Life's Mirage

I do not own VHD; B but I really wish that I did...

(Many thanks to my ever-increasing reviewers! You make-eth me so happy!)

BlackJackKat: Thank you for your thoughts. I'll try my hardest to fit Grove-chan in there somewhere...but I'll have to create some bogus reason as to why first!

Strega: Thank you so much! Ah...that question. No D is not damned (Not automatically anyway). He is only half vampire so if he kills something with the desire to help another he's doing fine.

Mistress of Dragons: Yay! You reviewed me!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it, here's another chapter! Please update your fic...I neeeeed it!

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Kenshin no Sakura: Thanks Colleen! Huzzah! I surprised you. See if this chapter is worth anything to your mighty fox-ness!

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Everything halted abruptly. Borgoff gasped, feeling dizzy and nearly hysterical, as the teeth stopped millimeters from his throat. The monster kept its jaws positioned there, seeming suddenly unsure about this intended meal. The oldest Markus swallowed, and tried again, a bit louder.

"Kyle?"

The flame colored monster pulled its head back and closed its large muzzle. Cocking its head on one side it stared down at him, luminescent blue eyes showing signs of bafflement. It kept a large paw firmly in place on Borgoff's chest, to insure that he didn't go anywhere, then bent over and sniffed him, only to pull back and look more confused than ever.

Borgoff could barely stop himself from screaming. His leg was on fire with pain, his air was almost completely cut off by the enormous paw that restrained his upper body, and this- this THING was responding to his little brothers name! What the hell?! He knew damn well that Kyle was dead, he'd watched him die then freaking buried him! Why did this monster have to look so much like him? ...Why did he THINK that it looked so much like him? Borgoff's thoughts were cut off by the alleviation of pressure; he choked and heaved a sigh of relief as the werewolf pulled its foreleg off of him. It sniffed its paw, then stood and walked around the broken looking man on the ground, snuffling in what seemed to be a precautionary way. Levering himself slowly, up onto one arm, the oldest Markus watched warily as the monster circled, until it finally stopped, near his head. The dark haired man cringed as the snout neared his face, but all it did was sniff him again. Snorting, it shook its head, and then stood on its hind legs, breathed deeply, and took off. Kicking up dust, it tore down the hillside, and off into the night.

Borgoff's mouth fell open in total surprise. "So that's IT?" He called after the rapidly diminishing form. "Now you're just gonna run away?!?" The pain from his leg hit him again, and he curled up whimpering for a while then, resignedly, began dragging himself back into the caverns.

D stared at the scuffed bloodstained earth in front of the caverns in total disbelief.

"See, what did I tell ya?" Left hand muttered smugly. "Didn't I tell you to kill him yesterday when it would have been easy? But oh no, you had to feed him, so he figured you must be all nicey-nice and that he could get away with anything!" D made no reply, as his appendage continued. "You just had to play 'good guy', and now someone's dead, I hope you're happy, Dunpeal." Still ignoring the continuous rant, D turned and headed inside.

Borgoff sat in the reclined drivers seat watching, partially out of curiosity and partially out of boredom, as his leg healed before his eyes. He grunted softly as the bone snapped back into the correct position, and the still tender flesh twisted with it.

"Damn, but that's helpful..." He muttered, again wishing that he had been able to perform that particular action when he had been human. He moved his leg slowly, wincing slightly, then whistled under his breath, feeling impressed. "That was fast..." He murmured, then glanced down at his watch. "Took eight hours, heh would've taken eight WEEKS before." He grinned slightly, then lapsed into silence. That werewolf was still bothering him...the way it had bolted, you would've thought it had recognized him or something, but-

The door of the tank slammed open abruptly. Caught completely off guard, the oldest Markus jumped nearly a foot in the air and whipped around, heart racing.

"D?" He asked, seeing the cloaked figure in the doorway. "Dear lord, don't scare me like that! I- huh?" His words were cut off as he was once again pinned against the wall by the Dunpeal's blade.

