Framed Part Eight

"Mates eternal?" Frederick nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Vivian's face. "Is there...more to it than just being mated forever?"

"Well..." He shrugged as he considered Vivian's question. "Yes and no."

His little witch’s nose crinkled. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I suppose it didn’t.” Frederick sighed and rolled onto his back, taking Vivian with him so that she rested on his chest. “I guess it’s a promise more than anything. A vow vampiric mates make to one another after mating for the first time. A promise that they’ll love one another eternally, even after their final death. My Aunt thought it was awfully romantic when she’d come across it one day while researching how best to care for me,” he explained, grinning softly at the memory. “She’d tell me, ‘Frederick, one day, when you find your mate eternal, you’ll thank me for all I’ve taught you’. Always thought it was a bunch of bullshit.” He shook his head and laughed. “That it was just her excuse to encourage me to do my chores. But,” Frederick glanced down into his mate's stormy eyes, “I guess the old woman was right.”

Vivian giggled. “That’s so sweet.” Closing her eyes, she quietly added, “I wish I could have met her.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod. “I do too.”

Frederick pushed a sigh out his nose, skimming his fingers idly up and down the side of Vivian’s neck. On each pass, his fingers would catch on the raised scars of his mark and that mass of energy behind his heart would pulse. Even after several days, the newness of the bond hadn’t faded. It felt like they had just mated only hours ago. He idly wondered if the feeling would ever dim over time, but he sincerely hoped that would never be the case. He wanted to float on these clouds for eternity.

“I love when you do that.”

Frederick blinked and looked down to find the side of Vivian’s face squished against his chest, her eyes still closed. “Do what?” he asked.

Her lips drew up into a smile. “Purr.”

Chuckling, Frederick told her, “Oh. I know.” His mate lifted her head in order to look at his face. “I’ve seen it.” His voice was smug and he knew it which only served to irritate his little witch.

“What do you mean you’ve ‘seen it’?”

“Exactly that - ow! Hey!” Frederick snatched Vivian’s wrists in both hands to prevent her from pinching his sides again. “No need to get pinchy!”

“Then tell me what you meant by that!” she huffed.

“Alright, alright! Relax. I’ll tell you.” Frederick trapped her arms between them by holding her to his chest. “I do mean exactly what I said. I know you love it when I purr because I’ve seen it - in your blood.”

Vivian was silent as she considered his words and then she asked, “In my blood?”

He hummed. “Yep. When a vampire feeds from the living source, we absorb their memories. Kind of a...catch twenty-two because the high of the blood and the rush of memories can be overwhelming. It’s why most unmated vampires feed out of blood banks.”

“So…” She paused as if thinking about what it was she wanted to say. “Is that why I’m having these dreams...of you?”

Frederick pulled back to look down at her. “Dreams?”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “I’ve been having dreams of you the last couple of nights. Are they memories?”

She was experiencing his memories as well? That was...unexpected to say the least.

“Is that...not...supposed to happen?” she asked, unsure by his lack of response.

“Umm… Not normally,” he answered slowly. “The viewing of memories is usually only something a vampire can do, but…”

“But what?”

Frederick scratched the back of his head as he said, “I mean, vampires won’t normally mate outside of their own kind, so...maybe it is normal for you to experience my memories as well. I just can’t say for certain.”

Vivian’s lips pursed as she thought it over for a moment before she simply shrugged. “I suppose it could be worse,” she said.

“Oh?”

“You could’ve been an ugly child - Ah!” She squealed as Frederick rolled her onto her back and smashed her between himself and the mattress.

“Oh! My little witch has jokes now, huh?” Her squeal cut off with a choked gasp as he dug a few knuckles into her ribs.

“F-Frederick!” she hollered, trying her best to squirm out from underneath him. “Stop i-it!”

Feeling rather playful, Frederick pressed his face into the crook of her neck and snuffled loudly.

“Ah! You weirdo! Knock it off!” Vivian managed to flip a hand over in between them and started to pinch him, nails and all.

When she caught him just right on the nipple, he yelped, lifting off of her. “Okay!” he laughed, sitting back on his knees and raising his hands up in surrender. “You win my feisty little witch.” Frederick fell forward to plant a firm kiss on her smug little grin before pulling back to tap her on the end of her nose. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I wanna stay in bed-.” Her stomach cut her off, rumbling rather loudly in protest.

