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#vampire!Charles leclerc

httpsleclerc · 2 months

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under the monaco moonlight - vampire!au

pairing/s: Gasly!Reader x unnamed!bf, Vampire!Charles Leclerc x Gasly!Reader, Platonic!Pierre Gasly x Gasly!Sister!Reader, Platonic!Arthur Leclerc x Gasly!Reader

c/w: Implied smut, attempt of sexual assault, brief shitty descriptions of violence, bad ending??

w/c: 1.7k

summary: Charles Leclerc is in love with the forbidden fruit, or his best friends sister Y/N Gasly and can't control his instincts when she's in trouble.

a/n: no one asked for this but I might do a part two if anyones interested x

masterlist

Charles knew this was wrong.

You were his childhood best friends little sister, but he couldn't help himself from watching the way your hips swayed in time to the music which blared over the speakers, your mini skirt - Which he knew your brother would not be happy seeing you in - rising higher up your thighs as you moved. He knew that it was wrong to think of himself between your thighs, pleasuring you in ways which you'd never been before, satisfying you unlike how the boy you were grinding against would.

He needed you so bad it hurt.

If his heart were beating he was sure he'd feel it ache in desire for you.

He stood by Arthur, his eyes trained on you as his jaw clenched and he tightly gripped the glass he'd been nursing as he watched you, so tight that he would surely smash the glass into tiny pieces if he held it any harder. He feared if he pursued you any more than he had, then your heart would end up in the same way as the glass could, he feared he'd fall too in love with you and sink his teeth too far into your neck, leaving you helpless and bleeding. He'd never be able to explain himself to Pierre, how could be explain what he had done to his best friends precious baby sister? Your one night fling weeks ago had become a regular thing, despite you being adamant that you loved your boyfriend, but any time you and him had sex, all you could do was think about was Charles, how good he made you feel, how deliciously full you felt when he was inside you, the way that he left you stumbling the next day; scrambling for an excuse to try and satisfy your boyfriend.

"You are staring at her again, Charles," Arthur chided his older brother, he knew just how in love with you Charles was, but also knew that he'd never let himself love you properly for the fear of hurting you. Sleeping with you and being the other man would have to suffice for now.

"No I am not," Charles defended himself quickly, too quickly for Arthur to believe him. "I'm just...keeping an eye on her with that stupid boy. Pierre asked me to." Arthur chuckled at Charles' excuses. The two Leclerc's watched as you turned and faced your boyfriend, giggling as you pressed a small kiss on his lips and heading off to the bathroom, entrusting him with your drink - Which would be your first mistake of the night. Charles watched as you weaved your way through the mass crowd of the club towards the bathroom and flitted his attention back to that of your boyfriend, watching as he emptied a sachet of white powder into your drink.

"Charles?" Arthur nudged him, trying to see what had gained his brothers attention but Charles' attention was otherwise diverted away from his little brother. How dare this boy violate your trust like this?

"Fucker, I'm going to kill him," Charles went to storm off, but Arthur grabbed him before he could do any harm to your boyfriend. "Arthur let me go. He's going to hurt her." He backed off, noticing that Charles' eyes were no longer their usual green colour, now a deep, dark red. His eyes scanned the crowd, seeing you standing back with your boyfriend, now looking disoriented and swaying on your feet, putting up no argument as he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the crowd with no regard to you stumbling over your feet in your high heels.

Charles weaved his way through the crowd, blood and adrenaline pumping through his veins as the music continued to pound through the speakers and coloured lights flashed and illuminated the otherwise dark club that he was in. Making his way outside, his pale skin shone under the Monaco moonlight, eyes scanning for you anywhere in the crowd gathered outside of the club.

"No, I don't feel good," He heard you whining from a dark alleyway a couple of streets down, your voice thick with tears and fear. You felt like you were dying, you were hot one minute, cold the next, your stomach was halfway up your throat ready to be thrown up at any minute, and you didn't have the strength to defend yourself against your boyfriend. You wanted to go home, you wanted Pierre to come and get you and make sure that this boy was too scared to ever look in your general direction ever again. "(Name), please stop, I don't feel well." You pleaded, futilely trying to push him off of you, your eyes welling up with tears as he pushed his knee in between your legs.

"It won't hurt as much if you stop struggling, pretty girl."

That sent Charles over the edge. He promised Pierre that he wouldn't let anything happen to you and now you needed help. Before he could hurt you any further, he was pulled off of you, hitting the wall opposite with a grunt.

Charles loomed over him, his teeth bared and eyes red.

Drowning out the sound of your crying and whimpering, Charles let his instinct take over, tearing into your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend as you screamed and cried, unsure if you were really seeing this or if you were hallucinating. You covered your eyes as you cried, shielding yourself from the violent attack happening in front of you.

Charles huffed he stood back up, wiping blood away from the side of his mouth and turning back to face you, his stomach dropping as he saw your distraught and distressed state. Panicking, he pulled your hands away from your face hoping that his familiarity would in some way calm you down - but the sight of your brothers best friend with red eyes and a face covered in your boyfriends blood only pushed your fear.

"No! Let go of me! Someone help me!" You screamed out, trying in vain to push Charles off of you so you could find someway to get back home. Charles, in a further panic, pressed his hand onto your mouth to silence your screaming.

"Please calm down, ange, it's all okay, I promise," Charles tried to calm you, even if it appeared to be without any result as you continued struggling to try and get away from him. "Please, please just calm down and let me explain, just let me talk to you." Looking into Charles eyes, you found yourself feeling more and more at ease, still despite your efforts to get away from him. His stomach sunk as he realised he'd unintentionally tranced you, leaving you at his mercy.

"Charles, what...what's going on?" You dazedly asked him, slumping forward into his embrace and leaning your head on his shoulder, leaving your neck perfectly exposed to him; Charles found months and years of self-control withering away, he'd never allowed himself to be in such close proximity to you.

"Please not now, Y/N, you need to rest," He tried to persuade you to go to sleep, hoping that under your trance like state that you would. Fighting sleep, you looked up into Charles' red eyes, hoping to find some glimpse of your Charles, not this...blood sucking monster, you wanted your Charles who always made sure to clean you up after your sexual encounters, who made sure that you were still okay with what you were doing, who you knew loved you but for some reason you never knew, could never let himself.

"I love you, Charles," You confessed, pulling his blood soaked face to look at you, even though all he could focus on was the pulse point of your neck, the sound of your blood rushing through your veins was too much for him to take.

He couldn't take it anymore.

