Who Let The Vamps out?

Micka opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. He expected to hear a loud bang, but all he heard was an empty echo inside the gun. He frowned, his brows pulling together in confusion as he tried pulling the trigger again.

Nothing.

“Hey, I think your dumb gun is broken,” Micka muttered, hitting the magazine against his palm before placing the muzzle back against his head to pull the trigger again. Noah winced each time he did. “You own a building worth a billion dollars but you can’t buy yourself a proper gun?”

Annoyed, he placed the gun back on the table. “I’m going to need another gun,” he stated, giving out his hand.

Diego sat there, licking his lips that curved into a grin, looking at Micka in amusement. His gaze was so intense that it felt like the distance between them reduced to zero as if they were the only two standing in the room, face-to-face. Micka looked around him, wondering if someone was standing behind him, but there was no one. Diego’s piercing gaze was staring at Micka, and only him.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me all day?” he asked, puzzled. “I’m trying to kill myself here.”

“The gun was never loaded, guapo.”

“Who carries a bulletless gun?” Micka scowled.

“Me,” Diego smiled.

Diego had done this before on multiple occasions. He’s had numerous humans and creatures arrive at his doorsteps for his blood, but he’s rarely given any, and never to a human being.

“Wait, so all of this was a trick? What about the blood? I can’t waste any more time, Astrid will-”

“I’ll give you my blood.”

Everyone’s eyes widened at Diego’s decision.

“Diego-” Owen began, but Tig quickly stopped him. He shook his head and Owen frowned, backing down.

“Get me a jar,” Diego ordered in a husky voice. One of the omegas quickly left the room and came back with a glass jar, placing it on the desk.

“Micka, was it?”

The deep, raspy voice that spoke his name in an accent sounded strangely melodic, catching Micka’s attention, and the agreeable trace of huskiness resonated in his ears. Micka hated to admit but he that it was charming.

Micka then realized that he hadn’t replied and quickly answered, hoping that Diego hadn’t noticed him staring. But Diego noticed everything, smiling like he knew what kind of effect he had on Micka.

“Yeah.”

“Be a good boy and hold the jar for me.”

Micka gagged.

Good boy? He fought back the sudden urge to punch the alpha, not wanting to screw up his chance of saving Astrid. He took in a small breath and picked up the jar.

“C’mon, don’t be shy. I won’t bite,” Diego grinned, revealing his white fangs. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

Diego was a natural flirt, no doubt about it. Micka grimaced but took a step closer towards him. He watched as Kova took out a silver dagger, unsheathing the cover and revealing a beautiful, charcoal metal. Micka flinched at the sight of it as if he were scared that Diego would stab him with it.

Diego’s dark eyes flickered towards him.

“I’ll give you my blood if you swear to return the favor one day.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and find out. A human like you could come in handy one day.”

Micka wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment, but he looked over towards Noah who was nervous. He could tell that the 20 minutes Aleksei had given them was ticking.

He wasn’t sure if Aleksei’s last words were a threat or if he was bluffing, but he wasn’t going to take the risk to find out.

“Fine,” Micka mumbled. I’ll probably never see this guy again anyway, he thought to himself. “We have a deal.”

“Perfecto. If you break your promise to me, pup,” Diego murmured, leaning towards him with a threatening grin and piercing eyes. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Micka shivered, feeling like he had just made a deal with the devil.

Diego placed his hand above the jar and slit the tip of the dagger down his palm. Dark red blood immediately oozed out and Micka clenched his jaw, squeamish at the sight. He tried to look away as naturally as he could so that Diego wouldn’t suspect his weak stomach.

“Hold it with two hands, guapo, every ounce is precious,” Diego mused, amused by Micka’s reaction.

Tough boy on the out, soft on the in.

Micka swallowed thickly, plastering his other hand on the jar. It slowly started to fill and he could feel the warmth of the blood heat the glass, heat rising above as if it had been boiled.

Diego studied Micka’s pale face that was starting to turn green. Strangely, he was feeling generous, and decided to distract him.

“You look cuter upfront,” Diego said, telling the truth.

“Just hurry up,” Micka grumbled, feeling sick. ”Please.”

“Beg a little harder and I might think about it,” Diego said, biting his lip and looking at Micka’s body.

′He’s fit for a human.′

“Listen here, matcho man,” snarled Micka, forgetting about the blood as irritation took over. “Do you this is a joke to you? You think I can’t beat you up? You...” Micka rambled on about how he was going to beat Diego up. “I will crawl over this desk and-”

“Finished,” he beamed, pulling away and taking the handkerchief given by one of his men, pressing it against his palm.