He looked from her face to her stomach and back with a raised brow. “The gremlin in your stomach says otherwise.” Vivian rolled her eyes and gently shoved his face out of hers.

Chuckling, Frederick hopped off the bed and stretched. “Chocolate chip pancakes and bacon?” he asked as he tugged on a pair of sweats.

“Scrambled eggs too? Please.”

He glanced up to find his mate curled around his pillow, the sheet slung low on her hips and she was staring up at him with a softness to her eyes that he still wasn’t used to. And honestly, he didn’t think he ever would be either.

Frederick smiled and swooped down for another kiss. “Anything for you, my mate.”

She hummed in response, pressing forward for one more kiss and it was tempting - oh so tempting - to let her coax him back into bed, but her stomach warned him against it with another grumble.

“We’ll continue this after we’ve eaten,” he told her as he turned to head out of the bedroom.

A heavy, pleased sounding sigh drew his attention back to the bed. “What?” he asked.

Vivian had her head propped up on a hand, watching him with those shimmering, rainy-day eyes. “Nothing. My magic just looks good on you is all.”

“Is that right?” he asked with a grin, peering over his shoulder to look at his back in the dresser mirror.

He’d seen her mark hundreds of times in the last several days and it never ceased to amaze him. It was a rune the size of his palm and the color of her hair with arcs of red lightning dancing between the lines.

Frederick had asked her that first night what the rune meant and her answer had been a simple ‘me’. It had confused him for all of a few seconds until she’d touched her chest, directly over her heart, where the piece of his soul resided. He’d understood then that it was her; a piece of her magic now living inside of him.

“Hm. I think you might be right, little witch,” he agreed, tossing a wink at her.

She laughed, the full-bellied kind that sent her backward onto the bed with her hand clutching her stomach. Shaking his head, a smile affixed firmly to his face, Frederick left her to her amusement to start on breakfast. Well - he glanced out the window and through the trees to the setting sun - a late breakfast anyway.

As he crossed the living room and entered the kitchen, he heard Vivian huff and drag herself out of bed, cursing at the cold as she hurried to the bathroom. Frederick laughed and shook his head as he mindlessly began to gather the ingredients he needed from the fridge and pantry. With everything pulled out and on the counter, he began to heat a pan for the bacon when movement from the corner of the counter caught his eye.

The loaf of bread he hadn’t realized he’d left out was wriggling about, rustling and squeaking as it did. Snorting a laugh, Frederick picked up the plastic bag and tipped it upside down. A white weasel toppled out onto his back with his hair standing on end and a floppy slice of bread hanging from his jaws.

“Couldn’t wait for us, huh?”

With narrowed eyes and a twitching nose, Slink rolled over onto his paws and scurried off the counter and into the living room with his chosen meal.

Frederick shrugged as he greased the pan and dropped a few slices of bacon into it. “Suit yourself weasel.”

“Who’re you calling a weasel?” His mate asked as she wandered into the kitchen.

With the spatula he’d just grabbed, Frederick pointed to the couch where he could hear Slink behind it, nibbling away at his bread. “Your weasel.”

“He is a Mink,” she reminded him. “As I’ve told you many times.” She gave him a pointed look before moving around him to crack some eggs into a bowl.

“I’m pretty sure,” he said, leaning against the counter to watch her, “that they’re the same thing.”

Vivian just shook her head and ignored him as she began to whisk the eggs, pouring in a dab of milk as she did so. When she finished, she went to the sink to rinse off her hands and then wiped them off on the sweater she'd stolen from his closet.

"So," she began after getting another pan and placing it on the stove. "Now what?"

Frederick moved beside her so that he could flip the bacon. "What do you mean?"

“Well, I mean, now that you can see my memories, you know that I’m one hundred percent innocent.” Vivian paused to melt some butter in her pan before pouring in the eggs. “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, find your partner and tell him?”

In his shock, Frederick nearly knocked over the pan, catching it just in time before he could spill hot grease all over their feet. “Um, well, that’s…” He took a calming breath then said, “That’s not a good idea. They wouldn’t believe me.”

“But… He’s your partner,” she muttered. “Isn’t there...some way for them to see what you’ve seen?”

Frederick thought her question over as he plated the bacon and then switched out pans to start on the pancakes. He had the batter and chocolate chips all mixed and the first pancake on the stove before he answered. “There...is a way, but...it isn’t possible.”

