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weskennedyLeon S. Kennedy hadn’t been a vampire for very long.
He was hardly a master of the intricacies of his nature, but he’d been relatively proud of himself for managing not to feed on a single human. Animals and synthetic blood had worked well enough, and if he was being honest, the act of feeding was still something that thoroughly repulsed him. Feasting on anything other than cows, chickens and pigs (he really missed human food) just wasn’t his style.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t. After the absolute hell that broke loose in Raccoon City and the neighboring Arklay mountains, nothing was off the table… supernaturally speaking. He shouldn’t have been surprised that vampires existed, and he supposed it also shouldn’t have shocked him to find out that the woman he’d spent his last night as a human with was one of them. Leon definitely hadn’t planned for Ada to turn him, though.
“It was for your own good,” she’d breathed, and Leon could see the tender sincerity in her eyes. He would have died anyway. She didn’t want to lose him. Leon understood; it felt good to be wanted in the way Ada wanted him, wanted him to live… even if it meant having to die first. He’d never resent her; maybe if he hadn’t felt so guilty for getting a second chance, he could enjoy it as the gift that he was certain it should feel like. The circumstances (and sporadic reunions) hadn’t really given her a chance to teach him much about being a vampire, so he’d been trying to make do as best he could.
He closed his eyes, sighing heavily… a human habit he’d never really kicked. None of this introspection was helping his current hunger predicament. He didn’t like feeding on people; it felt too intimate for something that would be only a casual encounter, and frankly, he didn’t really get the hype behind them anyway. Some vampires went crazy at the smell of human blood, but to Leon, it smelled just as generally mundane as the lab-made stuff. It’s just sustenance, nothing more.
One perk of being a vampire was that things were quieter at night. Vampires were still keen on making themselves scarce (for the most part) and humans were quick to turn in for the night because of the national panic around potential biohazard breakouts. He’d liked that it was easier to be alone now, to excuse himself from the social gatherings his coworkers would often try and infringe upon him; he’d eagerly used his sliver of “freedom” (if you could call it that) the U.S. government afforded him to request night shifts and operations, which they generously gave him. He knew it was only because everybody else hated working nights. He also knew that if they’d found out about what he was, he never would’ve left that cold cell room they’d kept him in for three days without food when they’d found him.
The local gas station had been out of his favorite blood type, but he’d supposed it didn’t matter much. Leon thumbed through the small bills in his wallet to pay. “Can I use your-” Microwave. To heat it up?
The clerk tapped the taped sign on the microwave behind the counter that read OUT OF ORDER, their eyes glued to a small portable television; more news broadcasts. God, was he sick of them. Leon rolled his eyes. “Great.” He inhaled through his nose to heave a sigh and felt his whole body prickle.
What was that smell?
A quick glance around the small gas station told him it was nothing here. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose again. It was close, and it was incredible. He placed the cash on the counter for the bottle of blood, turned on his heel, and left without his purchase. “Keep it!” Leon waved a hand dismissively behind him as the cashier shouted after him. He had to find out what that was! Nothing had ever smelled so good to him in his life!
… Or death.
He jogged out of the gas station and looked around. The streets weren’t empty; there were small groups of humans walking about, music playing from a bistro across the street… had it really been a-
A figure exited the dimly-lit coffeeshop nearly a block down from him. Leon could see him as clearly as if he was standing two feet in front of him. He was tall, in a long wool coat that swayed with each graceful movement of his feet. Leather gloves that Leon could smell the scent of covered his hands that held a briefcase, and the product that he’d used to gel his blonde hair back so immaculately had a distinct, heady scent to it too. He hadn’t seen his face, but he knew he was handsome, exerting a kind of confidence in every move that Leon couldn’t help but be drawn to. It reminded him of the way Ada always carried herself.
His feet moved independent from his will, not even realizing that he had begun to pursue this mysterious person. The smell had to be him, didn’t it? Leon stopped in his tracks. If it had been him, that meant he’d wanted to feed from a human being. He let out a shaky breath; this wasn’t a revelation that came easily to him. What was he supposed to do? The words of his maker sighed against the back of his neck, “You have to feed. The quicker you realize that, the easier it becomes.” Leon let out a soft groan. Alright, he’d had the revelation. How was he feeling even worse?
He sniffed the air again and proceeded to track the scent.
Maybe he has a dead squirrel in his bag or something. Maybe it’s not him. Small chance of a tantalizing animal nearby? Or, you know when you’re at a grocery store, and you can’t help but follow the same person around and you feel like you’re stalking them, but you really aren’t? You obviously aren’t!
He walked under a street lamp, lit up by warmth and dangerous red neon from a crowded bar and offered a glance back to Leon’s position. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes despite the darkness outside, but Leon felt them on him regardless and it made his whole body surge with heat. A playful smirk invited the presence of a dimple at the corner of his mouth and Leon let out a shaky exhale. Definitely not a ‘Back off, creep’.
Was he encouraging him?!
Leon’s mouth hung agape, his space-out session harshly interrupted by the unpleasant feeling of his feeder fangs jutting out and stabbing uncomfortably against his lip. This was turning him on. Ice cold shame shot down his spine and collided with the magmatic sensation of the fullest extent of his hunger.
As a species, vampires were always in relentless pursuit of heat. Warmth. Anything that could stir that feeling in their cold, dead hearts warranted immediate attention. Leon swore he’d wanted to resist it but kept moving anyway, trying to ignore the hunger in his belly and the desire between his legs. The fact that the stranger encouraged his lust - whether it be carnal or sexual - only made things worse.
His hunt led him through the city, keeping a respectable distance (Leon briefly wondered if one could respectably stalk someone). He slowed to a halt in favor of taking another deep breath of the smell, closing his eyes in bliss as it wove its way through his senses. When he opened his eyes, he looked around. His object of pursuit had disappeared. No, no, no…
Leon huffed, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath through his nose and willing all of the world’s distractions to leave him. Come on, senses. The one thing this stupid curse is good for, and I can’t even- No.
Oh!
There it was again!
He took a sharp turn down an alleyway, behind the bustling buildings and out into the mouth of a field that led into some kind of ambiguously-florally-dense wooded area. It seemed like entirely too rural of a setting for the person he’d been following, but his heart pounded with hope. Maybe it hadn’t been him. Maybe it had been some kind of animal he could guilt-free eat for dinner after all! He allowed himself a small bit of optimism as he broke off into a jog towards the scent trail, eager to find his dinner and put these complicated feelings behind him.