You let out a gasp as Charles' fangs pierced through your neck, two sharp pain points flashing and then going numb. You knew that it was futile trying to get away from him, and accepted that if this was how you died, then you were dying in the arms of the man that you loved - even if it meant you'd never see your beloved brother again.

As Arthur made his way outside and up the street to look for where Charles had gone, he stopped in his tracks as he saw you laying almost lifeless in his brothers arms, his teeth well sunk into your neck as the blood had almost been drained from your body and the life drained from you.

"Charles! stop!" He pulled Charles off of you, unsure if you were even still alive. "Oh my God, Charles, you have to help her." Arthur checked your neck where Charles had bitten you, feeling a faint pulse.

"No, I can't, Pierre will kill me, Arthur," Charles was near hyperventilating, and looked at Arthur confused as he let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Oh, and you think he won't kill you when someone finds her here dead and you have to explain to Pierre that it was you, and that you left her here like a coward because you can't control yourself?!" The two brothers were now panicking, despite being in some way immortal, they were terrified of Pierre, your older brother was fiercely defensive over you. Acting quickly and moving beside you once more, Charles bit into his wrist, piercing the vein and watching as his blood slowly trickled out, much darker and thicker than your own, and put his wrist at your mouth, forcing you to drink his blood despite your very weak protests.

"We'll take her back to my place, tell Pierre she met a friend and she's staying there for the night, deal?"

"Deal."

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #vampire!au #vampire!Charles leclerc #pierre gasly x sister!reader #pierre gasly x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #supernatural au

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ynbabe · 2 months

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Bite Me ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU

Charles had admittedly done many stupid things in his life, getting turned into a vampire in a club in Monaco was definitely one of them, but at least he has you, but what happens when his brothers see the bite marks on you?

Was it obvious I was listening to Lana del Rey while writing this?

You groaned as his teeth sank into your collarbones, blood seeping out into his mouth. Your grip on his shoulders as a pang of pain rolls through your body as he sucks on the open wound, lapping up the warm blood that poured out.

Your nails dug deeper into his bare back as the pain increased, a small groan escaping his lips as you broke skin. Your head fell back as Charles finally let go.

You pressed your hand to your head feeling light-headed, squinting your eyes you missed the look of guilt Charles had.

"I'm sorry, Mon Amore," he kissed your neck, lips still sticky. You could only hum in response. He laid down on top of you, burying his head on your chest.

"Did you get enough?" You asked him, making him nod against your skin.

When you first found out, you were terrified, almost running out of the apartment when he showed you his teeth but his puppy eyes made your heart break. So you stayed.

"Lets go clean up," he whispered in your ears, picking you up.

You showered first, then changed into a simple pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not realising all the old bites that had turned into nasty bruises could be seen easily.

Just as you had tied up your hair, the doorbell rang. "Hey, babe, are you expecting anyone?" you called out.

"I don't think so," he yelled back. You sighed and walked out of your bedroom, going to check who'd interrupted Charles and your weekend bliss.

You had barely opened the door when Arthur came barreling in, a tired Lorenzo behind him, an apologetic look on his face. "Hey, Y/n," he greeted pulling you in for a hug, unknowingly applying pressure on Charles' bite marks, making you hiss in the older man's arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gasping when he saw the yellowed bruises on your arms, redder- more newer ones on your shoulders and the still fresh ones on your neck and collar bone.

His eyes widened as he pushed into the apartment, turning you around to see the 'damage', you tried to explain that it wasn't a big deal. It was Arthur's turn to go ballistic, he stopped talking, staring at you with his jaw slacked open. "What the fuck?" He whispered.

"Guys this isn't what you think-" You began but they wouldn't accept it.

Lorenzo furrowed his brows, "Did Charles do this to you?" he asked.

"No, Enzo," you tried to explain, without outing Charles' secret, "Not, in the way you think, he- it's not," you seriously weren't prepared to be interrogated today.

"Oh my god," he looked away, "this isn't right, Y/n, we can help you, I know he's our brother but you can talk to us," he started, Arthur butting in.

"Fuck that, he's hurting you y/n, you get help," Arthur called out. You were touched by their protectiveness but you had to explain before they thought the worst of Charles.

"Guys please," you tried once again but to no avail. Suddenly you were pushed behind the two boys, and before you could ask why you saw Charles walk out, a matching pair of sweatpants on, hair still dripping from the shower.

He seemed shocked to see his brother, especially the anger in their eyes, he moved towards you but they pressed forward, confusing him further.

"Hey-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HEY US YOU BASTARD," Arthur yelled making Charles flinch.

Arthur pulled you further back, glaring at his bother.

"How could you? You were supposed to love her! Maman raised you better than this!" Lorenzo yelled making Charles' eyes well with tears.

"What- what are you talking about?" He asked, trying to make sense of the whole situation, when Lorenzo pointed at you and all the recovering bite marks.

A look of realisation flashed across his face making him smile in relief, pissing off his brothers even more, "YOU'RE FUCKING SMILING" Arthur barked, throwing a pillow at Charles with deadly accuracy but he was faster, much faster.

"How could you even think I could do something like that?" He asked, suddenly infront of Arthur, "I'm a vamipre, not a monster!" He exclaimed, showing his fangs.

"Oh..." Arthur said meekly before passing out in your arms.

"Your a- a what? Is this some weird sex thing, because I don't want to know." Lorenzo asked with a hint of disgust in his voice.

Charles laughed and nodded no, explaining to his brother how he got into the predicament, providing proof by easily lifting Arthur by the collar with one hand.

"I- uh, I need to-" he pointed at the sofa, sitting down with his head in his hands. Charles placed Arthur next to Lorenzo, while you brought them water, gently waking up Arthur.

You and Charles took your place across them.

"So, you're fine with, whatever this is?" He asked you, waving his hands between Charles and you.

"Yeah,"

"H-how do you drive? Arent most races in the sun?" Arthur asked, finally waking up.

"Art, it's not like Twilight," he explained, "I just need more sunscreen than usual," he shrugged.

"Does Fred know? Any of the other drivers? Maman?" Lorenzo shot off.

Arthur on the other hand was interested in other questions, "Does your skin sparkle? Do you know any other vampires? How fast can you run? Do you actually drink blood?" he rambled, water long forgotten.

"Calm down, Arthur," You laughed at the younger boy.

"One question at a time guys, but no, no one else knows, not even Maman," he looked at Lorenzo.

"And no, my skin doesn't sparkle, it's not Twilight!" he exclaimed once again, making Arthur roll his eyes, "Yes, Fernando's one, and maybe Lance but I'm not sure, I can run pretty fast now, and yes, I need blood to survive now," he explained each answer making Arthurs eyes grow wider.

