Changing Fortunes

Part 12

The next time Cam saw Angelo he was gonna kick his ass in once and for all. He’d die doing it but at least he could inflict as much damage as possible before then.

But now he had to deal with this.

Cam had never felt so terrified in his life. Not because he was trapped in a room with someone who wanted to kill him. He didn't want to die of course, but that didn’t even enter the equation.

He was more scared of losing Balint to something that he himself had nothing to do with. Cam had been such an asshole to Balint, had taken him for granted, never really considered his feelings and now it was too late. Either Balint would go insane from the hunger that was rapidly consuming him or Angelo would "save" him the same way he saved Weasel. Either way, Cam would lose him. This was finally one thing he couldn't fix and that was what frustrated him the most.

Then he saw the straight razor on Angelo's night table next to Balint and recognized that maybe he could fix things after all.

Cam stepped inside Angelo's room and quietly closed the door. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly.

Balint stared at him, wild-eyed. "This isn't a game, Cameron."

"I know." Cam walked over to the night table and grabbed the straight razor. "And I know what you need. Let me give it to you."

"If you really want to give me what I need, hand over the razor so I can just slit my wrists and end this the easy way."

Cam smiled. "Can't let you do that."

"You're still only thinking of yourself," Balint said in a tired voice. "And you're only making it harder for me. Just do us both a favor and leave. It's for the best. I've already arranged everything to make it easier for you."

As usual, Balint was right. Cam wanted to help Balint for selfish reasons. But this time he wasn't sorry. And he was not gonna back away. "There's nothing to arrange because I'm not leaving you, dumbass."

"Sarin's being taken care of, so you'll have enough money to never have to work again," Balint told Cam as if he hadn't heard what he just said. "You can have the ammo and the bag of tricks. You can also have the Tarot deck. I never needed it anyway."

Cam stared at Balint. "What do you mean you never needed the Tarot deck? You lied about all those fortunes you told? I know you lied to the suckers, but you always told me what those cards really said. Are you telling me now that what you said were lies?"

Balint laughed but there was no humor in it. "At this point, does it really matter?"

"Yes!" Because if he lied about that, Cam was beginning to wonder what else Balint lied about.

"No. I'm telling you that I only used the Tarot deck the same way other people use runes or other things of that nature. It channels the power, but if I wanted to, I could far-see without the deck. It's not as clear or lucid but if I have to, I can do it." Balint's explanation was sharp, his words biting, as if he shouldn't have to explain all this.

"You're a precog?" Cam asked in complete shock, wanting desperately for Balint to say no.

"A precognitive clairvoyant? Yes."

Surprise quickly gave way to anger. "So all this time, you could have just seen the future? You could have saved us a lot of grief and now you're just telling me this?"

"I didn't because there was too much risk."

"Risk of what? Shit, Balint, you could have used that Gift of yours to make the money you always wanted so badly, surely you could have known that."

"Risk of being found, Cameron. I've been on the run from the School of the Gifted for the past five years. They don't like it when you leave them."

Cam knew all about the School of the Gifted. They recruited the cream of the crop; Supes with abilities they knew would be useful and telepaths with power much greater than the average. They provided training to these teenagers in exchange for their agreement to serve in the military. They also encouraged sex as soon as they hit puberty in the hopes that they'd breed even more powerful kids.

"So you were lying to me the whole time, Balint? You're not a Gypsy, you're just a refugee?"

"I am a Gypsy," Balint declared in that quiet way of his. "I just never told you that I'm also a runaway from the School." He abruptly tensed, his breath ragged. "You have shitty timing," he gasped through gritted teeth

If Cam was a good person who really cared about Balint, he'd have dropped all this, and offered himself to his partner. But as many things as Cam was, altruistic wasn't one of them and finding out that Balint had this secret life that he'd kept from Cam for the three years they were together had made him even less so. "Who the fuck are you, Balint? Really. Tell me who the fuck you are!"

Balint sighed. "I knew you'd react like this."

"What the hell did you expect?" Something suddenly occurred to him. "Do they know?"

"Who?" Balint snapped.

"You know fucking well 'who.' Is that what Szabo means?"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that," Cam mimicked.

"If you're talking about Weasel or Angelo, no, they don't know about my far-sight."

And suddenly, Balint was calm. Rational. His usual self. Cam hated him for it. "Fine. What does Szabo mean, Balint?"

"It's me. I'm Szabo."

"So Balint isn't your real name? It's Szabo?" Cam asked, knowing and hating how accusatory he sounded.

"Not quite," Balint demurred. "It's not that simple."

"No? Then why don't you explain it to me."

"I'm Razvan," Balint began.

His last name. "I know or was that a lie too?"

"I never lied to you, Cam," Balint said wearily.

"But you've been telling me half-truths all this time."

"Not really. Szabo is part of Razvan."

Cam was losing his patience. "You're making no sense at all!"