It was like coming across a free filet mignon for dinner when you were planning on having stale cereal!
He had to have been pacing around the area for at least twenty minutes. Finally, his sharp eyes landed on a feral creature, some kind of dog. A wolf? He supposed it wasn’t uncommon in some nondescript United States rural town. His breathing stuttered; it had gorgeous eyes. Red like the blood he craved, like the life force that sustained him. Red like fire on a dark, black night. The trees whistled and swayed as they stared one another down. It was a shame to kill it. Maybe he could get away with feeding and letting it live. It looked like a big enough beast… he told himself to know restraint. You’re better than your hunger. The wolf seemed to have eyed him before it took off into a sprint. Leon gave chase, determined not to lose it like he had with that human.
“Ugh, come on, just a quick bite!” Leon huffed (as if it could understand!), watching as it stopped its running and turned towards him, shook its uniquely-colored coat and chuffed indignantly. He had to give this dog credit; it was sure giving him a run for his money. It stared him down, like it was ready to confront Leon. It’s like it knew how to evade vampires or something!
Any remaining distance between them had been immediately closed by the vampire. The old dog was fast, but not fast enough. Leon managed to fake it out, grasping it by the thick scruff of its neck and baring his fangs, yanking it towards his mouth. Just a quick bite, and-
Leon yelped as he felt a strong hand on the scruff of his neck.
Wait. What? Wolves didn’t have-
He soared through the air, landing harshly on his upper back with a thud; Leon wheezed. How the hell did he get the wind knocked out of him if he was a vampire?! When he’d tried to stand up, he collided with the ground again, like a bouncing ball, knocked down by a seemingly-invisible force. He scampered to his feet, letting his reflexes guide him in the direction of the scent and motion and slammed the beast to the ground. He gasped as he felt a human hand pinch just under his cheekbones, rendering him unable to bite down. A trick people used to keep puppies from biting them. Leon hadn’t anticipated its effectiveness for also thwarting vampires.
A human hand-?!
Staring up at him was, in fact… well… if Leon ever let himself eat healthily, he would’ve been able to blush. The same red eyes that he’d seen in the wolf stared up at him, piercing and intense, sharp teeth still bared in a threatening sneer as a naked, plush, very human chest steadily moved with each measured breath. Whatever he was, he wasn’t just some animal. Leon had broken what little bit of personal code he’d managed to scrape together as a murderous creature of the night.
“Oh no. No, no, no-!” He may have been belly up, but Leon was the one completely at his mercy. He hadn’t spoken a word. Sharp nails pressed into his throat and it didn’t take the vampire very long to surmise that this creature - or human, whatever he may be - was just as capable of killing him as he was. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He panted, putting his hands up in surrender. His voice came out distorted due to the pressure on his cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, I swear I had no idea you were human! I don’t hunt humans, or f-feed off of them…” He couldn’t stop staring at his eyes.
His pupils, nearly slitted, were trained on Leon’s own. Assessing him. Still hadn’t spoken. Could he speak at all? Leon felt his wrist pivot, tilting the vampire’s face in his grasp as though to get a good look at him. Finally, he wrinkled his nose and let out a distasteful-sounding chuff as he flicked his wrist, dismissing Leon from the lethal grasp. “Yes, yes, you’ve made that clear.” He watched as Leon landed in front of him on his rear with a grunt. “And frankly, it would matter very little to me if you did.” Leon backed away, finally getting a good look at the person he’d attacked. Attacked! He felt awful!
Well… he felt awful at first. He swallowed thickly, feeling that icy-hot warmth creeping through his dead nervous system. The person sitting opposite him was completely nude; pale skin dusted sporadically by surprisingly dense blonde hair covered his body, matching that of the hair on his head. Leon assumed it had once been nicely slicked back, but now lay a bit tousled after their… confrontation. His eyes widened as he’d realized that this was the person he’d been following! It had been him that smelled so good!
“And, as I’m sure even the likes of your keen vampire senses have deduced, I am not human.” His tone of voice contained no anger, rather, it sounded like he was… bored. The red of his eyes now looked much less lethal, pillowed by long blonde eyelashes like a setting sun during a forest fire. Leon had been so awestruck by his handsomeness that he hadn’t noticed his feeder fangs popping out again, pushing against his lips and exposing his bottom gums in a… less than flattering way. Ada had once teasingly told him it made him look like a bulldog. The same smirk he’d been teased with earlier returned to the other supernatural’s face. Mildly amused. At Leon’s expense, no doubt. It only made the feelings of starvation churn louder within him. He was right back where he started: starving and turned on.
“Right, yeah that’s… obvious now.” Leon cleared his throat, trying to tuck his fangs back into his dry mouth. The yellow moon above them casted a warm glow upon the one before him; perfect lighting to accommodate Leon’s shameless staring. “I’m sorry again. I had no idea that things-” Those pupils pinned dangerously again, followed by an arch of the brow. Not things! “Er, not things. Other… creatures…” Another distasteful nose wrinkle, but it was better than that look in his eye. “Other than vampires existed. Out in the world.” He gestured flippantly and swallowed thickly, trying to keep his eyes from raking over his body. “I wouldn’t’ve… jumped you like that if I’d known that.”
The mysterious shifter only offered an amused snort in response. “A word of advice...” He hummed, watching Leon’s nostrils flare as he took a deep breath in through his nose to heave a heavy sigh. “You ought to stay well-fed. It’s bad practice for a vampire to starve himself. It typically leads to…” he paused, the dimple teasing at the corner of his mouth again, “... unsavory, impulsive decisions. That could have gotten you killed.” He finished with a purse of his lips, adjusting his hips with another flippant sigh. As in, I would have killed you. He was clearly strong, but such strength was hidden behind thick deposits of fat held on his breasts, stomach and hips. If Leon had to guess, he’d say there was likely more muscle in his legs and back specifically. Leon licked his lips at the thick bush concealing his privates.
“Were your manners this bad as a human, or is that a newfound trait of vampirism I’m unfamiliar with?” He drawled, tilting his head to the side and arching his brow. He’d tried to hide it, but Leon swore he saw a bit of a grin tug at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, hah, yeah, I mean, no. My name’s Leon. And you are?”