"That's where I come in," You raised your hand, pointing to the bite marks on your body.

"Does that hurt?" Lorenzo asked.

"It used to, not as much now," you shrugged, "It heals fast when I drink his blood," You explained making Arthur gag.

"So it's like TVD," he grimaced,

"I mean, yeah, sure," you answered.

A few more questions and finally Lorenzo and Arthur were satiated, deciding to leave. rather than staying for what they had originally come to do.

"I'm kind of hungry, order in?" Charles winked at you making you roll your eyes.

"Bite me."

Hope y'all like this, as always comments and reblogs are much appreciated! Also, how would y'all like a DC-style Logan fic? I've been itching to write that!

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #lorenzo leclerc #lorenzo leclerc x reader #lance stroll #fernando alonso #vampire au

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cutielando · 8 months

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✧༺♥༻∞ MASTERLIST ✧༺♥༻∞

hello, you gorgeous souls, and welcome to my blog !!!

i created this blog in order to kinda give myself a safe space to express myself and the wonders my mind comes up with lol

a little about me: i'm 19 years old, i'm from a beautiful country in central europe and i'm a freshman at university.

i'm basically a college student with absolutely no free time but i'd rather write stories than actually study.

welcome aboard, i hope we're going to have fun together !!!

THE ONLY PEOPLE I WRITE FOR ARE THE ONES LISTEN BELOW!!!!

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!! feel free to send in any requests you might have ! <3

FOLLOW @cutielandoscorner AND TURN NOTIFICATIONS ON TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN I POST!!!

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- Logan Sargeant 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

- Alex Albon 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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thisismeracing · 6 months

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Love Bites | CL16 (Patreon exclusive)

― Pairing: Vampire!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Word count: 1.7k ― Warnings: description of death and blood, but nothing extremely graphic. ― Summary: It is believed that during the Halloween season, cursed souls and entities come out to play. As it happens, some of them can come uninvited, but things get a lot easier for the dark side when people like Yn are challenged by her friends to go beyond the safety of the town and into the woods looking for a cursed church. One wouldn’t want to be near to witness humans discover history they’re not supposed to.

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Read full piece here

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this little preview, I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia) for proof and beta-reading this <3. You can read this piece and others that will be posted during this month by subscribing to my Patreon (here)🤍.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @piggyinthesea @dearxcherry @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @f1-ln4-mv33-cl16-dr3-op81 @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercdream @kagatinkita @v1naco @skepvids

©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work. do not repost on a different media platform.

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venusbleclerc · 9 months

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Guys... i did something and I'm obsessed

#vampire #f1 fanart #f1 #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #formula one #charles leclerc #lando norris #lestappen #carlos sainz #carlando #f1 art

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wolfiemcwolferson · 9 months

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Calamar’s Club 2023 Fantasy Fest

We had so so much fun hosting the Fantasy Fest for 2023 in the Calamar’s Club Discord and we want to thank all of our participants for feeding us prime Piarles fics! I will link all of them below, please go and read them! You will not be disappointed! The Mods for this fest are: @singsweetmelodies @boxboxbrioche @welightitup @river-ocean @duquesademiel and me - WolfieMcWolferson

Title: the blood’s run stale by the lovely @m1tchevans (7k words, complete) Summary: Charles thinks he knows everything about Pierre until he finds him on the finish line in Monaco, his eyes pitch black and his shirt stained red. Further down the street, in an apartment with a familiar red and yellow flag hanging from the window, a dog growls, and a man starts to scream. "Why would someone do that? Give their life?” Charles asks, his mouth suddenly drier than the desert. "I didn’t check," Pierre answers quietly. "But I’m pretty sure it was for you."

Title: the anatomy of us by the wonderful @pinkierre (currently 4k words, WIP) Summary: When his life at home doesn’t satisfy him anymore, Pierre boards a ship from Marseille, sailing into the open world. Charles is a terrified and lonely shifter, who loathes himself, and his shifter form, more than anything. The two meet through an unfortunate event. Can they help one another to find themselves?

Title: if it weren’t for the everything by the sublime @gaslybottoms (24k words, complete) Summary: “You talk about humanity as if they are nothing more than a meal to you.” Pierre shrugs at Charles’ comparison, because in a sense he isn’t that far wrong. Pierre had his fair chance at meeting anybody he felt the desire to over the years, and they always ended up the same way: six feet under and of no use to him. “What else do they have to offer me?” he asks instead, knowing Charles’ answer before he even says it.

Title: hold your hand in mine (starlights in your eyes) by the first-rate @your-littlesecret (20K words, complete) Summary: Charles still remembers the day they found his dragon vividly, he was barely 6. He also remembers the day they found Pierre's dragon, at 15. It has been the four of them ever since, never one without the other.

Title: the cold winds that blow us together by the terrific @yukierres (8k words, WIP) Summary: Pierre came to Orkney to escape, to find his freedom in these strange haunted islands at the edge of the world. And to follow the pull calling him here, the inner urge that made him board the boat and find out what awaits him. It isn't until he uncovers a strange seal figurine in the dirt and gets thrown into a quest to help out a Selkie with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and 4000 years of pain in his deep brown eyes that he understands what the call was. Destiny.

Title: Slow Sips by the sensational ghostmyghosthost (9.5k words, complete) Summary: They say the best way to deepen the bond as bonded mates is to French kiss with mouthfuls of blood. Just like vampire bats do.

Title: No matter how far the paths for both of them are (Those who are made for each other connects) by the superb @forelsketparadise (1.5k words, WIP) Summary: Pierre is starting to feel like the universe is trying to play a sick joke on him. Why else would his mate be the future Beta of the enemy pack? It makes no sense to him. The pack from Maranello has been rivals with Pierre's pack for centuries now. Certainly life won't be so cruel to him? There is no way he can even think about pursuing his mate and put his entire pack's safety at risk. He is the pack's future Alpha. He has to put the pack before himself.

Title: the bride of gévaudan by the grand @pipitwrites (12k words, complete) Summary: At the altar, Charles’s hands trembled as he took the cup of sweet wine from the priest and drank. It was only a small sip, but he felt the rush of heat spreading from his stomach, making him dizzy in a matter of seconds. There was a soft tickle at the back of his hand, barely even a touch. The tip of the Wolf’s tail swayed back at Charles’s elbow. Startled, Charles met the Wolf’s eyes. They were a shocking shade of icy blue and almost human in their regard.