Balint's eyes suddenly narrowed. "What do you know, anyway? Who told you?" Balint's eyes flew to Cam's neck and lingered there for a moment before he shook his head. "I can guess," he muttered.

That was Balint; always making it a point to find out what cards were in someone else's hand without revealing any of his own. A tactic he constantly used on marks and clients. And Cam.

Not tonight. Cam didn't bother to confirm or deny Balint's suspicions. "Cut the crap and tell me what the hell you're talking about, Balint."

"It's not important," Balint told him dismissively. "It will mean nothing to you. Don't worry about it."

"Then you'll tell me, won't you."

Balint shrugged. "I'm Szabo."

"Yeah, we already established that."

"Angelo and Dimitri are Argyra," Balint answered as if that was an explanation. "Jacques, I mean Weasel," he corrected, "is Baptiste. So is his uncle Ardoin."

Cam raised an eyebrow. "As in Ardoin Beauduget, the head of this outfit?"

"As in Ardoin Baptiste Beauduget, the Broodmaster who also happens to be the head of the Underground and the owner of the Nocturne."

"And a Broodmaster is?"

"Think of him as the king."

"The king of the Underground?"

"The king of Sangsue," Balint said, using the word that Cam had hoped would never come out of his partner's mouth.

"Which would make Weasel what, the prince?" Cam asked sarcastically.

Balint flashed him an exasperated look. "You asked, Cam. And you might as well hand over the razor. If I wanted that from you, I'd have taken it weeks ago."

Chills crawled up Cam's spine at the offhanded tone of Balint's words. "Weeks ago? Fuck, Balint, how long has this been going on?"

"Two, maybe three weeks."

Cam blinked." How did you manage to keep this from me for all this time?"

"I didn't keep it from you, Cam. You just never noticed." Balint replied without rancor. "You're completely self-centered in that regard." It wasn't an accusation or even an insult. It was just a statement of fact. "When I couldn't eat anymore I just told you I was sick and you accepted it without even thinking twice."

The knowledge that Balint was able to use Cam's selfishness to his advantage made Cam more than uneasy. "So, you've been… drinking blood for the past three weeks?" Cam asked as calmly as he could.

"On and off." Balint gave him a look of irritation. "Look, Cameron. You asked me for the truth and I’m telling it to you. If you don't like what I'm telling you then leave. Don't do me any favors."

"Is that what you want, Balint? For me to go so you can be with Angelo?"

"No," Balint said softly. "I want you to want me. Not as a possession. Not to fuck Angelo over. I want you to love me and you never will."

"Oh? Then why am I here, Balint?"

"To take back what you think is your property, only you didn't mark me like Baptiste marked you."

So that was what the marking meant. He was Weasel's property. Something suddenly came to Cam's mind. Balint was Szabo. Szabo knew what marking stood for. Szabo had been going through Maturity for three weeks and managed to hide it from Cam. Which meant Szabo hadn't just learned all about this last night.

"You knew what you were all along," Cam accused. "Didn't you?"

Balint glared at him. "What do you care? You were in no danger and it had nothing to do with you."

Balint's words and the pain behind them stabbed at Cam's heart like the razor he held in his hand. "Do you really think that Angelo cares about you more? If he cared, he wouldn't have left you here to starve while he's fucking around with someone else."

As if on cue, Balint doubled over, his body shaking. "And if you cared you'd drop the subject," he hissed, panting. "I don't have the patience or the desire to continue this conversation, Cam. I'm a little too busy for that."

Cam helplessly watched his partner writhing in agony. "If you won't take my blood, why don't you just take someone else's? Isn't that what you've been doing up until now?"

Balint took a long shuddering breath, his convulsions ceasing for the moment. "I've tried, Cam. I can only drink a little before I get violently sick. Angelo was eating for two, then feeding me for most of the night. I can drink more because it's broken down already but it gets… absorbed too fast."

Cam knew Balint was not in the mood to answer more questions but this was one question he needed the answer to. "Did you know what I was? Was that why you chatted me up in the first place?"

"Cammie, if it makes you feel any better, I seduced you because I wanted you." For a moment, Balint was like his old self again, brandishing that impish grin of his. "If you remember that night, baby, I had other things on my mind besides your bloodline."

"But you knew."

The smile vanished. "Have I ever told you that you obsess over the dumbest things, Cam?"

Distract and dismiss. Balint's way of throwing off suspicion. It was almost a relief to see the wily blond up to his old tricks. "Try again, Balint. Answer my question. Did you know?"

Balint suddenly drew in a sharp breath, clutching at his belly. "Yes, as soon as I touched you," he retorted, "are you happy now?"

Cam wasn't done. "Did you know about Weasel and Angelo?"

"I wasn't sure right away; I thought my senses were playing tricks on me."

"But you figured out they weren't?"

"I didn't meet Weasel until later, but with Angelo, all doubts were erased with his kiss."

That was something Cam didn't need to or want to hear. "Why? Was it that good?" he asked, his tone dripping acid.

But then again, Cam could answer that himself, couldn't he?