Those red eyes held mischief in them. Leon’s stomach fluttered as they narrowed at him playfully, as if he was debating on answering.
“You will call me Wesker.” He replied, though his tone held little actual authority in it. Leon supposed it didn’t need to; he was planning on obeying anyway.
“Oh, will I?” Leon quipped with a half smirk of his own. He watched Wesker’s brows raise, a pleased grin sliding onto his face. He liked his attitude. It made Leon’s heart leap for reasons unknown.
“It would be preferable to human or thing.” Wesker raised a brow and narrowed his eyes, testing to see if Leon would challenge him again. Leon gave a sheepish grin and an understanding nod. Fair enough. He must’ve voiced it, for the shifter gave a satisfied hum. “So, Leon… why, pray tell, are you running around chasing squirrels and werewolves for dinner instead of the much more sensible options available to you?” Now it was Leon’s turn to raise his eyebrows.
“I don’t… like feeding on people. My maker said that I’d just get over it and become fine with it, but it’s been a few months now and I still can’t stomach the idea of…” He swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “When I was human, I didn’t even like sending my wrong food orders back to the kitchen.” He chuckled, hearing Wesker let out a soft snort, “Don’t think I’m cut out for being some kind of…domineering, top of the food chain type.” Shrugging his shoulders, he watched the werewolf’s eyes go to his feeder fangs that still, embarrassingly, were out.
“That is abundantly clear. You hold your own well enough in a fight… though you are quite the talent at making your desire apparent.”
Leon had tried to keep eye contact, he really had. But when he saw those large thighs move again out of the corner of his eye, they had his undivided attention. The femoral artery whispered to him, the veins underneath Wesker’s pale skin on those fatty, pliable legs calling to him like nothing he’d ever felt before. Wesker repositioned himself to sit with one leg stretched out before him, the other slightly hiked up, resting his elbow on the drawn-up knee. His breasts and the rolls on his stomach moved with the gesture, and Leon’s eyes moved further down to the tip of his cock that exposed itself from between his labia. He was stunning, reminding Leon of the marble nude statues that decorated elaborate buildings overseas. As if remembering himself, his eyes shot back up to Wesker’s, who was waiting for him to finish his ogling with an amused purse of his lips.
“Sorry,” Leon said again, clearing his throat and moving to get up. “Anyway, I should probably get out of your…” he couldn’t help the grin at his own impending joke, “... fur.” Wesker rolled his eyes and gave a disgusted kind of sound that told Leon he was more amused by it than truly offended.
“In pursuit of what? Any wildlife out here has been thoroughly frightened off by our little scuffle.” The vampire pressed his lips in a flat line and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. God dammit. He was right. “And you must feed.” He leaned forward, swiping his thumb over the skin underneath Leon’s ear, “Because this,” collecting a bit of blood that had begun trailing down from his ear canal. The bleeds, they were called. When vampires were starting to get severely weak, specifically from starvation or lack of sleep. “… Is not good.” He watched dumbly as the werewolf sampled his blood from his thumb with a distasteful scowl. “And it must be on something other than a sewer rat. Or that synthetic garbage humans are pitching to your kind as of late.”
“Nobody’s pitching anything to me, drinking synthetic blood is the right thing to do.” Leon snapped. “Like I said, I don’t want to feed on-” His nostrils flared, blue irises being swallowed by blown, black pupils.
Wesker had reached beside himself, found a jagged piece of wood and gashed the middle of his inner forearm with it, giving little more than a mildly-inconvenienced-sounding grunt. Leon watched the blood slowly seep from the wound, dark red and everything he wanted. He was keenly unaware of the amused expression on the now-injured party’s face as he watched the vampire lean closer to the cut, creeping to it like a predator about to strike. Wesker felt his skin prickle with gooseflesh at the power he held over this young vampire. Leon lost himself momentarily to his instinct, lunging at the delicious blood, his lips inches from his precious life force before he was abruptly stopped in his tracks by Wesker’s free hand grasping the erection in Leon’s jeans. His smile grew.
“This indicates otherwise.” He purred, his hot breath washing over Leon’s scalp. He shuddered, letting out a shaky gasp. His breath was so warm, his hand on him was so warm. Hot, hot, hot! Leon could smell the heat coming from his blood, his eyes fluttering as he let out an embarrassing sound. And God, the heat from between his legs! He didn’t know what he was enjoying more; even if he hadn’t gotten to taste Wesker’s amazing-smelling blood - talk about a delicious cut of meat! - this would have been enough to coast on for the next six months, he was sure of it.
Leon swallowed thickly, bracing himself on his palms as he was on his hands and knees before the werewolf, nearly crawling over his lap sideways. They were both on the ground, and perhaps Leon would have thought, before tonight, that a werewolf wouldn’t have stood a chance against a vampire, but he’d learned quickly that this werewolf was special. And, shifting talent aside, also seemed to have a knack for making himself deceptively imposing. An excited chill shot up his spinal cord.
“N-not without your permission, I promise,” he breathed, feeling a chuff of hot air blast against his scalp again. More amusement. His clothed cock throbbed in the werewolf’s grasp. Wesker gave an amused hum in response, as if that sentiment was already obvious to him. It had impressed him that Leon was able to remember himself in the face of food; typically, vampires were driven solely by their hunger. Interesting.
“How considerate.” His tone indicated slight surprise, like it had been genuine praise. Leon felt his toes curl in his shoes. “Now eat. You’ll be in quite a sorry state by dawn if you neglect yourself any further.” With one last cautious glance upwards into Wesker’s red eyes, his hands came up and grasped either sides of the werewolf’s arm in favor of holding himself up. “And, as we’ve established, I am not human, so your weary conscience can rest.” A wry quip at his expense. He could feel Wesker’s eyes on him as he nursed, feel his pulse and his breathing and… he let out a low moan, unable to keep his eyes open as he felt precum stain his underwear. Wesker rolled his palm against his hard cock, keeping him in place with much gentler force. Leon didn’t even need to rut his hips; his warm palm felt heavenly, even though his pants.
