“A Vengeful Affair”
One afternoon, I just couldn’t go on until I wrote SOMETHING about him.
“A Vengeful Affair”
Acknowledgements
The character of Methos is the creation and property of Panzer/Davis of Highlander fame. No copyright infringement is intended or implied. Evie and Darren belong to themselves and to Rain (me). This story takes place completely outside Highlander canon and was written purely on an impulse that would not leave me until I wrote SOMETHING that day.
Thank you to all my beta readers: Kim, Mary, Jenny, and my mother as always . . .
The setting is present day, 1990s in Seacouver.
Methos gripped me tighter and pushed me further back into the shadows of the alley. His hand was pressed firmly against my mouth keeping me quiet and making it almost impossible for me to take a breath. Not that I would be able to breathe anyway, frightened as I was. All I could see was the dark walls of the alley beside Methos’ apartment building. All I could smell was the combination of the Dumpster trash and the sweet fresh sweat of Methos himself penetrating through his hastily thrown on gray sweater.
Tears of fear were finally welling up in my eyes, but I no longer felt the urge to scream. Methos could tell, and he took his hand away from my mouth. He turned me around to face him and together we crouched down behind the Dumpster. Hearts racing we stared intently at each other and listened for the fall of footsteps. I knew we wouldn’t hear any. Darren would float soundless, slowly down the alley, turning his head back and forth searching for any sign of me. He would hear our hearts and smell our blood. Our hiding would not work for long.
“Methos!” Darren shouted from not very far away. “Send Evie out! All I want is the girl.”
I was shaking my head no. I closed my eyes and felt Methos wrap his arms around my shoulders. Our foreheads were touching, his hot breath on my face.
Darren shouted again, this time with less authority in his voice, “Evie, darling, come here to me.” His softer tone did nothing to calm me or make me want to go out to him. I would never forget that Darren was a vampyre. He couldn’t change that he had lied to me for over five years, pretending he was human. Pretending he did not kill people and drink their blood every night. But most of all I could never forgive him for the false hope he had given me in trying to conceive a child. Three hundred-year-old vampyres can’t have babies; everyone knows that. I would not go back to Darren, not after these few months, and not ever.
I opened my eyes. Methos was looking at me, drinking me in with large black pupils surrounded by dark hazel irises.
“Let me fight him,” he whispered.
“No. He’s not one of you. You’ll die.”
“He’ll kill us both if I don’t try, Evie.”
The tears in my eyes spilled down my cheeks soundlessly. Methos kissed them away.
“Stay hidden,” he mouthed to me, reaching to unsheathe his long English style sword. “No matter what, I love you.” He kissed my mouth as I heard the blade of his sword hit the alley floor. With the clank we both froze. Now Darren knew exactly where we were and would be upon us in one more instant.
I fought the desire to remain clinging to him as Methos sprung out from behind the shadowy Dumpster calling in his thick British accent, “Alright, Darren, I’m right here!”
“It’s not you I want,” came the reply from behind him. Methos spun around, sword held in front of him in both hands. Darren tiptoed leisurely closer. “You want to fence, do you? Pity, I don’t even own a sword. Clumsy things, really.”
“Then you’ll die tonight,” Methos replied, shifting his weight back and forth between his two legs.
“No, I don’t think so. That honor shall be yours. I’ll rip your neck apart, and then Evie and I will be on our way.”
“Evie doesn’t love you. She’s done with your games.”
“And moved on to yours, I suppose?” Darren taunted.
“Evie knows what I am,” Methos informed him, now circling the vampyre carefully. Darren was positioning himself so that both of them would soon be out of my line of sight. He probably hoped to lure me out using my curiosity for what was to happen if they fought. But I would not budge. I would listen and pray that Methos survived.
I heard Darren say, “Then Evie also knows you are about to die. Your kind has no idea how to kill me.”
“Taking your head will end your existence just as quickly as it would mine.”
“Would it? You’d have to catch me first.”
I watched as Methos lunged toward the vampyre, and then I could see nothing. Darren growled, avoiding the swinging sword. I heard a lot of panting and shuffling as they fought. I bit down on my thumb hard when Methos screamed. Ignoring his command, I snuck to the edge of the Dumpster, peeking around the corner. Methos was lying on the ground and Darren stood on top of him, one foot on his chest and the other on his right hand still clutching the sword.
Darren heard me and turned to look at me. When he did, Methos threw him off, sending Darren into a roll. Methos leapt quickly above him, the blade of his sword ending up resting across the front of the vampyre’s neck.
“You should have done it,” Darren smiled. “You won’t get another chance. Draw back now and I go for your jugular.”
I could see Methos was already covered in blood. His left arm not wielding the sword looked mangled, and dark blood soaked his sweater from his shoulder all the way down.
“Evie!” Darren called to me. “I’ll let your boyfriend live if you’ll leave with me tonight.”
“I’m never going anywhere with you again. Just leave us alone, please,” I cried.
“Afraid I can’t do that. You are mine and you always will be,” Darren returned.
“That’s hard to swallow,” Methos broke in, “considering your position at the moment.”
Darren looked at Methos above him, “No worse than yours. You don’t have the strength to finish me like this.”
Without looking at me Methos said, “Get back by the wall, Evie. Whatever happens, I don’t want you to see it. Go!”
I went. I took two steps. Behind me Darren snarled and Methos groaned. Something hit the street then all was silent again. I hugged my arms around my body and inhaled a ragged breath through my clenched teeth. I forced myself to turn around. Methos was in one piece. Darren’s head lay at his feet. The vampyre’s body, a few paces away, still jerkingly attempted to claw its way toward the Immortal who had killed it.
I ran to Methos. He dropped his sword to embrace me. I sobbed until he asked me, “What do we do with him now? Do we burn the body?”
I nodded into his shoulder, dreading the thought, but knowing from those who’d warned me of what sort of creature Darren was, that this was the only course of action to stop him. He would never have let me live without him. Methos pulled a matchbook from his jeans’ pocket. He lit one of the tiny sticks and threw in onto the twisted pile of clothes still approaching us. Seconds later it was engulfed in flames, the preternatural flesh a fearsomely effective accelerant, and we were both crying.
Methos’ left arm was again strong and unscathed as he picked me up and carried me back into his apartment building. He laid me on his unmade bed and removed his bloody sweater so that he could sprawl beside me.
first penned June 18, 2000
revised through September 27, 2000