Balint laughed at Cam's jealousy. "That had nothing to do with it, Cam. It was the teeth I felt in his mouth. Both him and Weasel. I knew what they were the second I felt them."

The teeth that Weasel's tongue had guided Cam's own tongue away from.

"And do you have them now?"

Balint grimaced. "If I did, would I need a fucking razor?"

That must be the other part of Balint's Maturity that wasn't going right. "Angelo can't feed you forever, Balint."

"No, he can't. But I can't go on like this for much longer, Cameron." Balint said in a flat voice.

"So that's it then, isn't it?" Cam asked angrily. "He ever so conveniently offers to fix you up when you're at your most vulnerable and you go to him."

Balint took a deep breath that seemed to take all of his effort. "I understand you're mad, Cam. You have a right to be. And I'm not surprised that you hate me for getting you mixed up in all this."

"I don't hate you, Balint. I hate the fucking bastard that is playing with your life."

"Calm down, baby," Balint said softly, "There's no need to be so upset."

Balint's voice was soothing, calming and despite himself Cam felt himself relaxing. "I just don't want to lose you to him," he whispered.

"You're not losing me to anyone," Balint replied in that same caressing way of talking that sooner or later always unruffled Cam's feathers no matter how hard he tried to stay mad.

Or sometimes even remember why he was mad in the first place.

"Don't worry," Balint crooned, "it will all work out."

How could Balint say that and say it so convincingly? Shit, with that silky tone, it was no wonder that he was the one who dealt with clients and ran most of their schemes. A honeyed voice that could persuade someone that white was black.

Or make them believe anything he wanted them to.

Including Cam.

Like grains of sand, the thought abruptly slipped through his fingers, it was almost gone.

Wait.

Cam reached out with mental tendrils, grasping the thought before it left him completely just like it had all those other times he'd had it.

Not that often. It didn't happen that often. It was just whenever he felt manipulated by Balint. The thought that maybe Balint's persuasion wasn't just talking.

But that was crazy.

Wasn't it?

"It's in your voice," Cam finally realized. "You hypnotize that way."

He was hoping that by saying it aloud, speaking of his fear, Balint would just brush it away and tell him he was imagining things.

No.

Balint sighed. "It helps cement things but the truth is I really don't need it at all once I nudge someone's will."

"And you've been controlling me ever since we met?"

He cradled his head in his hands. "Please Cam, my head is pounding. Can you stop being so paranoid?"

"If I don't, then what?" Cam challenged viciously, "Will you 'nudge' me into acting however you want me to?"

"Ye gods and little fishes!" Balint exclaimed rolling his eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that if I was controlling you like you seem to imply I was, you wouldn't have the free will to sleep around as much as you do? Cam, the only time I ever nudged you was when you were getting too close to a truth that would only get you hurt. And it's not like I can do it all that often even if I wanted to, it gives me wicked migraines."

"What truth did you need to protect me from that could possibly justify you fucking with my head like that?"

"Do you know how I ended up at the School for the Gifted, Cam?"

"They recruited you. They recruit anyone with potential."

"My family sold me to them." Balint's voice held no emotion at all. "They had no choice because if they didn't sell me, the School was going to send all of the children to Workcamps and kill the adults. But the joke was on my family. I found out later that the day after they sold me, the WASP drones came and slaughtered everyone."

All of the anger and betrayal Cam had felt completely left him as he saw the pain in Balint's hazel eyes. Completely forgetting about his own safety, Cam rushed over to Balint and took him into his arms. "They'll pay for that," he promised, kissing Balint's hair. "But that's why you wanted the money so bad. You wanted to be rich enough that we'd never have to surface and we'd be safe from detection."

"If Szabo had stayed pureblooded and didn't breed with Razvan, they wouldn't have been taken down so easily. But they'd been mixing it up with one another since they were in the Old Country and they never stood a chance."

Now Cam understood. Szabo was Balint's bloodline. "You knew what you were from the very beginning."

"It's a little more complicated than that. Because the bloodline was so bastardized, it was a crapshoot, kiddo. My bloodline is a little less diluted because my mom was a halfblood which was more than most of Szabo. My father was Razvan with a little Sangsue blood. That meant the chances were pretty good that I'd go through Maturity but they weren't definite. A lot of Szabo is like you, all of the perks without any of the pain. About three weeks ago, I found out I wasn't, but things have really deteriorated since I met the two boys, probably because their blood is speeding up my Maturity."

Balint's body abruptly stiffened, his body trembling, it was happening again. "And so is your blood. Damn it," he hissed. "you'd better let go of me before I do something I'm not completely sure I don't want to do anymore."

Cam shivered, not because Balint's muscles were tensing to spring and his grip had tightened, but because even though the words weren't exactly the same, somehow the meaning behind them was eerily familiar.

Similar words had been uttered by Weasel the night before. Just after he stopped himself from killing Cam.

<< Chapter 11 Chapter 13 >>

Last updated 10/08/03

Back to Main