The vampire made sure to eat gently, striving not to make a mess, his tongue sweeping attentively around the underside of his arm to keep any blood from running down it. His good work was met with another generous fondling of his bulge. A colorful flush spread over Leon’s face as his life force entered him and nourished him. He wasn’t sure if human blood had ever been able to satisfy him like this, let alone so quickly or abundantly. Wesker snorted. More stroking of his shaft through his jeans elicited a guttural growl from the starved (in more ways than one, he imagined) beast in his lap. Baby bats. He wasn’t going to tell this one he’d never let anyone feed off of him before; in fact, any attempts at doing so always guaranteed the enemy vampire’s demise. His thumb rubbed at the tip of his cock in slow, circular motions. He recognized the scent of this vampire, of the supernatural blood that reanimated him, and felt himself smirk.
Oh, Ada… taking in sad little puppies now, hmm?
“Okay, okay,” Leon gasped, werewolf blood still gurgling in the back of his throat as he pulled off, panting raggedly and swallowing. His crotch was sticky with release. His tongue slid over his lips as his eyes fluttered, willing them to focus. Coming down from a feeding and a sexual high hadn’t been something he’d experienced before. He supposed it wasn’t his fault that this vaguely rude and delicious werewolf hadn’t made it easy on him to control either impulse.
“Ah, returning to the land of the living, are we?” Wesker cooed with one last caress of his privates, and Leon could only let out a flustered chuckle. He sat back on his rear, taking the hem of his own t-shirt in his hand and ripping a strip of it off. Wesker watched him with an inquisitive frown.
“Here, for your…” Leon started, moving to bind the puncture wounds his fangs left in his skin. The werewolf allowed it, feeling heat rising at the back of his own neck. He’d waited for Leon to offer him some of his own blood to heal him, but he must not have known about his blood’s ability to mend non-vampires. Interesting. “And thank you. Seriously. I really… did need that,” he heaved a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just… still feel so new to everything. Doesn’t seem like I’ll ever get used to it,” he breathed, licking his lips. Wesker raised a brow.
“Think nothing of it.” He replied mildly. Wesker would be healed by tomorrow morning anyway with his own impressive regenerative abilities. “I imagine it’s difficult to grasp the concept of life after death.” He hadn’t known why he’d said it; he was hardly interested in coddling this vampire, and emotional warmth was hardly a desirable trait to him.
Leon nodded, his shoulders sagging as he thumbed at a smooth rock at his feet. “After what happened in Racoon City, I… can’t say I wanted to live all that badly even when I was human.” It tumbled out before he could stop himself. Wesker said nothing, but Leon had a feeling he was perceptive enough to figure out that Leon had been implying he was one of the few “survivors”... whatever that had meant now with his vampirism as a part of the equation.
“I wanted to help people. I don’t want to see them as… dinner.” He swallowed thickly, running his tongue over his mouth and swiping a hand over it. Some of Wesker’s blood lightly stained the side of his hand. The feeling of shame returned. Leon ran a thumb over it thoughtfully. “Now everything’s… upside down,” the werewolf had only heard him due to keen senses of his own. “And I dunno what to make of anything anymore.” He sighed again. It amused Wesker that he still feigned such human habits. Most vampires he’d met had been delighted to be turned. This marked Leon as the second melancholy bloodsucker he’d known. He remembered Ada telling him, resolutely, that she would never turn someone, never wanting to impart the curse of vampirism to another. Had she changed? Wesker sighed as if the thought had bored him.
“The existence of supernaturals is still relatively unknown. I imagine there is much still to accomplish, even for a vampire. I’m assuming the top brass of our good nation are none the wiser to your condition?” Leon shook his head, making Wesker chuckle. They couldn’t even identify a baby vampire! Things must have really gone downhill since Umbrella’s collapse. The thought made him grin. “We aren’t human, that is fact. But it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a miserable existence.” He paused, watching as Leon perked up; he was going to say something more, but decided against it. He felt his black heart pound in his chest at the vampire’s hopeful expression.
“... You’re just a pup. You’ll grow into your fangs,” Wesker grunted, standing himself up and hoisting Leon up effortlessly by his bicep. It reminded the vampire of how wolves carried those smaller than them. “And when you do, you’ll find your purpose.” Leon frowned, but nodded his head; he’d said it like it was just a simple fact of life. Wesker ran a hand through his hair, fixing it back to its perfectly-gelled state and folding his arms across his chest, popping his hip out. It didn’t seem to bother him to be nude in such a casual setting. Leon respectfully maintained eye contact regardless, watching as the werewolf smirked. Not going to stare this time? If he was going to tease him about it, he held back.
“And hopefully that means being useful for something other than having the most pathetic diet of all recorded vampire history.” He added dryly, beginning to walk towards a small clearing, by which the briefcase he’d been carrying sat. Leon trotted behind him, watching dumbly as he opened the case and produced clothing, sliding on a black turtleneck (whose sleeves he immediately rolled up past his forearms), some lethally-well-tailored slacks, socks, and dress shoes. No underwear? Leon licked his lips. It was just as hot to watch him dress as it had been to see him naked. “Now, off you go, pup. The sun will be up soon, so I’m afraid our little tryst has to come to an end.” His face was unreadable, but the lilt in his voice was playful, as if he hadn’t really been all that inconvenienced by running into Leon tonight.
“Right, thanks again. For the blood and the-” Orgasm. He cleared his throat, watching as Wesker raised a brow and smirked. Leon tried not to think about how badly he wanted to run his tongue over that dimple. He only let out an amused hum in response, looking the vampire up and down as he did so.
“Mmm. Perhaps next time you’ll be able to return the favor.” Leon couldn’t help but grin, bolstered by his tone of voice and looks he was giving him. “In kind. If you’d let me. With interest. For… trying to kill you and all,” he chuckled, watching as Wesker did the same. He’d amused him. It took everything in him not to ask to go home with him right now. “Gotta be useful somehow before I figure out my divine vampire purpose, right?”
Wesker let out an amused Ha! at the remark about interest. “Good morning, Leon.” He only replied, hearing the vampire wish him the same. This was hardly a goodbye; the scent of Leon’s blood that had stained the fabric around his forearm made him easily trackable now. He might as well have microchipped him. Wesker smirked at the idea, taking out his cell phone and dialing Ada’s number. What an interesting development. “Agent Wong, you won’t believe who I had the pleasure of dining with tonight.” Vampires were typically very fond of their protogés, and Wesker had famously never been able to pin down anything that mattered to Ada… until now. He smirked, red eyes glowing with sadistic glee.
