As if on cue, Jules retreated in one swift motion while Bastien pounced forward, switching places with the hunter. No need to exchange words, or even glances, for Jules to catch on to what the incubus intended to do. His seething rage spoke volumes, and during the past few days, he'd come to understand that Bastien's personality was fairly simple:
Rational until it wasn't. Just like his.
Jules took place in front of the boys, adopting a crunching position while opening his wings wide to serve as some sort of shield. He might not be able to pull his weight against this old thing, but he should at least be able to take a few hits. If anything, his body was absurdly sturdy; his broken wrist and ankle were already mending.
'It's too soon.' The intrusive thought gnawed at Jules's mind. 'Bastien shouldn't be fighting, not yet.'
The hunter pinched his lips, trying to snuffle the anxiety out. Still, he couldn't help worrying. Even if he had been feeding the incubus well these past few days, it certainly wasn't enough. Fasting for so long had rendered Bastien weak, so weak that he couldn't fight back against measly mirror ghosts and almost ended up dying. Granted, he was in the middle of an indigestion at the time, but that was a small detail Jules willingly chose to ignore.
The sight of Bastien's shredded back was still fresh in his mind, like a nightmare that refused to dissipate.
They weren't very close back then.
But now…
Now, Jules didn't want to think about it. He took a deep breath, eyeing the desk and his peeking sister. A glare was enough to send her back hiding under the desk with the others.
Right. No matter how unpleasant the idea of letting the incubus fight in his stead was, they didn't have much choice. One had to stay out to protect their charges in case of a mishap. The other had to fight with the vampire for as long as necessary, if only to distract him while they weighed their options. They couldn't give him any time to realize that more people were hiding in the room. That wouldn't end well for anyone.
A crash made Jules clench his fists. Bastien had been thrown across the room, slamming onto the couch, which flipped over.
Goddammit, he knew it.
Jules gritted his teeth. Bastien had regained enough strength to fight against giant spiders and the like, but those were beings with barely any intellect. They acted on mere instinct. They couldn't be compared to a vampire, much less when the vampire in question was one of the primordials.
The incubus needed his help. But he couldn't leave his post. Not unless it was for a sure and swift win.
So, all Jules could do was watch.
He had to stay calm and push the anxiety aside. It was something easier to do when he was the one in the front line, and easier when he knew his partner's strength. Right now, he only had an overall idea of Bastien's fighting ability.
But even then, his knowledge had been constantly challenged these past few days, so could he even trust it?
What if incubi were even weaker than they were known for? Their recorded strength in the archives might as well be wrong. It could be lower.
Another crash, another intrusive thought, and his heart leaped further up in his throat. Was this how Bastien felt when he stubbornly went head-to-head with the werewolves? Maybe.
Again, Bastien was sent flying through the room, but this time, he dragged Balthazar with him, gripping his collar. They tumbled together on the floor and rolled in the middle of the room. The demon managed to get the upper hand and straddle the vampire, sitting on his waist as he punched down to the man's face.
His fists never reached the goal.
In an expert-like motion, Balthazar flipped their position over, slamming Bastien's face against the rug, one hand pressing down on the back of his head. The incubus was lying on his stomach, and the vampire sat on his buttocks, grabbing his wrists with his free hand to lock his arms behind his back, so high up it seemed like they were about to pop out of their shoulder sockets. At the same time, Balthazar positioned his legs on the demon's thighs in a way that made it hardly possible for him to thrash about.
Bastien was completely immobilized. Even Jules could tell.
"Don't you think this position suits you more?" Balthazar chuckled slowly, his crimson eyes squinted with malice. "How weak have you become over the years, Bastien? I remember, back in the day, you were—"
"Well," Bastien cut him off with a wry laugh, "I've grown old. That's all."
"Is that so?"
A short silence fell in the room.
"Why aren't you switching to your demon form?" Balthazar finally asked. "You know you won't win in that form, not against me."
"Well, I don't want to."
"Why? It's such a beautiful form!"
From his position, Jules could see Balthazar's face as clear as day, and discomfort rose in the pit of his stomach. The strange emotion flashing across the vampire's eyes… He didn't like it. It looked deranged, shattering the poised appearance he had been holding onto up to now.