“Why not?”

He grimaced. “It’s a vampire council thing.” Frederick flipped the pancake in his pan over. “To come to a fair decision the council will ingest the blood of both the accused and the accuser. It’s how they ensure a just sentencing as well as a lack of crime between the covens. But -,” he paused to take a breath, plating the one pancake and pouring more batter into the pan. “That’s strictly a council thing. They don’t allow it outside council hearings, and they certainly wouldn’t do it for a half-breed. So,” he shrugged, “not only can I not go to my own kind for help, I’m considered a biased and corrupted source to the P.I.U.”

And there was that feeling of utter uselessness once more. The mated bliss of the last several days had allowed him to forget, even for a short while, just what kind of trouble they were in. He found himself cursing his kind in every language he knew. For the second time in his life, all of his problems could be solved by the council made up of his own kind; if only they would get their heads out of their asses.

“So we’re...stuck then?” Vivian asked, her voice strained.

Frederick didn’t know what to say or how to comfort her, he couldn’t even meet her eyes, so he instead finished readying her breakfast and turned off the burners. He then picked up her plate and set it on the kitchen table.

“You should eat,” he murmured, indicating she should sit.

It took her a moment but Vivian eventually shuffled over to the table and sat in the chair he’d pulled out for her. She picked up her fork and twirled it a bit between her fingers before stabbing a fluffy piece of egg with it. As she shoved the bite into her mouth, Frederick crouched down beside her and pressed his lips against the patch of skin just under her ear.

“I’ll figure something out,” he whispered, “just like I promised you.” As much as he meant those words, they were beginning to sound empty.

How many times had he promised her this? That he’d figure it out. That he’d prove her innocence. And how much closer was he to figuring this out? To fulfilling that promise to her? Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere closer than he’d been at the start.

He found himself thinking, again, that whoever had done this, whoever had set Vivian up, had taken every measure they could to make sure she’d be found guilty one way or another.

At this point...At this point, there was only one option really - they’d have to hide away until running was the only option.

Frederick withheld a bitter laugh. What a life he had in store for his mate, running and hiding for all eternity. It was pathetic. He was pathetic as well as unworthy and unfit to be Vivian’s mate.

He - That train of thought derailed and Frederick cocked his head to the side, turning his ear towards the living room. What was that? It sounded almost like - fuck!

“Vivian!” He hissed, motioning for her to get up.

“Frederick?” she questioned. “What is it -?” The front door exploded, the sound deafening even from the kitchen. “Frederick?!” Vivian cried, jumping to her feet.

“We gotta go!” he yelled, slinging his arm around her waist and pushing her out of the kitchen.

She stumbled the first few steps, her nails digging into his forearm to keep herself steady. “Wait! Where’s Slink? Slink?!”

There was a muffled squeak from somewhere in the direction of the couch and Frederick told her, “Don’t worry! He’ll be fine! He’s hiding!”

“But-!”

“He’ll be alright! But we’ve gotta - oh hell.” They stood, frozen, as a glass ball came rolling through the hole in the front wall and across the splintered remains of the door, a deep purple liquid sloshing about inside it. “Nightshade Orb.”

Frederick fell over the top of Vivian, shoving the both of them to the floor just as the glass shattered. He curled his lip over a fang as tiny shards embedded into his back and purple smoke filled the room. The smell was so sickeningly sweet that he gagged, his eyes watering. Vivian almost immediately began to gasp for air underneath him, her heart fluttering erratically. The nightshade wouldn’t really bother him, but Vivian… Nightshade was made to put witches out of commission.

“I, I can’t, can’t breathe!” she gasped, clutching at his sides.

“I know,” he told her. “I know.” Frederick took the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her face, covering her nose. “Slow, shallow breaths, okay? I’ve got you.” He scooped her up into his arms and began to rise to his feet when a familiar voice gave him pause.

“Freddie.”

Frederick straightened up the rest of the way but didn’t turn around. “Borris.”

“Took us a great while ta find yeh.” His partner stepped into the living room, the wood crunching underneath his heavy steps.

“You weren’t supposed to at all.”

Borris snorted, the sound dry and unamused. “I ‘magine we weren’t.”

“What’re your men waiting outside for?” he asked unnecessarily.