Leon would be very useful… whether he knew it or not.
He was hardly a master of the intricacies of his nature, but he’d been relatively proud of himself for managing not to feed on a single human. Animals and synthetic blood had worked well enough, and if he was being honest, the act of feeding was still something that thoroughly repulsed him. Feasting on anything other than cows, chickens and pigs (he really missed human food) just wasn’t his style.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t. After the absolute hell that broke loose in Raccoon City and the neighboring Arklay mountains, nothing was off the table… supernaturally speaking. He shouldn’t have been surprised that vampires existed, and he supposed it also shouldn’t have shocked him to find out that the woman he’d spent his last night as a human with was one of them. Leon definitely hadn’t planned for Ada to turn him, though.
“It was for your own good,” she’d breathed, and Leon could see the tender sincerity in her eyes. He would have died anyway. She didn’t want to lose him. Leon understood; it felt good to be wanted in the way Ada wanted him, wanted him to live… even if it meant having to die first. He’d never resent her; maybe if he hadn’t felt so guilty for getting a second chance, he could enjoy it as the gift that he was certain it should feel like. The circumstances (and sporadic reunions) hadn’t really given her a chance to teach him much about being a vampire, so he’d been trying to make do as best he could.
He closed his eyes, sighing heavily… a human habit he’d never really kicked. None of this introspection was helping his current hunger predicament. He didn’t like feeding on people; it felt too intimate for something that would be only a casual encounter, and frankly, he didn’t really get the hype behind them anyway. Some vampires went crazy at the smell of human blood, but to Leon, it smelled just as generally mundane as the lab-made stuff. It’s just sustenance, nothing more.
One perk of being a vampire was that things were quieter at night. Vampires were still keen on making themselves scarce (for the most part) and humans were quick to turn in for the night because of the national panic around potential biohazard breakouts. He’d liked that it was easier to be alone now, to excuse himself from the social gatherings his coworkers would often try and infringe upon him; he’d eagerly used his sliver of “freedom” (if you could call it that) the U.S. government afforded him to request night shifts and operations, which they generously gave him. He knew it was only because everybody else hated working nights. He also knew that if they’d found out about what he was, he never would’ve left that cold cell room they’d kept him in for three days without food when they’d found him.
The local gas station had been out of his favorite blood type, but he’d supposed it didn’t matter much. Leon thumbed through the small bills in his wallet to pay. “Can I use your-” Microwave. To heat it up?
The clerk tapped the taped sign on the microwave behind the counter that read OUT OF ORDER, their eyes glued to a small portable television; more news broadcasts. God, was he sick of them. Leon rolled his eyes. “Great.” He inhaled through his nose to heave a sigh and felt his whole body prickle.
What was that smell?
A quick glance around the small gas station told him it was nothing here. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose again. It was close, and it was incredible. He placed the cash on the counter for the bottle of blood, turned on his heel, and left without his purchase. “Keep it!” Leon waved a hand dismissively behind him as the cashier shouted after him. He had to find out what that was! Nothing had ever smelled so good to him in his life!
… Or death.
He jogged out of the gas station and looked around. The streets weren’t empty; there were small groups of humans walking about, music playing from a bistro across the street… had it really been a-
A figure exited the dimly-lit coffeeshop nearly a block down from him. Leon could see him as clearly as if he was standing two feet in front of him. He was tall, in a long wool coat that swayed with each graceful movement of his feet. Leather gloves that Leon could smell the scent of covered his hands that held a briefcase, and the product that he’d used to gel his blonde hair back so immaculately had a distinct, heady scent to it too. He hadn’t seen his face, but he knew he was handsome, exerting a kind of confidence in every move that Leon couldn’t help but be drawn to. It reminded him of the way Ada always carried herself.
His feet moved independent from his will, not even realizing that he had begun to pursue this mysterious person. The smell had to be him, didn’t it? Leon stopped in his tracks. If it had been him, that meant he’d wanted to feed from a human being. He let out a shaky breath; this wasn’t a revelation that came easily to him. What was he supposed to do? The words of his maker sighed against the back of his neck, “You have to feed. The quicker you realize that, the easier it becomes.” Leon let out a soft groan. Alright, he’d had the revelation. How was he feeling even worse?
He sniffed the air again and proceeded to track the scent.
Maybe he has a dead squirrel in his bag or something. Maybe it’s not him. Small chance of a tantalizing animal nearby? Or, you know when you’re at a grocery store, and you can’t help but follow the same person around and you feel like you’re stalking them, but you really aren’t? You obviously aren’t!
He walked under a street lamp, lit up by warmth and dangerous red neon from a crowded bar and offered a glance back to Leon’s position. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes despite the darkness outside, but Leon felt them on him regardless and it made his whole body surge with heat. A playful smirk invited the presence of a dimple at the corner of his mouth and Leon let out a shaky exhale. Definitely not a ‘Back off, creep’.
Was he encouraging him?!
Leon’s mouth hung agape, his space-out session harshly interrupted by the unpleasant feeling of his feeder fangs jutting out and stabbing uncomfortably against his lip. This was turning him on. Ice cold shame shot down his spine and collided with the magmatic sensation of the fullest extent of his hunger.
As a species, vampires were always in relentless pursuit of heat. Warmth. Anything that could stir that feeling in their cold, dead hearts warranted immediate attention. Leon swore he’d wanted to resist it but kept moving anyway, trying to ignore the hunger in his belly and the desire between his legs. The fact that the stranger encouraged his lust - whether it be carnal or sexual - only made things worse.
His hunt led him through the city, keeping a respectable distance (Leon briefly wondered if one could respectably stalk someone). He slowed to a halt in favor of taking another deep breath of the smell, closing his eyes in bliss as it wove its way through his senses. When he opened his eyes, he looked around. His object of pursuit had disappeared. No, no, no…
Leon huffed, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath through his nose and willing all of the world’s distractions to leave him. Come on, senses. The one thing this stupid curse is good for, and I can’t even- No.
Oh!
There it was again!
He took a sharp turn down an alleyway, behind the bustling buildings and out into the mouth of a field that led into some kind of ambiguously-florally-dense wooded area. It seemed like entirely too rural of a setting for the person he’d been following, but his heart pounded with hope. Maybe it hadn’t been him. Maybe it had been some kind of animal he could guilt-free eat for dinner after all! He allowed himself a small bit of optimism as he broke off into a jog towards the scent trail, eager to find his dinner and put these complicated feelings behind him.