"Why did you do it?" D murmured, careful not to let any of his anger or disappointment show.

"Do WHAT?!?" Borgoff squeaked in a panic. He felt entirely lost, why on earth was D attacking him?

"Kill." The Dunpeal stated. D watched as Borgoff vainly attempted to protest. "The blood out front," The dark hunter continued. "Who was it? A passing traveler? A maiden from the village? Where did you hide the corpse?"

Borgoff felt near hysterics again. Where was the Dunpeal getting all of this? The blood out front? What-...oh.

He squirmed desperately and managed to shake his head, suggesting the negative to D's inquiries. Seeing the Dunpeal's expression didn't change, nor did his grip, the dark haired man tried one last thing, and gestured frantically to his left leg. D glanced down in the direction of the frenzied pointing, and noticed the gaping rips and tears in the fabric of the Markus' pants directly below the knee. Frowning, he relaxed his grip enough to allow the vampire to breathe properly.

"What happened?" He asked simply, in unhurried monotone.

"I got attacked by a freaking werewolf!" Borgoff nearly shrieked the answer, desperate to have the sword removed from his throat. He noticed the vague flicker of surprise that rushed across the Dunpeal's features at that answer, so he continued. "It came from the direction of the village, I swear! I didn't provoke it or anything, it just shot out of nowhere and damn near ATE me!!"

"Were you bitten?" D asked, sounding entirely unconcerned, he watched as the oldest Markus shook his head again. The sword was slowly removed and then sheathed. Borgoff collapsed backwards looking terrified and breathing heavily. "Stay here." The Dunpeal said softly before turning and exiting the tank. Too frightened to disobey, Borgoff remained where he was.

"So I was wrong for once..." Left hand muttered, sounding disappointed. "You should kill him anyway, D, you know."

"Be quiet." D murmured, bending down and retrieving the two rabbits that he had dropped upon seeing the blood. Straightening, he pivoted, and walked back inside. D entered the still open door of the tank silently, and watched his charge lie trembling on the floor, eyes closed.

Borgoff rubbed at his throat, feeling scared and offended, hadn't he made it clear last time that he would rather DIE than kill anyone? Apparently not... Sighing, the dark haired man glanced up, and nearly had a heart attack to find D looming ominously over him.

"C-can't you announce yourself or something!?" Borgoff cried feeling slightly angry. He received no reply from the Dunpeal, who just handed him the rabbits. After a very forced assertion of gratitude was expressed from the oldest Markus, D spoke.

"You said a werewolf attacked you?" He asked, sounding bored as was usual. Borgoff nodded. D abruptly stood and began to walk away. "I'm going to look for it," The Dunpeal called over his shoulder. "Stay here, I'll come back tomorrow or the day after." Then he was gone.

The dark haired man stared after the Dunpeal incredulously. This was the second near-death-experience he had been forced to endure in less than a day! "This really bites..." He muttered angrily, before staring down at the two small rabbits and feeling strangely light headed. "Damn this whole thing..."

"Now this is more like it!" Left hand said happily. "We can turn the werewolf in to Garuchia's Sheriff's department for some cash, instead of the vampire! Great, not a total loss then." D was thinking the same thing. Spotting the light impressions in the sand heading into the desert, D spurred his horse, and galloped off.

Leila grinned as she adjusted the sign hanging on the door of her new house. It read, Leila; Huntress of vampiric creatures, and various monsters of the night. She stepped back to admire it. Now she didn't have to get a job at all! The Sheriff's department had hired her on the spot, after the scene with the werewolf, to be the town's watch and protector. She was paid well and in full. Feeling the happiest she had in a week, Leila walked inside, twirling her gun and looking especially smug.

It was intensely gratifying to see that all of Garuchia's men followed her now. Asking if they could be of any service, or if they could help her around the house. Ha! As if. Just a few days ago they had all been laughing scornfully at the 'new girl in town' and now they were acting like love-struck wenches...go figure. Sighing, blissfully she set off for her new Jacuzzi; nothing in the world could possibly dampen THIS! No way!