“Was ‘opin’ t’ey’d be useless, t’at yeh’d listen ta reason.” The old orc sighed. “So, what’s it goin’ ta be, Freddie?”

Frederick sucked in a deep breath, grimacing at the sweet taste on the back of his tongue, and clutched Vivian as close as he could. “I think you know how this is gonna go, old friend.”

“T’ought so.”

With a low whistle, the other agents he’d heard on the porch fell in behind Borris, their guns drawn. Through the sweet-smelling smoke, he caught the underlying taste of sewage and decay. Frederick snarled. Damn them… He should’ve known they’d have brought those along - bullets coated in dead man’s blood.

Frederick bent his lips to Vivian’s ear and whispered, “Hold on.”

Her hands were shaky but slid up around his neck nonetheless. His poor mate was wheezing at this point, her entire body trembling with the exertion it took her to breathe. He needed to get her out of here… Now.

Without sparing a glance at the men behind him, Frederick took off towards the hallway. He had just crossed the threshold when the first bullet pierced his lower left side. The second managed to catch his left shoulder and he snarled as he fell into the wall, barely managing to stay upright. That was much too close to Vivian’s head for his liking.

“Stop t’is, Freddie! I ain’t ever known yeh ta be so stupid!” Borris hollered at him.

“I could say the same for you!” he roared back.

Frederick adjusted Vivian in his arms, ignoring the clammy sheen of sweat beginning to bead up on every inch of his skin and the queasy feeling in his stomach. Move - he needed to keep moving. So, he forced his leaden feet forward, dragging his shoulder along the wall for support. The only way out was down this hallway; he just needed to get them there.

Another bullet struck him in the back.

“ENOUGH!” Borris growled as he dropped to his knees. “We need ta immobilze ‘im, not kill ‘im!”

Might be a little too late for that, Frederick thought darkly.

He could already feel the dead blood sluggishly eating away at his flesh. It wasn’t nearly as painful as he had expected it to be, but it certainly itched enough for him to want to claw out chunks of skin. The increasingly maddening sensation continued to spread and crawl across his skin and into his flesh until it just...stopped along the edges of his back. It was then that he could feel a tingling warmth along his sides and shoulders, a comforting sort of electricity that burned from in between his shoulder blades. Vivian… The magic of her mark was protecting him. The best it could anyway. But it didn’t stop the exhaustion from dragging him the rest of the way to the floor.

“F-Frederick?” Vivian whimpered, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

He shushed her, shifting her underneath him so that he shielded most, if not all, of her. “It’ll be...okay,” he ground out. “I’ve...got you.” Frederick pressed his cheek to hers and purred, the sound choppy and low. His mate choked out a sob and turned her trembling lips to his jaw. He tried to repeat the words, tell her that he had her and it would all end up okay, but he just couldn’t get them out.

“Freddie…” Borris sighed as he came up behind him. “What ‘ave yeh gone and done ta yerself?”

His partner's rough, calloused hands grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him off of Vivian, who weakly cried out as they were separated. It sounded like she was telling them not to touch him, to leave them alone, but he could barely hear her quiet, strained voice through the cotton in his ears.

“Get ‘er in cuffs,” Borris instructed an agent as he cuffed Frederick himself.

“D-Don’t...t-touch, touch…” The words got stuck in his throat so he settled for a rather pathetic sounding snarl.

“T’at’ll be enough now, Freddie.” The old orc pulled Frederick to his feet and supported most of his weight when his legs wouldn’t. “Yer in a world o’ trouble already. Let’s not -.” One of the agents interrupted Borris, calling for his attention. “What - Oh ‘ell. What did yeh do yeh crazy bastard?”

There was a pregnant pause before someone asked, “What do we do?”

“Same as before just-.” He sighed and clucked his tongue. “Just be extremely careful, ya?” Borris then began to drag Frederick down the hallway towards the front room. “I can’t believe yeh, yeh half-bred moron,” he growled lowly in his ear. “Goin’ and matin’ ta woman! A murder suspect! I can’t-!” He cut off with a disbelieving scoff.

As Borris continued to grumble expletives under his breath, Frederick focused on the piece of Vivian within his chest. It was a mite colder than it should have been and was roiling in panic. He pushed as much comfort and love through the bond as his fogged-up mind could muster, telling her without words that it would be okay; that they would be okay.

Now, he just had to figure out a way to make that the truth.