Title: Intret amicitiae nomine tectus amor by the delightful @chipsandnuggets (5.5k words, complete) Summary: "Do you like Quidditch?" He says this, looking surprised. "Most of the time, Papillonlisse people don't." Charles nods with happiness. "I love Quidditch! My favourite team is the Cavalli Rampanti, and yours?" "Mine too!" or: Piarles wizards who happens to love Quidditch as much as they love each other but they don't know yet.

Title: Finally by the magic @car-bo-hydrate (3k works, WIP) Summary: Charles, Pierre's college dorm roommate, being a vampire wouldn't be much of an issue, if it weren't for the fact that Charles needed to fuck the other person he drank blood from because he would be overcome with lust. Or, 5 times Charles brought someone else back to their room to fuck after he had drunk blood from them, and the 1 time Pierre found out from Charles why he drank from everyone except for the very person he's sharing a room with.

Title: you are the light that’s leading me by the struggling @wolfiemcwolferson (series, 39k words, complete) Summary: Charles gets sucked into the multiverse. Can he get home?

#piarles #fantasy fics #werewolves and vampires and magic oh my #pierre gasly #charles leclerc

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ynbabe · 1 month

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Heyyy, so I recently read ‘bloody red’ and i love the story! I love the lore of it and i like reading about supernatural stuff. Just a question, are all drivers in the fic vampires or are there some drivers that aren’t vampires??

Also, can you make headcanons about some of the that are vampires?? If that’s okay with you. Thx

-🥬

Thank you so muchhhh!! Here's the list of the vamps in the AU and how they turned:

Charles- 25 at a club by *REDACTED*

Lewis- 28 by Nico when he got into Mercedes with him in 2013

Nico- Born Vampire

Carlos- Paid someone to turn him after he found out Charles was turned to ensure he didn't have an undue advantage.

Fernando- He's simply been around forever

George- Turned by Lewis because long-haired George is eerily similar to Nico and Lewis was in his feels (bro got hungry)

Logan- Turned by George when they were wallowing in pity together (the how is up to ur imagination 🤭)

Nico H- Turned sometime in the 90's

I plan on making a detailed hc post a lil later, also I'm also planning to write this as a ship fic on Ao3 without a reader, would y'all be interested in that?

Thank u 🥬 anon for the ask!!!

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f1tyreslightmyfyre · 5 months

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Immortal Artistry - Ch. 6

Series Main List

A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)

Also on AO3

Ch. 6 Warnings: Stalker behavior; WWII references to Hitler and Nazi regime; non-graphic vampire violence

The scent of… cooking? Meat? Beef? Tickles your nose.

Blinking awake against your pillow, the smell fills your bedroom, so fresh and vivid. But you live alone – so who in the hell is currently in your kitchen? With a groan, you scrub a hand across your face before glancing at your phone. Fuck, you’re already so late for work – at least you don’t have a boss yet to report your tardiness.

Crawling out of bed with a yawn, you hear a faint rattle of metal pans in the kitchen and… is that also jazz music? Throwing on a sweatshirt over your sleepshirt and deciding your shorts are good enough, you grab your phone and step out into the living room.

Sunlight shafts through the windows and jazz music does indeed come from some source in your kitchen as a man stands over your stove. He’s not… well, you’ve never seen him before. His bronze skin paints a sharp contrast to your white kitchen cabinets, and the black hair atop his head is thick to match the visible hair on solid forearms. The broad line of his shoulders tapers down a strong back to a lean waist, and… good lord, did you not have enough thirsty thoughts last night?

“Good morning.” He calls out with Spanish-accented syllables without glancing over his shoulder. “After last night, you need food – and probably some of those.” He turns and fixes you with the most soulful brown eyes as he points at the end of your counter. An unfamiliar pill bottle rests next to a steaming cup of coffee, and your uneasiness grows.

Gripping your phone tighter, you cross your arms against your chest. “And what’s to stop me from calling the cops instead?”

The man gives a dismissive shrug of his shoulder before turning back to tend to the skillet on the stove. “Nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been arrested, nor the last probably.” With a spatula flip, a loud sizzling noise fills the air. “But I’m here to help – after George texted me last night, it’s the least that I could do.”

A chill runs down your spine – not because you’re surprised to meet yet a fourth vampire in as many days – but, well… you dart a sharp gaze to the windows. And no, you aren’t just imagining the glow of bright morning sun painting the city and shining on your windowsill. “But it’s morning – it’s daylight out.” You say, quickly turning back to keep a closer eye on him. “If you’re… well, like George – then shouldn’t you be turning into dust or something right now?”

The man snorts an amused chuckle as he turns and reaches for a plate. “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever tried it before? Or maybe they have and it’s our best kept secret? But a little sunscreen, a little sleep deprivation…” He pauses, waggling a brow as he turns back around. “Mr. Stoker didn’t get everything right.”

Something about it – about him – is undeniably charming and despite your better judgment, your unease starts to ebb. Or maybe that’s the exhaustion talking because fuck... it’s just too early for any and all of this. You shake your head, still waking up and trying to process just… well, everything.

“Come on,” the man prompts, waving you over to the counter. “Food will be finished soon, but coffee is already there.”

With a sigh, not knowing what else to do, you walk over to the counter. The steaming mug invites your temptation – even the sugar bowl rests next to it with a spoon. “How… how do you know I take sugar in my coffee?” You ask. “How do you even know how to make coffee? You can’t drink it.”

The man gives a vague tilt of his head. “I don’t, but my girlfriend does… and she says you can never go wrong offering sugar with coffee.”

An incredulous laugh bubbles in your throat. “Your girlfriend… as in, like… a mortal?”

He arches a challenging brow. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

You slump onto the counter-height stool, reaching for the coffee cup. “Honestly, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Believe that food will make you feel better – and coffee, and one of those supplements.” He nods again at the bottle and turns back to the stove, switching off the heat. “If you’re going to let Charles feed from you, then you should learn about vitamin B12.”

Your brows pinch indignantly as a blush overtakes your cheeks. “I’m not going to let him… feed from me –”

“Oh, but clearly he did last night. His scent is everywhere.” The man says, busying himself at the counter – and why do you still not know his name?

Raising the mug to your lips, the coffee washes over your tongue and it – surprisingly, isn’t burned or too bitter. Nor is it too scalding, and you take a hearty gulp. “What’s your name?” You ask, licking a stray drop from your top lip. “I’m –”

“I know your name.” He cuts you off breezily as he turns around with a plate in hand. “My name is Carlos.”