Borgoff carelessly tossed the freshly drained rabbits into the tanks refrigerator. Seeing as he was unable to eat any of the meat himself he figured he would ask D if he could have any use for the bodies when he got back... Now he was bored... most decidedly so, not to mention lonely. There was just nothing to do. His body didn't seem to need sleep as often as it had before, and even though it was day he wasn't the least bit tired. Sighing heavily, he sat back in the driver's seat, pulled out a cigar and an old ragged book, and began searching through the glove compartment for his lighter.

D urged his horse to greater speeds. The tracks had become heavier, clearer than before, the werewolf must have changed back into its human shape and staggered on for a while. The tracks rounded a bend by the large outcrop of rocks and vanished down a small opening in between two boulders. After hitching his horse to a thin projected bit of granite, he bent down to inspect the gap. It went about eight feet down, and was very narrow for the first three feet, the small 'cave' then widened into a place large enough for a wolf pack to curl up in...let alone just one lost werewolf. Judging from the shadowy form hunched in the corner, that was exactly what the monster had done.

Silent as night, the Dunpeal entered the small space and dropped lightly next to the slumbering creature. Gazing down, he shifted noiselessly to the left, so that the sun streamed in to illuminate the prone form.

"No. Damn. Way." Left hand whispered in disbelief. "Not possible, it's just a trick of the light or something, kill it, D."

D didn't move.

"Can't you hear me?" The parasite hissed. "C'mon, stab it!" D continued to ignore his hand; instead he stared at the bright red hair, braid, and easily recognizable features of the man stretched out before him. The dark hunter shook his head. How many MORE of them were still alive?? Was he going to have to care for ALL of his previous adversaries? Feeling unsure, D bent down and took the other mans pulse and felt a strong steady beat, he was alive then...not a reanimated corpse. Hadn't this one died though? Yes, the description fit, Leila had stopped him on the way back to Garuchia so that she could put flowers on his grave...so how was he here now? Gingerly, the Dunpeal nudged the sleeping creature with the toe of his boot, and watched as the other groaned slightly and flipped over onto his stomach.

There they were, as he had expected. Long jagged scars, that ran from the red head's lower back up to the base of his skull, and a set of tooth marks embedded deep into the flesh of the abdomen. These must have been from that Barboroi... the Lycanthropic one with the symbiot in the shape of a large wolfs muzzle that would protrude from his lower body... It could easily have bitten in passing, while it sliced his torso apart. D contemplated these thoughts. Certainly sounded right so far... It had been a harvest moon that night, which would have caused the change.

"But why is he still alive...?" D murmured to himself, as Left hand scoffed sounding irritated.

"He was infected with the other werewolf's toxin, of course." It muttered impatiently. "Even though his human self was slaughtered, the venom will have tethered his soul to the body to keep it going at full moon. Don't you know anything about Lycanthrope, D?" D chose to ignore that comment as the parasite continued. "The harvest moon we had that night played itself the same as the full moon last night. When the light fell on his grave, it would have triggered the change and the self healing, in order for the body to coincide with the venom's sudden urge to kill."

D continued to stare down at the man on the floor, morals and duty fighting themselves out in his mind. Finally, heaving a sigh of resignation, D bent and placed his cloak over the other, before picking him up and carrying him back out. Placing the still unconscious form in front of him on the saddle, D mounted and started off, back to the caverns. Borgoff would have to deal with this on his own, the Dunpeal had had enough.

"I'm back." D said simply. Watching from the door of the tank as the oldest Markus gave a rather humorous shriek of alarm, before seeing the Dunpeal. Relief and anger warred on Borgoff's features for a few seconds before he slid back resignedly into the drivers seat.

"Why so soon?" He asked, attempting to sound casual as he retrieved his book from the floor where it had flown during his moment of fright.

"I have something to show you," The Dunpeal murmured. "Come and see."