Chapter Text
People might have wondered why Derek Hale —werewolf Alpha and notorious vampire hunter from a long line of vampire hunters— was entering Bloodmoon just shy of midnight, especially if they knew it was a lair teeming with some of the deadliest, most bloodthirsty vampires this side of the Atlantic, but Derek was nothing if not a man of his word and he would repay his debt even if it was the last thing he did.
He walked directly to the door, fists clenched, claws digging painfully into his skin, and stopped in front of the bouncers guarding the entrance.
“No dogs allowed here, Fido,” said the tallest of the two.
Derek felt his muscles tense up, adrenaline coursing through his veins, ready for a fight. Still, he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the stupid, unsuspecting humans lining up to enter the club. “Are you going to explain to your master why the head of the Hale clan didn’t show up or do you like your head attached to your body?”
The guard’s eyes widened. Derek was sure that he saw the man swallow before giving a curt nod and letting him through. Fucking blood junkie.
The smell of dozens of bodies sweating, alcohol and weed hit his nose at the same time that the bass dropped in the song playing in the background. Neon lights signaled the way to the private lounge underground and Derek made his way through the crowd avoiding at least two different people who almost spilled their drinks on him.There was a tall man at the back, guarding the velvet ropes that separated the private lounge from the regular crowd. He was speaking to a beautiful redhead woman who looked positively lethal but wasn’t a vampire. Derek should have been able to smell what she was, but it was difficult to figure out what her jasmine perfume meant in the middle of the crowd.
“It means you’re late,” she said.
“What?” How did she—?
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Hale. Stiles said to make you feel welcome, but I don’t like your kind.” Derek stood straight, making himself look taller. He knew it was a weak intimidation technique, but it’d have to do. “So here’s how things are gonna go: you’re gonna go down, smile politely, and do as Stiles says or I will make sure my beautiful girl puts an arrow through your eye.”
“And you are?” he asked, trying to fix his stare on her to avoid turning around. He had the uneasy feeling of being watched.
“The club owner. I would appreciate keeping the upstairs clientele unaware of the private lounge activities, but most importantly, I’d love to end the night without having to call the cleanup crew.”
Derek huffed, knowing it was entirely possible the cleanup crew was already working if the erratic heartbeat he heard from the bouncer was any indication. Vampires were always thirsty, and even if they weren’t, they were used to bleeding people out for less than that.
He went in.
The moment he crossed the curtains, the atmosphere changed completely. It was darker, only a strip of red neon lights lined the coving where the wall met the ceiling. Every step down the stairs felt like walking deeper into a bear cave. His heart was hammering against his chest, a reminder that he was probably the only thing alive past those velvet ropes. Slowly, the murmur of people down there grew stronger, voices overlapping with the music: upstairs a techno rave roared alive, while down here the darker notes of some 80’s industrial band sang that a timepiece never changes this. Derek rolled his eyes. He’d heard through the grapevine that Stilinski was obsessed with 80’s music and 80’s movies and who knew what else. He thought it was funny that someone who’d been alive so long would choose the 80’s to fixate on.
When his scuffed boots hit the final step, the murmur underground went silent. All he could hear was the music and some muffled heartbeats that belonged to the feeders. Derek swallowed his disgust. Everyone stopped what they were doing, some of them eerily mid-action, frozen in time in more ways than one.
He walked among the fifty or so vamps, trying to focus on his breathing to stop himself from changing. The crowd parted to let him through, eyeing him as if he was a rare, juicy steak —or a walking blood bag, if you were one of them— and as such, Derek saw Stilinski before the vampire saw him.
Surely, Stilinski must have sensed Derek by now. Smelled him. Been warned of him. Anything. Someone didn’t become vampire royalty without acquiring enemies, but Stilinski was in his turf and everyone here would go out of their way to protect him. They wouldn’t let him with his back to the enemy —because Derek was the enemy— for any reason, yet there he was straddling a man’s lap, teeth sunk in his neck, a wet moan on his lips.
If someone asked him an hour ago what he thought of Stilinski, he would’ve said he was an annoying piece of shit who happened to be in the right place at the right time when Derek had been about to die. Sure, he was handsome but weren’t all vampires? It was part of their thing: looking attractive to their victims to lure them in to suck their blood until they got bored and tossed them away. If you were lucky, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, a feeding gone wrong —or right— and you’d meet your creator. If you weren’t so lucky, they’d drain you just enough so that you became addicted to it, the rush of endorphins the bite brought, and came back begging to be drained more and more until there was nothing left of you.