Your brows furrow at the sight of a hamburger as he sets the plate in front of you. “Hamburgers aren’t breakfast food, you know.”

“Oh, but you’ll like this one – my girlfriend says it’s the best hangover cure.”

Another laugh catches in your throat. “There’s… that… I have so many questions.”

“After you eat, maybe.” He nods down at your plate as he reaches for the supplement bottle. “And I’m serious, but you’re not listening – treat blood loss like a hangover, yes? Hydrate, eat, and take B12.”

Two tablets shake from the bottle into his hand onto the plate and… honestly, the last thing you expected this morning was to wake up to a vampire nursemaid. Unsure what else to do and unable to deny the food’s heavenly aroma, you tuck into the burger. Flavors of savory mushroom, seared beef, buttered bread, tangy pickles, and spicy mayo burst on your tongue – and fuck, this burger is easily the best thing you’ve eaten in months. You take another greedy bite, realizing just how hungry you are.

Carlos hums a satisfied sound. “I’m glad you like it – I told you it was the best, yes?”

You dart your best annoyed glare up at him as you continue to chew.

He just smirks in return, looking far too casual and comfortable in your kitchen as he leans against the counter in jeans and a red polo shirt. Setting the burger down, you reach for your coffee as he reaches for his phone. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” you say. “So, why are you here cooking me a hamburger and telling me to take B12 supplements?”

“You should read this first.” He says as he sets his phone on the counter and slides it over to you.

A news article dated three weeks ago dominates the screen.

NAZI TREASURE MAP WITH RUMORED LOCATION OF LOOTED WORLD WAR II-ERA TREASURES STOLEN

The National Archives of Austria is reeling from a theft on the eve of their annual Open Access Day. As part of the Archives’ 2023 event, over 1,300 pages of previously classified or confidential World War II documents were planned to be made public. However, at least one document of interest will have to wait until it is recovered by authorities.

The stolen document is a map that is said to contain clues to three sites of never-found Nazi treasure that is rumored to be buried in a radius around Salzburg. When Austria was invaded in March 1938, the Oesterreichische Nationalbank had about 100 tons of gold. That was almost four times as much as the Germans had at the time. This golden treasure - in addition to watches, jewelry, jewels and more - was claimed by the Reichsbank and relocated exclusively to fund the Nazi war machine. As Hilter’s army swept Europe, looting more conquered countries of their riches and cultural treasures, the storage locations in the relative safety of Austria provided an ideal repository.

With the literal translation of “Salt-Fortress”, Salzburg’s natural Alpine surroundings contributed to its rich history in salt extraction and gold mining. The extensive network of underground mines and associated caverns provides plenty of opportunities for burying treasure in well-protected, well-isolated areas.

The theft of this map from the Austrian National Archives on the eve it was to be released to the public raises more questions than answers for investigators. Is someone trying to keep the location of the hidden treasure underwraps? Is the map accurate in its depiction of ‘x marks the spot’?

“To this day,” Franz Walzer, World War II historian says. “Approximately €6 billion from the Reichsbank remains unaccounted for, in total. But when you look at Austria - at the more famous hide sites like Salzwelten Altaussee, Austria’s largest salt mine - only approximately €8 million worth of treasure was recovered. If you ignore the priceless artwork and precious gems and focus on the gold bullion - about €123 million of Nazi gold remains unaccounted for. Is all that gold still resting - to this day - in some hidden cavern or cave in the mountainous terrain surrounding Salzburg?” The historian’s eyes twinkle with excited glee. “It’s certainly possible!”

You blink up from Carlos’ phone, trying to understand it. So what if a supposed World War II Nazi treasure map was stolen from some museum? How could that possibly have anything to do with -

Charles’ voice left no room for doubt. “I’ve been undead since 1940.”

“1940…?” You echoed. “Shit, that’s… World War II.”

“Yes, it was.”

The memory slaps you, but it also makes your brow furrow. Charles is Monegasque, not Austrian or German. And George…was he also around during World War II? But why would he possibly care about some old map? Surely, neither of them actually think that a hoard of Nazi gold just waits for them to discover…

Do they?

Too many thoughts cloud your mind for so little coffee, and you shake your head, setting the phone on the counter and reaching for your burger.

Carlos reaches out for his phone. “Toto says that Seb stole the map to give it to Charles, and what Toto says, George takes as gospel. Especially since Seb and Charles still remain… close.”

You nod incredulously, chewing a bite. “Right… I don’t know a ‘Seb’ or a ‘Toto’.” You say, arching a brow with mouth half-full of food. “But, seriously though… Toto? Like the band? Or the dog in the movie?”

The corner of Carlos’ mouth lifts. “He hated when that film was released – no one who quotes it to him tends to live much longer.”

“Sounds like, in his case, his bite is worse than his bark?” You chuckle softly as Carlos just stares down at you, crossing his arms against his chest. Heat burns your cheeks as you raise the burger for another bite. “Sorry… bad joke.”

“Then, you’re lucky that I at least find you funny.” He deadpans. “And the fact that you’re cracking poor jokes tells me that Charles is too busy playing mysterious and George hasn’t insulted your intelligence by assuming your ignorance.”

“But it is ignorance.” Indignation flares in your tone. “At least, up until now – assuming you’re saying what I think you’re saying. That Charles has some World War II treasure map that George wants for himself?” The words sound no less ridiculous as they ring in your ears, but honestly, life has stopped being normal since that first meeting with Charles Leclerc, III.

“That is what I’m saying. Except, George doesn’t think that Charles has it – he thinks that you have it.”

Your eyes widen as you nearly choke on your coffee. “That’s impossible – Charles has given me nothing. And… seriously, if Charles does have this treasure map, wouldn’t he and Max be in Austria trying to find it? Especially if it is millions, or even billions…”

“Is it possible that Charles believes there’s no truth to the map? Is it possible that he’s given you something and you just don’t know it? Is it possible that he’s had a change of heart over the decades?”

You arch an unimpressed brow. “You must give some credit to all of those theories, otherwise, I doubt you would be standing here in my kitchen.”

Again, the corner of Carlos’ mouth lifts, though this time it has a distinctly wistful edge. “I only saw one storage site for myself – the biggest, in fact. The Altaussee Salt Mines were said to contain nearly 8,000 paintings, drawings and sculptures, and truly… the collection was unbelievable – stunning, even for someone of my age.” His gaze hardens with memory. “But Charles and Max weren’t staring at it with the same wonder – it wasn’t new to them when I met them. By that point, they already had a system, you see.”

An incredulous laugh catches in your throat. “So, now Charles is an art thief?”