It was like coming across a free filet mignon for dinner when you were planning on having stale cereal!
He had to have been pacing around the area for at least twenty minutes. Finally, his sharp eyes landed on a feral creature, some kind of dog. A wolf? He supposed it wasn’t uncommon in some nondescript United States rural town. His breathing stuttered; it had gorgeous eyes. Red like the blood he craved, like the life force that sustained him. Red like fire on a dark, black night. The trees whistled and swayed as they stared one another down. It was a shame to kill it. Maybe he could get away with feeding and letting it live. It looked like a big enough beast… he told himself to know restraint. You’re better than your hunger. The wolf seemed to have eyed him before it took off into a sprint. Leon gave chase, determined not to lose it like he had with that human.
“Ugh, come on, just a quick bite!” Leon huffed (as if it could understand!), watching as it stopped its running and turned towards him, shook its uniquely-colored coat and chuffed indignantly. He had to give this dog credit; it was sure giving him a run for his money. It stared him down, like it was ready to confront Leon. It’s like it knew how to evade vampires or something!
Any remaining distance between them had been immediately closed by the vampire. The old dog was fast, but not fast enough. Leon managed to fake it out, grasping it by the thick scruff of its neck and baring his fangs, yanking it towards his mouth. Just a quick bite, and-
Leon yelped as he felt a strong hand on the scruff of his neck.
Wait. What? Wolves didn’t have-
He soared through the air, landing harshly on his upper back with a thud; Leon wheezed. How the hell did he get the wind knocked out of him if he was a vampire?! When he’d tried to stand up, he collided with the ground again, like a bouncing ball, knocked down by a seemingly-invisible force. He scampered to his feet, letting his reflexes guide him in the direction of the scent and motion and slammed the beast to the ground. He gasped as he felt a human hand pinch just under his cheekbones, rendering him unable to bite down. A trick people used to keep puppies from biting them. Leon hadn’t anticipated its effectiveness for also thwarting vampires.
A human hand-?!
Staring up at him was, in fact… well… if Leon ever let himself eat healthily, he would’ve been able to blush. The same red eyes that he’d seen in the wolf stared up at him, piercing and intense, sharp teeth still bared in a threatening sneer as a naked, plush, very human chest steadily moved with each measured breath. Whatever he was, he wasn’t just some animal. Leon had broken what little bit of personal code he’d managed to scrape together as a murderous creature of the night.
“Oh no. No, no, no-!” He may have been belly up, but Leon was the one completely at his mercy. He hadn’t spoken a word. Sharp nails pressed into his throat and it didn’t take the vampire very long to surmise that this creature - or human, whatever he may be - was just as capable of killing him as he was. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He panted, putting his hands up in surrender. His voice came out distorted due to the pressure on his cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you, I swear I had no idea you were human! I don’t hunt humans, or f-feed off of them…” He couldn’t stop staring at his eyes.
His pupils, nearly slitted, were trained on Leon’s own. Assessing him. Still hadn’t spoken. Could he speak at all? Leon felt his wrist pivot, tilting the vampire’s face in his grasp as though to get a good look at him. Finally, he wrinkled his nose and let out a distasteful-sounding chuff as he flicked his wrist, dismissing Leon from the lethal grasp. “Yes, yes, you’ve made that clear.” He watched as Leon landed in front of him on his rear with a grunt. “And frankly, it would matter very little to me if you did.” Leon backed away, finally getting a good look at the person he’d attacked. Attacked! He felt awful!
Well… he felt awful at first. He swallowed thickly, feeling that icy-hot warmth creeping through his dead nervous system. The person sitting opposite him was completely nude; pale skin dusted sporadically by surprisingly dense blonde hair covered his body, matching that of the hair on his head. Leon assumed it had once been nicely slicked back, but now lay a bit tousled after their… confrontation. His eyes widened as he’d realized that this was the person he’d been following! It had been him that smelled so good!
“And, as I’m sure even the likes of your keen vampire senses have deduced, I am not human.” His tone of voice contained no anger, rather, it sounded like he was… bored. The red of his eyes now looked much less lethal, pillowed by long blonde eyelashes like a setting sun during a forest fire. Leon had been so awestruck by his handsomeness that he hadn’t noticed his feeder fangs popping out again, pushing against his lips and exposing his bottom gums in a… less than flattering way. Ada had once teasingly told him it made him look like a bulldog. The same smirk he’d been teased with earlier returned to the other supernatural’s face. Mildly amused. At Leon’s expense, no doubt. It only made the feelings of starvation churn louder within him. He was right back where he started: starving and turned on.
“Right, yeah that’s… obvious now.” Leon cleared his throat, trying to tuck his fangs back into his dry mouth. The yellow moon above them casted a warm glow upon the one before him; perfect lighting to accommodate Leon’s shameless staring. “I’m sorry again. I had no idea that things-” Those pupils pinned dangerously again, followed by an arch of the brow. Not things! “Er, not things. Other… creatures…” Another distasteful nose wrinkle, but it was better than that look in his eye. “Other than vampires existed. Out in the world.” He gestured flippantly and swallowed thickly, trying to keep his eyes from raking over his body. “I wouldn’t’ve… jumped you like that if I’d known that.”
The mysterious shifter only offered an amused snort in response. “A word of advice...” He hummed, watching Leon’s nostrils flare as he took a deep breath in through his nose to heave a heavy sigh. “You ought to stay well-fed. It’s bad practice for a vampire to starve himself. It typically leads to…” he paused, the dimple teasing at the corner of his mouth again, “... unsavory, impulsive decisions. That could have gotten you killed.” He finished with a purse of his lips, adjusting his hips with another flippant sigh. As in, I would have killed you. He was clearly strong, but such strength was hidden behind thick deposits of fat held on his breasts, stomach and hips. If Leon had to guess, he’d say there was likely more muscle in his legs and back specifically. Leon licked his lips at the thick bush concealing his privates.
“Were your manners this bad as a human, or is that a newfound trait of vampirism I’m unfamiliar with?” He drawled, tilting his head to the side and arching his brow. He’d tried to hide it, but Leon swore he saw a bit of a grin tug at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, hah, yeah, I mean, no. My name’s Leon. And you are?”