Now, though, seeing Stilinski on that man’s lap, drinking his blood in a grotesque show of lust that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, Derek briefly wondered if it would be so terrible, to be torn apart by that pretty mouth, sharp fangs burrowing into his skin taking away all his sorrows in a wave of pleasure. The man, whose head lolled to the side, eyes rolled back and drawn-out moan made him look obscene, seemed to think Stilinski’s mouth was worth the withdrawals. Or death. Whichever he found worse.
Derek cleared his throat, but Stilinski didn’t turn, just kept sucking thoroughly at the guy’s neck, unbothered by Derek’s impatience. He guessed Stilinski had the upper hand here after all, but it irritated him nonetheless.
When he finally stopped, the man whose lap he was sitting on slouched, his heartbeat was lost in the bassline —if it was even there. Stilinski threw his head back, exposing his long pale neck in a lewd show of dramatics. He stood up, turning around to face Derek, stretching a hand to the side until someone passed him a cloth. Instead of cleaning the trickle of blood that ran down his chin, he wiped his hands quickly and tossed the cloth in the direction of the crumpled man behind him.
“Now, now, aren’t I lucky to feast my eyes on you, Hale?” asked Stilinski, smirking.
Suddenly, Derek wished he could readjust his pants, he wished he hadn’t worn tight jeans, he wished he had the willpower to fight back the night that Stilinski decided to call in his favor. Instead, all he could do was stare at his pale complexion under the faint glowing lights down in the private lounge. People were staring —he could feel it— and whispering about him while feeders walked around the room wearing little by way of clothes —he could hear their erratic heartbeats behind him, announcing their presence.
“Come on, Stilinski. Where are we going?” he asked.
“You know, my friends call me Stiles,” the guy said, a smile on his face. Derek was stronger than this, he knew it.
“We’re not friends.”
“Aw, are you still upset that I put down your uncle when he was trying to maim you?” Distractedly, he wiped his chin with a finger, licking it clean of blood a moment later.
“I killed him,” he defended.
“After I tore out half of his throat. You wanted revenge for what he did to your darling Laura, I get it. And you got it: not only you killed the man, you became an Alpha for it. You should be extremely grateful I like you, Hale.”
“Keep my sister’s name out of your mouth,” he growled, clenching his fists.
“Now, why would I do that, Derek?” He hated how his name sounded on Stilinski’s mouth, his jeans were too tight for the velvet touch of his voice. “I’ve had excellent diplomatic relations with generations of Hales and your sister was not an exception. I think that what happened to her was… uncivilized. Such is the nature of family disputes sometimes.”
When Derek thought of her sister’s death uncivilized was not one of the words that popped into his mind. If there weren’t enough vampires to drain a whole town behind his back, maybe Derek would find delight in telling Stilinski exactly what he thought of his stuck up attitude.
“What did you want?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Not here, Derek. We don’t discuss business where we feed,” Stilinski said, a smile playing on his lips. “Why don’t you join me for a drink?”
Derek’s stomach tightened in anticipation, knowing he was looking for a fight with his next words. “I’m leaving.”
He turned around, but the redhead woman from earlier was standing behind him, a brunette, whose curls reached just above her shoulders, was with her holding a small crossbow in one hand inspecting the bolt nonchalantly.
“You will do no such thing,” said Stilinski to his back.
“Didn’t I warn you, Hale?”
Derek’s claws involuntarily came out, his fangs lengthened and thickened, his jaw tensed as he got ready for a fight. If this was the end, he would go down fighting.
“Stiles, are you sure you want to take this cur with you?” the redhead said.
“Come on, Lydia. There’s no need to be rude. He’s not his uncle.” Stilinski said, as if that was enough of an explanation, but all it did was give Derek more questions. “Now, Derek, will you calm down and come with me?”
“I’m not staying here to be insulted.” Derek was proud of himself for sounding like he actually meant it. Especially when the part that wanted to run away was easily overshadowed by the part that wanted to stay. He had to remind himself he wasn’t actually attracted to the blood-sucker, he thought Stilinski was attractive because everyone with two eyes would think that. It was a vampire thing.
“No, you’re staying here because you owe me and you’re going to repay that debt.” Stilinski put a hand on his shoulder and a low, guttural growl formed in Derek’s throat. “I told you once, Derek, you don’t have to worry about your neck while you’re here. Everyone knows that if they touch you, I’ll have their heads before they can say sunrise.”
