DISCLAIMER: Blade: The Series and its characters are the property of Spike TV, New Line Cinema and Marvel Comics . No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Humpty Dumpty
By trancer
Chase growled with the last ounce of strength she couldn't afford to expend. The focus of her anger pointed at the woman standing by her bedside. It was a joke of a mattress, with tired springs that still managed to dig uncomfortably into her bare back. But it was a safe house. And the headboard was strong, made of steel and as unyielding as the restraints holding Chase to the bed.
Blade had done a number on her. She could feel the bullets still rattling around her insides. The sting from where his blade had sliced open her flesh. Had Krista not intervened when she did (Chase refused to call it a rescue), she most certainly would be a pile of ash blowing in the wind.
But, Krista had saved her. And Chase hated her for it. She'd be damned if she'd show gratitude. Or weakness.
She hissed again as Krista sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling at her restraints.
"Don't touch me," the growl rumbling up from her throat ended abruptly with a chest rattling cough and the taste of blood on her tongue. A bullet had pierced her lung. Chase loved the taste of blood except when it came to her own. The nausea washed over her like a tide as her head began to spin.
"God," Krista rolled her eyes. "Would you just shut up and quit bitching."
"Which is it? Shut up or quit bitching?"
"Both," Krista pursed her lips. "I'll gag you if I have to."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chase responded with an upturn of an eyebrow. "I bet your simple little mind is getting a kick out of this."
"Contrary to popular belief," Krista took the moment to wipe the blood from Chase's mouth. "I don't enjoy seeing you in pain."
"Then that just makes you weak."
"Okay then, I'm weak. Now," she held a pair of forceps, "This is probably going to hurt."
"Wait. Untie me first."
"Chase.."
"No, I.." the words trailed. As Chase was left with a disturbing thought. It wasn't the pain, Chase could handle pain. It was the idea of being restrained while in pain. And the idea of explaining to Krista, Krista, the images that such a state brought forth - of Frederick and his punishments, the humiliations, her helplessness.
"Okay," Krista sighed. Chase felt the seeds of shame coloring her cheeks from the look of sympathy she caught in the brunette's eyes. "I'll untie you."
Chase exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her head collapsing onto the pillow in relief as Krista unbound her.
"But I'm warning you," Krista held up the forceps once more. "If you bite me, I swear I will knock you the fuck out. Understood?"
Chase nodded weakly, eyes glued to the ceiling. "Just.. Get this over with."
She grit her teeth as Krista dug out the first bullet, the one lodged near her shoulder blade. By the fifth bullet, Chase was screaming. There was no point in denying the pain. By the twelfth bullet, the tears flowed freely accompanied with chest wracking sobs.
"Okay Chase," Krista leaned close to her, her hand on Chase's cheek, thumb brushing away the tears. "I'm done."
"Thank God. I think you can forget any thoughts of a medical career. You're dreadful."
If Krista got the joke, she didn't show it. Continued looking down at Chase with the same concern in her eyes.
"You're.." the word almost escaped Krista's lips - weak. "You need to feed. To quicken your healing."
"I don't think they have room service here."
Krista held up her arm, rolling her sleeve back and exposing her forearm. She pulled a scalpel from the tray, cutting a deep line across her skin.
"Why are you doing this?"
"It's like you said Chase," Krista answered, pressing her open wound to Chase's lips. "I'm weak."
It only took a few moments, the scent of someone else's blood to bring forth Chase's thirst. She sank her teeth into Krista's arm. As strange as it seemed, bullet wounds were the easiest to recover from. Already Chase could feel her strength returning with each swallow. Feral emotions flooded her senses - the pain, the hunger. The arousal. The very act of feeding plugged into something primal within her. Even with her body riddled with holes, she could feel it throbbing achingly between her legs.
"Chase.."
She ignored the concerned tone in Krista's voice.
"Chase!"
Krista jerked her arm away. Chase hissed angrily. Her mouth opened, fangs bared, her head jerking forward hungrily towards Krista's bleeding arm like a hungry dog after a bone. Immediately, Krista backhanded her across the face. It wasn't hard but enough to snap Chase back to her senses. She stilled her motions realizing she wasn't strong enough for a fight. Instead, Chase relaxed backwards onto the mattress. Closed her eyes dreamily as she wiped the blood dribbling from her lips with a finger and licking them clean.
"I'll give you this, Krista Starr, you may be a screw-up and completely undeserving of Marcus' affections but you are incredibly," she smacked her lips loudly, "delicious."
When Krista didn't respond as she normally did when Chase threw one of her barbs, Chase opened her eyes. Opened her eyes to see a very angry, a very aroused Krista hovering over her.
Krista crawled onto the bed, straddling Chase's hips as she leaned down low, nose grazing across the closing wounds and inhaling deeply. The low chuffing sounds of heat and hunger emitted from her throat. She'd fed too much. Just as the very act of feeding strengthened and aroused Chase, the draining of her blood brought forth the hunger in Krista.
"Krista," she warned low and throaty, knowing if Krista had succumbed to the thirst, this just might be Chase's last day on earth.
"Shhh," Krista purred softly almost predatorily. "You have other wounds that need tending," she ran her tongue over a knife wound. "And cleaning."
Chase shivered at the sensation of Krista's tongue, the bite of pain and the silky sensation of pleasure. She couldn't have fought her off if she tried, and with Krista's tongue trailing lower circling a bullet wound just over Chase's left breast, at the moment, she didn't want to.
It was a balancing act that could go horribly, horribly wrong. But Krista had a sense of control Chase had never seen in other newborns. The ability to go to the razor's edge and still pull herself back before getting cut.
Without her full strength, it meant she'd have to trust Krista. Again. A thought which triggered her, always bubbling beneath the surface, feelings of hatred, and the desire always running parallel with them.
"Krista," Chase lifted her head enough to see brown locks disappearing between her thighs. "I don't think I'm wounded there."
Krista lifted her head up, eyes smoky and sensual. "How will I know if I don't check?"
How indeed? Not that Chase had time to answer because Krista had already dipped her head back down. Chase's answer drowned out by the low growl purring from her throat. Hands balling the sheets between her fists. Hips thrusting undulating in tandem with the tongue that so lovingly tended her wounds thrust deeply inside her. The pain and all thoughts of it replaced with sheer pleasure.
Chase cried out as she came. Her last thoughts were of listing the ways Krista would pay for making Chase trust her. Killing her with kindness perhaps but, ultimately, she'd still kill her.
The End