Those red eyes held mischief in them. Leon’s stomach fluttered as they narrowed at him playfully, as if he was debating on answering.
“You will call me Wesker.” He replied, though his tone held little actual authority in it. Leon supposed it didn’t need to; he was planning on obeying anyway.
“Oh, will I?” Leon quipped with a half smirk of his own. He watched Wesker’s brows raise, a pleased grin sliding onto his face. He liked his attitude. It made Leon’s heart leap for reasons unknown.
“It would be preferable to human or thing.” Wesker raised a brow and narrowed his eyes, testing to see if Leon would challenge him again. Leon gave a sheepish grin and an understanding nod. Fair enough. He must’ve voiced it, for the shifter gave a satisfied hum. “So, Leon… why, pray tell, are you running around chasing squirrels and werewolves for dinner instead of the much more sensible options available to you?” Now it was Leon’s turn to raise his eyebrows.
“I don’t… like feeding on people. My maker said that I’d just get over it and become fine with it, but it’s been a few months now and I still can’t stomach the idea of…” He swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “When I was human, I didn’t even like sending my wrong food orders back to the kitchen.” He chuckled, hearing Wesker let out a soft snort, “Don’t think I’m cut out for being some kind of…domineering, top of the food chain type.” Shrugging his shoulders, he watched the werewolf’s eyes go to his feeder fangs that still, embarrassingly, were out.
“That is abundantly clear. You hold your own well enough in a fight… though you are quite the talent at making your desire apparent.”
Leon had tried to keep eye contact, he really had. But when he saw those large thighs move again out of the corner of his eye, they had his undivided attention. The femoral artery whispered to him, the veins underneath Wesker’s pale skin on those fatty, pliable legs calling to him like nothing he’d ever felt before. Wesker repositioned himself to sit with one leg stretched out before him, the other slightly hiked up, resting his elbow on the drawn-up knee. His breasts and the rolls on his stomach moved with the gesture, and Leon’s eyes moved further down to the tip of his cock that exposed itself from between his labia. He was stunning, reminding Leon of the marble nude statues that decorated elaborate buildings overseas. As if remembering himself, his eyes shot back up to Wesker’s, who was waiting for him to finish his ogling with an amused purse of his lips.
“Sorry,” Leon said again, clearing his throat and moving to get up. “Anyway, I should probably get out of your…” he couldn’t help the grin at his own impending joke, “... fur.” Wesker rolled his eyes and gave a disgusted kind of sound that told Leon he was more amused by it than truly offended.
“In pursuit of what? Any wildlife out here has been thoroughly frightened off by our little scuffle.” The vampire pressed his lips in a flat line and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. God dammit. He was right. “And you must feed.” He leaned forward, swiping his thumb over the skin underneath Leon’s ear, “Because this,” collecting a bit of blood that had begun trailing down from his ear canal. The bleeds, they were called. When vampires were starting to get severely weak, specifically from starvation or lack of sleep. “… Is not good.” He watched dumbly as the werewolf sampled his blood from his thumb with a distasteful scowl. “And it must be on something other than a sewer rat. Or that synthetic garbage humans are pitching to your kind as of late.”
“Nobody’s pitching anything to me, drinking synthetic blood is the right thing to do.” Leon snapped. “Like I said, I don’t want to feed on-” His nostrils flared, blue irises being swallowed by blown, black pupils.
Wesker had reached beside himself, found a jagged piece of wood and gashed the middle of his inner forearm with it, giving little more than a mildly-inconvenienced-sounding grunt. Leon watched the blood slowly seep from the wound, dark red and everything he wanted. He was keenly unaware of the amused expression on the now-injured party’s face as he watched the vampire lean closer to the cut, creeping to it like a predator about to strike. Wesker felt his skin prickle with gooseflesh at the power he held over this young vampire. Leon lost himself momentarily to his instinct, lunging at the delicious blood, his lips inches from his precious life force before he was abruptly stopped in his tracks by Wesker’s free hand grasping the erection in Leon’s jeans. His smile grew.
“This indicates otherwise.” He purred, his hot breath washing over Leon’s scalp. He shuddered, letting out a shaky gasp. His breath was so warm, his hand on him was so warm. Hot, hot, hot! Leon could smell the heat coming from his blood, his eyes fluttering as he let out an embarrassing sound. And God, the heat from between his legs! He didn’t know what he was enjoying more; even if he hadn’t gotten to taste Wesker’s amazing-smelling blood - talk about a delicious cut of meat! - this would have been enough to coast on for the next six months, he was sure of it.
Leon swallowed thickly, bracing himself on his palms as he was on his hands and knees before the werewolf, nearly crawling over his lap sideways. They were both on the ground, and perhaps Leon would have thought, before tonight, that a werewolf wouldn’t have stood a chance against a vampire, but he’d learned quickly that this werewolf was special. And, shifting talent aside, also seemed to have a knack for making himself deceptively imposing. An excited chill shot up his spinal cord.
“N-not without your permission, I promise,” he breathed, feeling a chuff of hot air blast against his scalp again. More amusement. His clothed cock throbbed in the werewolf’s grasp. Wesker gave an amused hum in response, as if that sentiment was already obvious to him. It had impressed him that Leon was able to remember himself in the face of food; typically, vampires were driven solely by their hunger. Interesting.
“How considerate.” His tone indicated slight surprise, like it had been genuine praise. Leon felt his toes curl in his shoes. “Now eat. You’ll be in quite a sorry state by dawn if you neglect yourself any further.” With one last cautious glance upwards into Wesker’s red eyes, his hands came up and grasped either sides of the werewolf’s arm in favor of holding himself up. “And, as we’ve established, I am not human, so your weary conscience can rest.” A wry quip at his expense. He could feel Wesker’s eyes on him as he nursed, feel his pulse and his breathing and… he let out a low moan, unable to keep his eyes open as he felt precum stain his underwear. Wesker rolled his palm against his hard cock, keeping him in place with much gentler force. Leon didn’t even need to rut his hips; his warm palm felt heavenly, even though his pants.