Derek shook Stilinski’s hand off his shoulder, turning around to face him. After a moment of holding his gaze, he said: “lead the way.”
Stilinski smiled.
He stepped from the platform where his throne was, leaving the man’s body behind and walking to a black door by the side. Derek briefly glanced at the redhead —Lydia, if he remembered correctly— and the girl he assumed was her girlfriend and saw them wearing similar, amused grins, then he followed Stilinski through a series of hallways until they crossed a set of black doors that led to a big room with a freshly made king sized bed in the middle. Derek stopped by the threshold, his heart beating faster in his chest.
“Relax, Derek,” said the vampire, probably aware that it was impossible to relax on command. “Your virtue is safe here. This is just the only soundproofed room apart from Lydia’s office upstairs, but she hates keeping blood anywhere near the human clientele.”
That’s when Derek noticed the small fridge next to the bed, as Stilinski leaned down to get himself a chilled glass, he got a sneak peak at the contents inside: vodka and a couple of bottles that appeared to be blood. He swallowed, averting his eyes from Stilinski, then inconspicuously rearranged his jeans. Derek needed to get a hold of himself ASAP. He closed the door behind him, still wary of being alone with the vamp, but knowing that if he wanted this to be over quickly, he needed to actually deal with it.
“You know”—Stilinski continued as he poured himself a glass of vodka, his eyes never leaving his drink—“I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
“What do you want from me?”
He turned to face Derek, his face serious. “I told you, Derek. You’re going to keep me safe.”
“What? You want me to be a bouncer here? Don’t you have enough of them?”
“Ha! As if I’d let that pretty face waste away in the elements. Not a chance.” He swirled the contents in the glass before taking a sip with his eyes closed, savoring the alcohol. “You are going to be my bodyguard during a little trip.”
Derek stood straight, his body taut as a wire. “I’m not leaving my pack.”
“It’s only temporary. Nothing to worry about.”
“Still, I’m not leaving them.”
“You have no choice. Lydia will be handling my immortal affairs here during my absence and she will work with your younger sister to keep the territory safe.”
“What are you talking about?” It sure sounded to Derek like everything was arranged already.
“You have until 4 to pack your things and make sure Cora is up to date and ready to step in as the stand-in alpha while we’re gone.” Stiles continued, as if Derek hadn't interrupted. “We should be in Aurora by tomorrow night. No one should find us there for a couple of months at least.”
That made Derek pause, putting a hand up the air as if to stop the words flowing from Stiles’ tempting lips. “Aurora? A couple of months? What the hell are you on about?”
“Try to keep up, Derek. Clearly, we’re going on a trip up North.”
Derek stood his ground. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
Stilinski, for his part, sighed dramatically, then knocked back the rest of his drink, tossing the glass on the bed. “All you need to know is I gotta be out of here before sunrise or someone will have my fucking head. I like my head attached to my body, thank you very much.”
“‘Someone?’ Another vampire? Human hunters? I can’t do shit for you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“Who cares?” said Stilinski. “The result is the same. You’re driving us up into the Oregon wilderness.”
Reluctantly, Derek said, “at least tell me if it’ll be just you or if the brides of Dracula are coming along.”
Stilinski frowned. “The brides—? Ha. Funny. Lydia will not like that nickname, so never say it in front of her.”
Derek waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, Derek prompted, “well?”
“No, Derek. They’re not coming. It’ll be just you and me against the world until I’m safe again.”
“And when will that be?” Derek insisted.
With a sigh, Stilinski dropped on the bed, his shirt exposing his throat in a lewd manner. At least, it felt lewd and provocative to Derek.
“I don’t know, Derek. All I know is someone who hates my guts found out where I am and they’re on their way to finish what they should’ve done a few centuries ago.” Stilinski said, his gaze looking for Derek. “I saved your life, Derek Hale. Now it’s time you do the same for me.”
Derek’s mind was reeling, but he wouldn’t show weakness in front of Stilinski. Least of all if the vampire was about to be his only company for who knows how long. Whoever this person was, Derek hoped this Lydia woman dealt with them soon so Derek could come home and forget all about it.
“At 4, you said?” confirmed Derek.
Stilinski smiled, his fangs peeking out. “Glad to know we’re finally on the same page.”