“He wasn’t easy to frighten off – but we did our best to hold the mines until the Allied troops arrived. And by July 1945, they reported the recovery of 6,577 pieces of artwork. But what happened to the other 1,423 works remains… a mystery.”

“So… Charles and Max stole 1,423 pieces of artwork from that mine?” A low throbbing ache starts to build in the base of your skull. You take another sip of coffee, hoping to chase it away. “And let me guess,” you continue when Carlos says nothing. “He’s holding it for ransom? Or he’s a black-market dealer of fine art, hmm?”

“Have you ever heard of Raphael’s Portrait of a Young Man? Or da Vinci’s Lady with an Ermine?”

Those names… wait. Why did those names seem familiar? Hadn’t you just read…? A chill runs along your skin as you glance back at Carlos. “I read something in passing… something about those paintings recently being found….”

“Two of Charles’ most recent sales,” Carlos pauses as he nearly rolls his eyes. “At least he has the decency to have the paintings restored before he takes them to market.”

“But this is all speculation.” You counter as your brow furrows. “You have no proof of any of this… right? If you did, you’d probably have him arrested by now… or staked, or… something.”

The corner of Carlos’ mouth curls with a disconcerting edge. “If the wisdom of immortality teaches anything, it’s the value of covering one’s tracks.”

“Or falsifying documents.” You hear yourself say as more puzzle pieces start to fall into place. “Obviously, Charles has a paper trail – there’s one at the office from grandfather to father to him… though, they’re probably all just versions of himself, right?”

Carlos waggles his brow in a show of approval. “You see? You’re already beginning to see.” He looks down to his phone, tapping the screen and the gentle jazz refrains fall silent. With a nod, he glances back up to you as he shoves his phone into a pocket and heads for the door. “And, now… once you finish that delicious burger, the rest is up to you.”

1945

“We’re close on this one.” George’s voice carries in the night as moonlight glints off mineral crystal formations. “I can feel it.”

“We don’t have many options left.” Carlos agrees as they traverse deeper into the darkened tunnel. “The soldiers have all pointed us to somewhere in these mountains.”

“And we can look for eternity if that’s what it takes.” George says as he scans the tunnel overhead. “Europe’s cultural heritage is in tatters and we cannot allow that to stand. Without art, without beauty, without reminders of the history so valiantly fought for - what is all this destruction truly worth?” He turns back, offering Carlos a cheeky grin. “It’s like you told me - to keep finding beauty no matter how ugly the world becomes.”

Carlos nods as he scans around the tunnel. Old mining remnants surround them - wire cables, chain and pulley rails, discarded refuse. The air hangs heavy with stale salt and rusting metal as they navigate deeper into the abandoned mine. Humanity has permanently scarred the Totes Gebirge long before either of the great wars erupted. But as the Allies continue to advance towards the nearly defeated German borders, nothing is safe from the destructive forces in retreat who stop at nothing - absolutely nothing - to leave behind anything more than flames and ashes.

And if the great art and literature of the European nations reduces to charred out husks, then what? Will that be the ultimate victory of the Axis Powers despite their defeat?

Sounds emerge from deeper in the tunnel - footsteps, voices and… shuffling? Movement? He catches Geroge’s gaze as they both freeze, listening with rapt attention. Even for their supernatural hearing, the voices are just far enough away to be unintelligible, but at least two distinct voices are audible.

George’s mouth curls with a hopeful grin. “Well, that’s the most promising we’ve ever heard.”

Carlos nods in silent agreement, motioning forward and to the tunnel on the right. George falls silently into place beside him as they move down the corridor, taking care to mask their movements. Even this deep behind enemy lines, they both still wear Allied uniforms that make anyone in a Nazi uniform jumpy with their trigger fingers. And the less bullets that Carlos has to dig out of his skin, the better.

The voices - speaking English - grow more pronounced as they venture down a sloping tunnel, following the rusted remains of ore cart rails.

“No, even without the signature, it’s one of Hals’.” A heavily French - or maybe Italian? - accented voice carries softly. “It’s a shame, really,” the man continues, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “We’ll have to mend it.”

“How exactly do we do that?” Another voice with a harsher, sharper accent asks. One that Carlos can’t immediately place. “Are you sure it’s even worth anything?”

“How dare you.” The first voice scolds almost playfully. “Frans Hals was practically the first person to prove that visible brushstrokes were a thing of beauty and not a flaw of the artist. See, just here?” A pause follows as Carlos and George round another corner to see the faint glow of yellow light ahead. “He’s been called the ‘Manet of his day’ for that.”

“If you say it’s true, then it probably is.”

The Frenchman chuckles softly. “Of course it is. I’m always right.” The shuffling of wood scraping against stone echoes in the tunnel. “Take this one up and I’ll start on the next one.”

Pressing up against the stone wall, Carlos motions for George to draw back into the shadows. He takes a silent step forward, just rounding the tunnel’s opening and glimpsing the scene beyond. An electric torch glows from where it’s pointed towards the stone ceiling, casting a faint glow over… dios mio.

The expansive collection of artwork, statues, books, crates, chests, and tapestries eclipses anything Carlos has ever seen in his undead existence. Countless great treasures of European history fill the cavern and disappear into other shadowy corridors, safely hidden away while destruction rages above. He can’t even begin to fathom the immense value of such a treasure pile, but there has to be enough here to endlessly fund a war machine - or rebuild a global power - if this falls into the wrong hands.

And the sight of the lone man in civilian clothes raises Carlos’ immediate suspicion. His dark brown curls are tousled from exertion as he leans over an open crate, inspecting the contents and making studious notes in a leather-bound ledger. The second man isn’t present, but if these two men are slowly removing this vast collection from the abandoned salt mine, then maybe more men await them on the surface.

Carlos steps out of the shadows. “Good evening.”

Sharp, startled green eyes dart up to connect with his, and Carlos’ brow furrows with curiosity. One vampire recognizes another, and he almost doesn’t believe it. Or at least, he stopped believing in coincidences long ago. But this green-eyed vampire is young… so very young to be so far behind German lines, and judging from the astonished look on his face, he hasn’t met too many other vampires to understand the power of supernatural instinct.

Carlos breaks from the stranger’s gaze and motions George forward.

Another soft gasp comes from the vampire across the room as his gaze meets George’s. The tall Briton shakes his head with an incredulous smile as he speaks. “Blimey… is this… does this always happen whenever you meet another vampire? This instant recognition?”

“The undead see what the living fail to notice.” Carlos simply answers before turning back towards the other vampire. “What’s your name, young one?”