The vampire made sure to eat gently, striving not to make a mess, his tongue sweeping attentively around the underside of his arm to keep any blood from running down it. His good work was met with another generous fondling of his bulge. A colorful flush spread over Leon’s face as his life force entered him and nourished him. He wasn’t sure if human blood had ever been able to satisfy him like this, let alone so quickly or abundantly. Wesker snorted. More stroking of his shaft through his jeans elicited a guttural growl from the starved (in more ways than one, he imagined) beast in his lap. Baby bats. He wasn’t going to tell this one he’d never let anyone feed off of him before; in fact, any attempts at doing so always guaranteed the enemy vampire’s demise. His thumb rubbed at the tip of his cock in slow, circular motions. He recognized the scent of this vampire, of the supernatural blood that reanimated him, and felt himself smirk.
Oh, Ada… taking in sad little puppies now, hmm?
“Okay, okay,” Leon gasped, werewolf blood still gurgling in the back of his throat as he pulled off, panting raggedly and swallowing. His crotch was sticky with release. His tongue slid over his lips as his eyes fluttered, willing them to focus. Coming down from a feeding and a sexual high hadn’t been something he’d experienced before. He supposed it wasn’t his fault that this vaguely rude and delicious werewolf hadn’t made it easy on him to control either impulse.
“Ah, returning to the land of the living, are we?” Wesker cooed with one last caress of his privates, and Leon could only let out a flustered chuckle. He sat back on his rear, taking the hem of his own t-shirt in his hand and ripping a strip of it off. Wesker watched him with an inquisitive frown.
“Here, for your…” Leon started, moving to bind the puncture wounds his fangs left in his skin. The werewolf allowed it, feeling heat rising at the back of his own neck. He’d waited for Leon to offer him some of his own blood to heal him, but he must not have known about his blood’s ability to mend non-vampires. Interesting. “And thank you. Seriously. I really… did need that,” he heaved a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just… still feel so new to everything. Doesn’t seem like I’ll ever get used to it,” he breathed, licking his lips. Wesker raised a brow.
“Think nothing of it.” He replied mildly. Wesker would be healed by tomorrow morning anyway with his own impressive regenerative abilities. “I imagine it’s difficult to grasp the concept of life after death.” He hadn’t known why he’d said it; he was hardly interested in coddling this vampire, and emotional warmth was hardly a desirable trait to him.
Leon nodded, his shoulders sagging as he thumbed at a smooth rock at his feet. “After what happened in Racoon City, I… can’t say I wanted to live all that badly even when I was human.” It tumbled out before he could stop himself. Wesker said nothing, but Leon had a feeling he was perceptive enough to figure out that Leon had been implying he was one of the few “survivors”... whatever that had meant now with his vampirism as a part of the equation.
“I wanted to help people. I don’t want to see them as… dinner.” He swallowed thickly, running his tongue over his mouth and swiping a hand over it. Some of Wesker’s blood lightly stained the side of his hand. The feeling of shame returned. Leon ran a thumb over it thoughtfully. “Now everything’s… upside down,” the werewolf had only heard him due to keen senses of his own. “And I dunno what to make of anything anymore.” He sighed again. It amused Wesker that he still feigned such human habits. Most vampires he’d met had been delighted to be turned. This marked Leon as the second melancholy bloodsucker he’d known. He remembered Ada telling him, resolutely, that she would never turn someone, never wanting to impart the curse of vampirism to another. Had she changed? Wesker sighed as if the thought had bored him.
“The existence of supernaturals is still relatively unknown. I imagine there is much still to accomplish, even for a vampire. I’m assuming the top brass of our good nation are none the wiser to your condition?” Leon shook his head, making Wesker chuckle. They couldn’t even identify a baby vampire! Things must have really gone downhill since Umbrella’s collapse. The thought made him grin. “We aren’t human, that is fact. But it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a miserable existence.” He paused, watching as Leon perked up; he was going to say something more, but decided against it. He felt his black heart pound in his chest at the vampire’s hopeful expression.
“... You’re just a pup. You’ll grow into your fangs,” Wesker grunted, standing himself up and hoisting Leon up effortlessly by his bicep. It reminded the vampire of how wolves carried those smaller than them. “And when you do, you’ll find your purpose.” Leon frowned, but nodded his head; he’d said it like it was just a simple fact of life. Wesker ran a hand through his hair, fixing it back to its perfectly-gelled state and folding his arms across his chest, popping his hip out. It didn’t seem to bother him to be nude in such a casual setting. Leon respectfully maintained eye contact regardless, watching as the werewolf smirked. Not going to stare this time? If he was going to tease him about it, he held back.
“And hopefully that means being useful for something other than having the most pathetic diet of all recorded vampire history.” He added dryly, beginning to walk towards a small clearing, by which the briefcase he’d been carrying sat. Leon trotted behind him, watching dumbly as he opened the case and produced clothing, sliding on a black turtleneck (whose sleeves he immediately rolled up past his forearms), some lethally-well-tailored slacks, socks, and dress shoes. No underwear? Leon licked his lips. It was just as hot to watch him dress as it had been to see him naked. “Now, off you go, pup. The sun will be up soon, so I’m afraid our little tryst has to come to an end.” His face was unreadable, but the lilt in his voice was playful, as if he hadn’t really been all that inconvenienced by running into Leon tonight.
“Right, thanks again. For the blood and the-” Orgasm. He cleared his throat, watching as Wesker raised a brow and smirked. Leon tried not to think about how badly he wanted to run his tongue over that dimple. He only let out an amused hum in response, looking the vampire up and down as he did so.
“Mmm. Perhaps next time you’ll be able to return the favor.” Leon couldn’t help but grin, bolstered by his tone of voice and looks he was giving him. “In kind. If you’d let me. With interest. For… trying to kill you and all,” he chuckled, watching as Wesker did the same. He’d amused him. It took everything in him not to ask to go home with him right now. “Gotta be useful somehow before I figure out my divine vampire purpose, right?”
Wesker let out an amused Ha! at the remark about interest. “Good morning, Leon.” He only replied, hearing the vampire wish him the same. This was hardly a goodbye; the scent of Leon’s blood that had stained the fabric around his forearm made him easily trackable now. He might as well have microchipped him. Wesker smirked at the idea, taking out his cell phone and dialing Ada’s number. What an interesting development. “Agent Wong, you won’t believe who I had the pleasure of dining with tonight.” Vampires were typically very fond of their protogés, and Wesker had famously never been able to pin down anything that mattered to Ada… until now. He smirked, red eyes glowing with sadistic glee.
Leon would be very useful… whether he knew it or not.