Clocksworth

The power pulsed within me. I felt it spreading from the center of my body and out through every leg, arm, and finger. There was no turning back now; I knew that. For all these years, I had held back, pushed down the temptation to feel, to let go. I hadn't done it—why? For his sake.

I laughed dryly at the irony of it all. He would probably stay, but would he hate me? I sighed heavily; it didn't matter. The most important thing was that he survived. I glanced down at the figures gathered in the square by the bullet-riddled car, but I hesitated—did he need more time?

I looked at my hands; they were stained with blood and dirt but stronger than ever. I felt the hunger creeping in, and I had to struggle to push it away—not now, not yet, I told myself. But soon. Soon I would need to create my own army, and now I had the power to do it.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and felt my body dissolve where I stood, silently appearing down in the square, right behind Belmont. I hesitated. I knew he felt my presence, but he stood as still as before. I raised my hand but stopped a few centimeters before my fingertips touched his shoulder.

"Who are you?" he finally whispered, and the words felt like a thousand knives through my heart.

I took a deep breath and collected myself before placing my hand on his back. "I'll tell you everything."

I heard him sniffle, and I saw him wipe away tears with his sleeve before turning to face me. "Who are you?" he repeated coldly.

"Clocksworth," I started, but seeing that he wouldn't settle for that, I sighed and continued, "and Anthony."

"What the hell!!" He took a step back with wide eyes, and I saw panic spread across his face.

"Bel, take it easy. Listen!" I stepped forward, but he backed away before I could grab his wrist. "Bel... please..." I pleaded. "Just listen..."

With his hands over his face, he let out an animalistic roar of anger, and in pure desperation, he stepped forward and shoved me in the chest, causing me to stumble backward. "When were you going to tell me?!"

"I wanted to—"

"WHEN?!"

I bit my lip and closed my eyes as I tried to maintain my balance against his pushes and blows. "I didn't want to scare you," I murmured at last.

A hard punch in the face made me suddenly open my eyes again and meet Belmont's bloodshot, tear-filled gaze. "So you thought I would be afraid... of you?" he hissed.

"I... I was scared that—"

"Who the hell do you think I am!?" He threw his arms wide and spun around, "after everything I've done for you, and you keep this from me!"

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed, "There was never a good time." 

What the hell could I say? I picked up my coat and brushed it off before letting my arms slide into the sleeves, my right hand retrieving the cigar box from my inner pocket while the other found the lighter. I knew he was watching me; I tried to appear confident, but my heart was about to break. I knew it was now, right at this moment, that everything would be decided. Would he stay with me, or would he leave? 

I placed the cigar between my lips and lit it; the familiar taste of smoke filled my mouth as I steeled myself, and inside my head, the three words repeated like a mantra, stay with me... stay with me... stay with me.

Belmont

"So he lives inside you?" The words made my throat tighten, and I suddenly felt nauseous.

"It's hard to explain," Clock sighed, shaking his head.

"Try," I urged with an unusually sharp voice.

"Old vampires have powers that newer generations lack," he began hesitantly. His uncertainty and fear somehow made me feel better, as if the knowledge that he seemed to be feeling just as bad as I was about this shit calmed me.

"Like moving in a cloud of darkness?"

He nodded. "When a prince kills another vampire, he takes its power and energy and makes it his own. The more he kills, the stronger he becomes, and in turn, he can create new vampires."

"So how could you get his powers? You're no prince!"

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his forehead as he sat on one of the steps of an abandoned house. "I don't know; I really have no idea, Bel," he sighed. "It must have been his own choice."

I was boiling inside; it was so damn typical of Anthony to still mess with us, even though he was dead. "So he decided to take over your body?"

I saw Clock shudder before he stood up and walked over to me. "Hell no! Hemsoul isn't in me!" He grabbed my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Just his powers, not his will, not his wishes, or his memories. Just his powers."

I hesitantly raised my hand and ran my thumb across his stubbled cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure," he said, but something in his eyes said otherwise.

"Do you promise?"

The corner of his mouth curled up in a crooked smile before he leaned forward, our foreheads touching. "I know you don't trust me right now."

I sighed impatiently and ran my fingers through his hair, taking a firm grip and pulling downward until he got the hint and looked up. "Do you promise?" He looked straight into my eyes as he nodded. "Say it," I commanded.

"I promise, Bel, I promise that his soul and will are not within me. It's just me and no one else."

With a sob, I stepped forward and let my arms wrap tightly around him. "God, you scared me," I whispered hoarsely, trying to hold back the tears in my throat. 

His arms were as warm and reassuring as always when they enveloped me. He smelled like he always did; his lips felt the same against my neck. But still, something was different—it was as if his aura had changed. He felt stronger, darker, and more frightening, and he reminded me all too much of him. 