The vampire arches an indignant brow. “If I’m undead, as you say - then you can’t trust the age of my face, can you?”

Carlos dips his head, shooting a glare from under his lowered brow. “Your disrespectful behavior tells me that you’re even younger than I thought.” He takes another step forward, watching the unknown vampire close the ledger protectively. “Tell me, where is your sire?”

The green-eyed vampire eyes him warily. “And why should I? We were here first, and you are trespassing.”

George huffs an indignant laugh. “Us? Trespassing?” He shakes his head as a grin teases the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, mate, is this not a German Army storage depot? And if you’re not a soldier, then we outrank you.”

“Your uniforms mean nothing here,” the other vampire scoffs with amusement. “Especially since we’re on the same side.”

Carlos runs his gaze down the man’s lean form. “You’re French, no?”

The other vampire huffs indignantly. “Come on, mate, I’m Monegasque.”

George’s face piques with curiosity. “But Monaco is neutral.”

“So is Spain, but your friend there still wears a uniform.”

“He’s not my friend,” George counters sharply. “He’s my sire, and you will show him due respect.”

“Due respect?” The other vampire answers cheekily. “Like we’re… we’re lords of old? Or dukes with titles?”

“Due respect,” George clarifies. “By standing aside and letting this vast collection of history be dealt with properly.”

The green-eyed gaze narrows sharply. “And just what does that mean? How do you know that we’re not dealing with it properly?”

Carlos shakes his head, glancing around the collection. “Quite clearly, you have some knowledge about art, but your other companion doesn’t sound nearly so enlightened. Now perhaps, you’re doing the right thing and returning these treasures to their rightful homelands… or perhaps, you’re doing something else if you speculate about their worth.”

A shrewd light sparks in those green eyes even as indignation tightens the line of his mouth. “How dare you suggest -”

George steps forward, thumping his foot against a crate to cut the other vampire off. “Oh, he’s not suggesting, mate. We heard you talking… and if you think you can sell off these treasures, then you’re just a war profiteer. And there are laws against those.”

“Laws of the mortals, hmm?” The other vampire shakes his head. “You must be even younger than me if your mortal construct is still so strong.”

Carlos’ gaze narrows. “Mortal construct… it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that phrase.”

The other vampire shrugs. “It’s what my sire calls it. And if my being so young is so bad, then you don’t get to judge when you have a mate that’s even younger than me.”

George hisses. “You need to learn some manners.”

“George,” Carlos whispers in warning. The situation already hangs by a tenuous thread and he doesn’t need two new vampires letting the venom get the better of them, succumbing to their aggressive, uncontrollable urges. While Carlos is certainly more experienced to incapacitate them both, there are too many treasures that would be collateral damage.

Carefully, Carlos glances over at the other vampire, whose face has hardened like an animal on the defensive. “Everyone just needs to keep calm,” he says softly, keeping his voice even. “We’re not here to threaten you, but we probably do need to come to an arrangement.”

The other vampire shakes his head. “There’s already an arrangement. If you’re just jealous that you didn’t get here first, then go find yourself another cave, mate.”

“Jealous?” George sneers. “What makes you think anything about this has to do with us?” He motions around at the vast collection. “If you think your immortality gives you the right to profit off centuries of human history, then you’ve already lost your way - you fail to see the beauty despite the ugliness of the world.”

“On the contrary,” the other vampire replies. “It’s because I see the beauty that the opportunity exists. War created it, after all - like it creates many other opportunities. But this here? Nothing more than the opportunity to save beauty from falling into obscurity.”

“By taking it for yourself.” George counters with disgust. “Rather than turning it over to the proper authorities to redistribute among the nations?”

The other vampire’s lip curls with snark. “I can’t help it if there’s no proper authorities here.”

George moves faster than Carlos sees it coming. He leaps over the nearest crate and leverages his taller height against the unknown vampire. The sounds of their struggle fill the cavern as they crash against a wooden crate, splintering the boards against stone. Carlos swiftly rounds the crates, intent to stop the clash when loud footsteps stomp down an adjacent corridor.

“What the hell is this?” A taller man with dirty blonde hair and the unknown accent glares down at Carlos.

Carlos meets his gaze, disappointed to encounter another vampire so young, so tenuously in control of his instincts. He squares his shoulders and hardens his gaze. “Stand down, young one.” He locks his eyes to the taller vampire, raising a hand to emphasize his warning. “You won’t win if you try.”

The blue-eyed vampire seems to consider the gravity of Carlos’ words before something in Carlos’ face convinces him to yield. Carlos nods his approval before turning back to focus on George. The Briton has the other vampire on his back, nearly pinned against the floor with one hand as he brandishes a jagged wooden board in the other. Carlos’ face falls with horror as he draws a purposeful breath.

“Stop that!” A new voice bellows, filling the cavern and stunning everyone near motionless. “For goodness sake, stop that right now!”

Carlos turns toward the new arrival and his face brightens with a long forgotten memory. Sebastian wears his hair differently these days – hell, so does Carlos – but time has done nothing to diminish the generous mischief that always danced in his eyes. The older vampire comes to a stop as their gazes connect and fond recognition warms his face. Carlos never doubted that he would indeed see Sebastian again but finding him in an Austrian cave filled with spoils of war never even crossed his mind.

Carlos nods at the elder vampire, reciting the customary greeting. “Sebastian Vettel, direct of Toto Wolff.”

Sebastian bends at the waist in a half-bow so reminiscent of his sire. “Carlos Sainz, also direct of Toto Wolff.”

Carlos returns the half-bow on instinct. At least, Toto taught both him and Sebastian some manners after their respective transformations.

“Wait…” The Monegasque’s voice sounds over Carlos’ shoulder. “You two know each other…?”

Sebastian sighs in vague annoyance, turning his gaze towards the floor. “Yes, Charles – we have for centuries.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Come on, get up off the floor. And you,” he motions at George. “Put that board down. You’re not a barbarian.” He turns back to Carlos with another disappointed shake of his head. “There is so much about this current generation that I don’t understand.”

Carlos offers a weak shrug. “War makes of man what it will.”

“Since when did you get so poetic?”

Carlos arches an indignant brow. “Since when did you turn progenies and teach them so little manners?”

A familiar subversive edge lifts the corner of Sebastian’s mouth as he chuckles softly. “Are you going to rat me out to Toto, hmm? You’ll forgive me if there’s not a lot of time to teach bowing and scraping in the middle of the biggest global conflict the world has ever seen.”