Micka blinked in surprise, but when he looked down, ⅓ of the jar was already filled with piping alpha blood.

“Oh,” he murmured, watching an omega close the lid before handing it back to him.

“Owen, Tig, take these two back safely to their vehicle,” Diego ordered.

“What about the bloodsucker?!”

“He didn’t come here to wage a war, there’s no reason for us to start one,” he grunted. Behind the tattoos and cocky grin, Diego was a true Alpha and leader. He never let his emotions get in the way of his decisions and made sure that the ones he took always played in favor of his pack.

They cuffed Noah’s and Micka’s hands behind their back, but before Tig put a sack over Micka’s head, Micka glanced towards Diego’s bloody handkerchief.

“Make sure to disinfect your cut,” he muttered hoarsely.

Micka’s mother was a nurse and would always tell him to take care of the smallest injuries. Growing up in a medical household, he picked up on his parents’ habits.

Diego raised his brows at the softened tone, leaning back in his chair. His eyes never left Micka’s.

“I’ll see you around, pup.”

“Let’s hope not,” Micka snorted, which only made Diego’s smile widen.

Tig put a sack over Micka’s head, darkness blinding his eyesight. Owen and Tig carried the boys away, and once the door closed behind them, Diego couldn’t help but chuckle, turning his chair towards the window and looking at the vast forest below him.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Nora murmured, handing him the files for his next meeting.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just that it’s been a while since a human told me to take care of a mild injury,” Diego murmured, throwing the handkerchief into a trash can.

The cut on his palm had already healed and the only trace left of its existence was a brown scar.

***

Noah, Micka, and Aleksei went to the hospital, the first two running to Astrid’s room while Aleksei took his time.

When they opened the door, they saw Issa and Roman near her bedside. Astrid looked a ghostly pale, her face covered in beads of sweat and her lips a sickly blue.

“We have the cure,” Micka blurted. Roman saw the jar and raised his brows his brows in surprise. He didn’t think that they’d manage to get it. “What do we do now?”

“She has to drink it,” he informed them. Noah helped Astrid sit up, apologizing as she winced in pain.

“Here, we brought you something,” Micka murmured, sitting beside her and opening the jar.

“What is it?” she mumbled in a raspy voice, struggling to keep her eyes open, let alone focus on what was in front of her.

“Uh, hot chocolate,” Micka lied.

Before she could ask further questions, he placed the tip of the jar against her lips and gently tilted her head back. Astrid started drinking but pulled away from the metallic taste.

“It’s good for you, it’ll help the pain,” he urged. Astrid didn’t know what she was drinking or how it was going to help, but when she heard the desperate tone in Micka’s voice, she knew she had to trust him.

She held her breath and drank the rest of it before pulling away, coughing.

“It’s absolutely disgusting,” she said, her face scrunching from the aftertaste.

Micka smiled, helping her lie back down. He brushed away the hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead, looking at her pale skin.

“And you look absolutely horrendous,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over Astrid’s cheek. Astrid managed to roll her eyes, but she searched for Micka’s hand, and when she finally found it, she held onto it as tightly as she could.

His presence felt strangely reassuring and all she could think about when she was lying in bed was Micka.

“Fuck you,” she whispered, finally letting her heavy lids close. Micka held onto her hand and smiled.

“Well, she’s back,” he chuckled shortly.

“She’ll be okay,” Roman promised.

Micka nodded silently.

“Micka, are you crying?” Issa gasped. He craned his neck before tugging on Roman’s shirt. “Roman, I think he’s crying.”

“I’m not!” Micka snapped, quickly rubbing his eyes.

“Your eyes are all watery!” Issa grinned. “Micka’s a big softie! I can’t wait to tell Astrid-”

“Say that again, I dare you,” he hissed. Issa pouted and Micka sighed, turning back towards Astrid.

A mischievous smile perked on Issa’s lips. “Softie,” he whispered.

Issa shrieked when Micka abruptly got up, chasing him around the room.

“COME BACK HERE, MIDGET!”

The room filled with Micka’s vulgar shouts, Issa’s loud screams, and Noah’s undying laughter while Roman tried to calm them down for Astrid’s sake.

Aleksei looked at the chaos and sighed heavily, shaking his head at the nonsense.

But for some reason, he found himself smiling with them.

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