"So, what happens now?" I mumbled, my face resting against his neck.

"We're going to find Lu."

"Clock," I sighed, "that was a trap. Do you really think he's alive?"

His hands cradled my cheeks as he tilted my face up, and soon I felt his warm lips press against mine in a hard, deep kiss. For a few minutes, the world around us disappeared, and all I could think about was his tongue, his lips, and his scent.

But I was jolted back to reality when he broke the kiss with a smile on his lips and whispered, "I know where he is."

With a surprised furrow in my brow, I studied him closely. "How?"

His answer made me shiver. "I saw it in one of the vampires' memories."

"You... saw it?"

"When I killed him," he explained with such certainty that I didn't want to ask more.

I might not love him the same way I once had, but I cared about him. Still, there were things I didn't want to know, and I decided to stop asking about everything. "So when do we leave?"

"Now," he grinned, turning around to shout at the other two who were resting on another stone step. "Roch, find a car! We're leaving." The big man nodded before he stood up and walked off.

"And Calvos?" Gaston asked, who had stood up and approached us.

"He's not a problem anymore," Clock stated. "He knows who I am now, so I'd be surprised if he continued this war."

A chilling sensation spread through my body as I realized the implication of those words. "Clock," I mumbled in a hesitant voice, "what about the other princes?"

"They will hate me," he replied with a wide smile that spread across his face. A smile that made the blood freeze in my veins, a smile I had never seen on his face before, but one that I remembered all too well.

Clocksworth

"He needs blood." I glanced over at Gaston, who was studying Belmont in turn. 

I saw the staggering steps and heard the heavy breaths. The gunshot wounds were healed, but the silver still tormented his body. "Do you see any willing victims nearby?" I snapped back with a pointed gesture toward the desolate, grassy expanses we had wandered over for hours. 

We had left the car on the roadside and started our walk toward the old castle ruin without blood or rest. 

 "No," he muttered quietly, stepping a few paces away from me. 

 "Since when do you care a damn about him anyway?" I threw a threatening glance at the short-haired vampire. I saw the uncertainty in his eyes, the fear of a prey animal trapped before its hunter. 

 "I just care," he mumbled even quieter, shrugging before he took a few quick steps, hastening his pace so that he ended up far ahead of the rest of us. 

 I glanced back and met Roch's gaze. He said nothing but stepped forward and placed a supportive arm around Bel's waist. "Come on, Princess, we're almost there." 

 Stone, moss, and mud. I sighed heavily to myself as I looked up at the ruins of the old abandoned castle. For Bel, it couldn't be more stereotypical, like something out of an old Dracula film, but for me, there was history in this place; this was home. 

 "You should make this our next headquarters," Belmont panted playfully, and I laughed dryly at the comment. 

 "I thought you missed the city life in New York."

 He sighed heavily, "I do, but this suits you better somehow." 

 I turned around and raised an eyebrow, "are you implying that I'm too old?"

 "Not too old," he laughed, "just old," he continued in a matter-of-fact tone, shrugging and giving me a teasing smile. 

 "Watch your mouth," I warned with a look that revealed what I planned to do with him when we were alone, but he just rolled his eyes and laughed. 

 "Don't promise too much; you're always so busy these days." 

 Quickly, I grabbed his arm, and with a light tug, I made him stop. "You know I'm doing this for us, so we can have a future without being hunted and—" 

 "I know," he interrupted, nodding slightly before running his thumb over my chin. A barely noticeable motion that still made my whole body react. 

"One day, everything will be different." Something in his voice made me realize he didn't believe his own words. It struck me that he didn't think we would survive this. 

"When Lumiere is with us, everything will be easier." 

 I saw his worried expression, the sadness in his eyes, and the doubt. He let his hand glide down to my neck; I saw him hesitate. "Theodor..." I studied his lips as I waited for him to continue. "Just prepare for the worst. Okay?" 

 I frowned and looked up at him. "And what could that be, Bel?" 

 He pondered; I knew it because he always got a little wrinkle between his eyebrows when he thought about something serious. "It might be our Lumiere," he began. "Your Lumiere," he corrected himself. "But, what if he's not the same? Who the hell knows what they've done to him all these years?" 

 I bit my lip, envisioning Lu chained and tortured, starving, or worse—fed bad blood. "You're right," I whispered softly, "he might be different." 

 With lips barely brushing my cheek, he whispered gently, "Come on, let's go check." 

 I nodded and took his hand before we slowly followed Gaston and Roch up the narrow path to the hollow gate. "Wait here," I ordered the other two and tightened my grip on the trembling hand before we stepped into the ruin and were enveloped by the pitch-black darkness.