Carlos’ mouth pinches to a tight line even though he can’t deny the validity of the statement. He hasn’t exactly done the best job of educating George on vampiric customs, either – but for the moment, they have bigger problems to solve.

He glances over to see George, now standing and brushing dirt off his uniform, but the tense set of his shoulders still remains. The shorter Monegasque – Charles – stands near the sandy-blonde haired vampire as they glare at Sebastian with open uncertainty.

“We can save the bowing and scraping for later,” Carlos agrees at length, scanning around the cavern. “What are you doing with all these war spoils?”

Sebastian glances around, seemingly bored. “They certainly don’t belong in the hands of the defeated. Such treasures are not to be ransomed or bartered.”

“Then, what are you doing with them?”

“I think Charles already told you, no?” Sebastian glances over at his progeny. “Just because these cultural riches don’t deserve to be bargained by the losing side doesn’t mean that they should fade into obscurity.”

“So, then you’re saving them,” Carlos ventures. “Until the Allied forces arrive to properly see to their rightful return.”

Sebastian’s face darkens. “Mortals made this mess of the world. How can they possibly be trusted to set it fully to rights?”

Carlos’ eyes widen. “You can’t interfere with that. You know we can’t!” He motions around at all the boxes and crates. “All this here needs to run its natural course – looting it from the looters just makes you…” he pauses as words escape him. “Well, it just makes you-”

“A liberator?”

“No,” Carlos shakes his head. “I was trying to think of the word, but I could only come up with looter. Which isn’t wrong, just redundant.”

The older vampire takes a step forward, shrugging his shoulders. “A looter just takes advantage of the distractions of war. But this conflict is coming to an end. The Nazis are on the run… err, how does the saying go? Without the head of the snake, the body dies?” He pauses, surveying out over the vast collection. “And this? All of this…” He spreads his arms wide to encompass it all. “Deserves to be free among the living world.”

“Then, we’ll wait with you,” Carlos says, stepping up to Sebastian’s side. “Until the Allied Forces break the final lines and peace is declared. Because yes, each nation deserves to have their heritage returned.”

Sebastian’s face darkens with memories that someone the age of his physical appearance shouldn’t possess. “But do the nations truly deserve it? Do they truly understand the blood and sacrifice behind so many of these so-called relics? How could they possibly…” He reaches a hand out, brushing the edge of a gold gilded cross that protrudes from a crate. “They gloss over history’s ugliness to only see the beauty…”

Carlos shakes his head, almost sadly. “Cynicism doesn’t suit you, Sebastian.”

“‘Cynicism’, he says,” Sebastian repeats with a shake of his head as he rounds another crate. “How little you truly understand, Carlos… and here, I thought Toto had done a better job.”

“He gave us both our starts, but he doesn’t dictate how this ends.” Carlos takes another step, keeping Sebastian in close range. “So, we can just wait together… to see how this ends…”

Sebastian continues to leisurely stroll. “I’m afraid that the cave is a bit too crowded for that. And we have much to do.”

Carlos narrows his gaze warily as he steps forward, and a faint scent hits his nose. Something metallic, something faintly sulfuric… the telltale scent of oxidized silver plating. Another step forward brings more of the pungent scent to his nose, and he doesn’t dare look at the crate in question. If he can smell it, then Sebastian does, too, and drawing more attention to it won’t help him. His eyes meet Sebastian’s, and he instantly tenses as the knowledge sinks in.

Carlos wets his top lip. “So, then we have an impasse… no?”

“Yes, an impasse.” Sebastian confirms, shoving both his hands in his pockets. “And with Charles and Max, we outnumber you - and we were here first.”

George growls low in his throat. “If you think we’re leaving, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

Charles hisses softly. “And you really think you can win against the three of us?”

George shakes his head. “I would have had you earlier were it not -”

Carlos doesn’t listen to the rest as he makes a decision and lunges forward. The element of surprise stays on his side against the elder vampire as he seizes him and hurtles him towards the crate of silver-plated treasures. Wood boards splinter as Sebastian crashes through it and a waterfall of ancient crusader coins tumble out. Sizzling smoke rises from the crate along with Sebastian’s agonized cries as the silver burns on contact.

“Perdóname, Sebastian.” Carlos whispers as Charles and the sandy-blonde haired vampire rush over towards him. “You have two choices,” Carlos says, fixing them with a hard stare. “Help him or fight me - only one of these you will succeed at.”

Charles’ mouth curls to a sneer despite the fearful concern in his eyes. “Tu es un connard!” He then cries in furious French, baring his fangs even as he rushes over to the crate to help. “If you weren’t already dead-”

“Yes, I understand,” Carlos deadpans, feeling little remorse as the two young vampires flank Sebastian and pull him - still smoking - free from the crate. Mercifully, he appears to have passed out from the pain, and truly, Carlos doesn’t envy him. Those wounds will take time to heal, but they will heal - in retrospect, it’s rather like the war-torn world above him. With peace will come healing. He nods towards the tunnel from which Sebastian entered. “Take him to Toto - once Sebastian wakes up, he’ll know how.”

The taller vampire scowls at him with an icy look. “You’re a right prick, you know that, mate?””

Carlos’ face sinks under the weight of five centuries worth of existence. “Live long enough, and you’ll make the hard decisions, too, which no one will ever thank you for.” Again, he nods towards the tunnel. “He’ll do better without the scent of silver in the air, now go. And don’t come back.”

A look of helpless, conflicted anger passes between the two young vampires before they heed Carlos’ words. With Sebastian braced between them, burned arms slung across their shoulders, they shuffle towards the mouth of the tunnel and disappear into the darkness.

Only then does Carlos allow himself to relax and he catches George’s gaze. His progeny regards him with dark, suspicious curiosity as if his whole fundamental understanding of Carlos has shifted. And perhaps it has. It will do the younger vampire good to learn that one doesn’t live an immortal life without getting one’s hands dirty. Or turning on a centuries’ old friend to safeguard humanity’s legacy.

At length, George shakes his head slowly. “Crikey, that… I didn’t know silver could do that.” He gives Carlos a wide berth as he gingerly steps closer to the damaged crate and spilled pile of silver coins bearing the cross of the Crusades.

Carlos gave an answering, almost surprised shake of his head. “Silver causes burns outright, but holy silver? It’s even more harmful.”

George looks back at him carefully. “Of all the crates here, how… how did you know that specific one had silver in it?”

Blinking up from the crate, Carlos sweeps his gaze around the room. “There is much that you still have to learn, but first, we should see about securing this cave. We don’t know when the Allies will finally get here, and we can’t afford to have someone else pick up where Sebastian left off.”

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