Was this infatuation? Jules couldn't tell for sure. All he saw was demented excitement at the prospect of Bastien shapeshifting back into his original form. The anticipation was enough to erect a tent in Balthazar's pants, and he unceremoniously pressed it against the demon's lower back, bending over to whisper in the man's ear some more incentives.
"Doesn't your human form feel constrictive to you? Why are you being so stubborn? Don't be! I'll even let your angel pet live if you show me! Oh, I've missed it so much!"
It was sickening.
Still, Jules and Bastien knew that there would be a moment of distraction long enough for the hunter to attack as the incubus turned back into his original form. It'd be a small window, and the vampire might be expecting it, too. But they didn't have much of a choice.
So, Bastien conceded.
"…Lift my shirt and lower my pants, at least," he forced himself to say through gritted teeth and a stiff smile. As things were, his clothes would be torn into shreds, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of wandering around butt naked in this forsaken place.
These carelessly spoken words also served another purpose. He knew the man too well, unfortunately.
As expected, the demands exhilarated Balthazar to the point where he grew careless. He, of course, wasn't a fool and didn't release his grip on the incubus's wrists, lifting his shirt with his free hand, and shifted his weight lower on his thighs before lowering his pants and underwear, just enough for his tail to spring out without tearing the clothes. As he did, his cold fingers lingered on the now unveiled skin.
Seemingly entranced, the vampire was focused on the demon pinned under him, and the suggestive sight it offered. Jules had been thrown to the back of his mind. Not forgotten, but not seen as a danger, either.
The hunter coldly observed the change in Balthazar's expression, pushing down the raging inferno twisting his bowels. He couldn't be emotional right now, so he let himself fall into a detached, rational state.
Jules wouldn't have a second chance.
He couldn't miss.
So, he had to focus.
Bastien sighed before closing his eyes, and Jules understood it as the signal. In an instant, his sword reappeared in his hand, while the incubus's body started to morph. The hunter caught a glimpse of black bat-like wings, but only registered them as shadows, plunging toward the vampire instead, the blade of his sword pointed toward his chest. He couldn't yet marvel at Bastien's true form.
"You!"
The vampire caught on, of course, but a heartbeat too late. As he retreated backward, the sword nonetheless plunged into his chest. Jules clicked his tongue. It hadn't pierced the heart, the vampire moving sideways at the last second. He wouldn't die.
But the injury was enough.
"You little," Balthazar smiled wildly, grabbing the sword to pull it out. This kind of wound would heal fast enough; he had avoided the fatal injury. His heart was safe, and so was he.
Jules responded with a cold, indifferent glare. It wouldn't take long before realization struck. And indeed, when Balthazar tried to get up, his knees buckled, bringing him down and keeping him on the floor. His whole body started to tremble like a leaf.
"What did you do?!"
The shout reverberated throughout the office, but Jules pretended not to hear it. Instead, he lowered his eyes toward Bastien. The two-meter-long wings, along with two smaller ones below, stretched, while a jet-black, scaly tail whipped the air in visible annoyance.
Before long, Jules shifted his gaze, catching sight of the tips of pointy ears slipping through the now waist-long hair; the length had been altered, but not the wheat color.
Bastien pushed himself up in one swift motion, yet his movements appeared somewhat languid, almost in slow motion. Odd.
Hum? Was he a little taller now, too?
Again, Jules shifted his gaze, and the moment their eyes met, he froze. His cold expression didn't crack, but he forgot to breathe for an instant.
Holy cow—
Well, if anything, the hunter could now understand why Batlhazar was so badly infatuated. That face… Ethereal was the word, and even then, it didn't do it justice. Even in human form, Bastien was of the handsome kind, a perk inherited from his lineage as a humanoid supernatural being, but it was nothing compared to this.
His golden eyes shone with their usual warmth, landing on Jules with a hint of amusement.
Jules tore his gaze away from Bastien's and instead looked up. There was a whitish symbol on his forehead, the lines delicate and flowing graciously to form something akin to a flower shape wrapped around a crescent moon. The mark of a clan head.
"Tsk, so annoying," Bastien clicked his tongue, tilting his head and twisting his waist to look at his butt, where his pants seemed about to fall off. Oh, even his voice had changed, becoming more melodious to the ear.
"…Do you need a belt?"
"That would be appreciated, yes."
So, Jules unbuckled his and handed it to the demon. In all accounts, he needed it more than he did. Unlike Bastien, his angelic form thankfully didn't come with a bothersome tail.