightmare. Corben - witty, pretty, clever Corben - is dead. The one member of les 'ti Bon Anges who had really felt like her brother, like her friend, is dead, and the only man who she still really remembers loving is responsible.

Her family are going to go to war and there is no good way out of this.

"My blood is on your hands," she tells Ed, as she hangs up the phone.

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