Blood Donations

Fandom: Chrno Crusade

Author: Max

Rating: R for a bit too many F-bombs

As she pressed herself against the wall of boxes, shutting her eyes against the flash grenade that she unpinned and tossed behind her, Rosette had always knew that her partner, Chrono, was always a bit…different.

As a warm body pressed against her side, a hand on her denim-clad leg and a whisper of “Sorry, I’m late,” did she figure out just how different.

She had never given the idea that he was a true demon any real thought except that he was real, he was Chrono, he was hers because he said so.

Oh yeah, and he’s fucking gorgeous, she mentally supplied, because even over the din of screaming and gunfire, anything she whispered can and probably would be heard.

And exploited once they returned to the quiet haven of the Order.

Waiting for a pause in the racket, Rosette took the opportunity to see if the flash grenade had done its job.

The sound of thirty-five AK-47s cocking simultaneously by guys wearing sunglasses facing her told her otherwise.

She. Was. An. Idiot.

“Hands up where we can see ‘em, Sister,” one of the goons commanded, his weapon moving with his gestures. “Are you stupid enough to be alone?”

“I’m loony enough to get caught if that’s what you’re asking,” she shot back.

Chrono smacked his forehead silently from his position on the floor. Granted that the guys had no idea that he was there, but wait–

The distinct sound of the hammer being pulled set him screaming “ROSETTE!”

Someone fired.

Rosette felt something slam into her chest, sending her sailing backwards into a stack of boxes where her world went dark.

“Rosette!” He screamed once more, before crawling over to his fallen partner and glaring at the goons. “Rosette, talk to me,” he pleaded to the unconscious young woman as fire-red eyes caught the glisten of something wet on his partner’s shoulder. A whimper rose as he knocked away a box off of her only to shrug off his jacket. Gently wrapping the jacket around her, he tied the sleeves together and stood.

All hell broke loose.

A growl rose from the young man facing the crew as they felt the warehouse’s floor start to shake.

It wasn’t an earthquake.

The Bronx didn’t have earthquakes.

“How dare you,” he rumbled as he took a slow step toward the closest guy.

Lighting cracked outside as the air inside the space gained an electric charge that everyone felt.

“How dare you harm her,” he questioned as human teeth lengthened into fangs, his ears stretching into elven shapes.

“What the fuck are you?” The guy shouted before a clawed hand reached out and crushed his larynx.

The rest of the crew heard the bones cracking as the wind picked up, the shaking grew more severe and they could feel the lightning striking outside.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” cried one of the gangsters, watching as the purple-haired…thing darted for another member.

Half of the warehouse went up as a stray gunshot hit a tank of gasoline, igniting it and washing the entire warehouse in orange and yellow light.

A scream from the demon sent the crowd running to any visible exit, anything to get away from the monster sprouting wings there in front of them.

Glaring red eyes focused on no one but the young woman laying too close to smoldering boxes didn’t even see the bodies going up in flames as the fire spread to the other tanks, trapping everyone within the warehouse.

The full demon Chrono paid no mind to the guy begging for help, nor did he mind kicking the low-life aside, grinning when he heard the other’s bones shatter on impact. Nothing on his mind except to kneel and gather up the unconscious woman at his feet into his arms.

Once he was finished, he spread his wings to launch himself skyward. The movement only fanned the flames as they followed their pair through the roof only to fail to reach the two as Chrono came to rest in the street below.

The heat of the explosion didn’t bother him as the warehouse erupted entirely in flame.

~*~*~

“Rosette! Chrono!” A heavily-accented vice rang out above the sirens and authorities milling around the area. “Where the blazes are you?”

“Father Remington,” a male called from a nearby ambulance.

Thirty-five year old Ewan Remington found himself with a half-sealed, very singed and half-red Chrono. “Where’s Rosette,” he immediately asked.

To which Chrono replied dryly, “I’m fine, Father. Thanks for asking. She’s asleep in the car where I left her.”

“Are you both in one piece?” The blond looked at the blood-covered hands of the young man (demon?) and then the tired, worried looks reflected in the inhuman red eyes.

“Yeah,” Chrono sighed, deflating as an EMT finished on the bandage on his arm. “I lost it, Father.”

Ewan sat down next to the purple-haired young man, barely missing the gurney that went by with a charred husk of what was left of one of the gangsters. “Well, not nearly as much as they have, Chrono.” Gentle hands unwrapped what gauze was in front of him to survey the damage. “Tell me what happened?”

“Some bastard shot Rosette.” Chrono growled lowly, his eyes turning away from the Father and seeking out the car that they arrived in.

Remington yanked on the gauze harshly. “I thought you said she was fine.”

He didn’t miss the murderous glare and the fanged grin in his direction.

“She is fine. You think I can’t take care of my own partner? Those filthy hands of yours aren’t going anywhere near her, understood, Father?”

Well, that certainly pressed a nerve. The blond minister swiftly finished the bandage and flung a handkerchief at Chrono. “Now just get that blood off before you come back to the Order. And call if you need anything at all.”

Chrono sniffed at his shoulder, only to gag at the smell of burnt flesh before walking away.

~*~*~

Rosette was standing against the car’s side, peeling away her shirt to reveal the blood-packs and the bullet-proof vest beneath. “So disgusting.”

“Didn’t you donate blood about two weeks ago?” Chrono appeared in his usual fashion, out of nowhere, poking at one of the exploded packets. “Because it certainly smells like yours.”

“Gotta’ love that Elder for his creativity. Help me out of this, will you?” She made a motion to gag before turning her back to the violet-haired devil.

He answered by unlacing the vests and tracing a finger up her semi-bare back.

Rosette spun with an indignant “gah” before facing him in her soaked, translucent tank top.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he had to admit that Rosette plus see-through clothing was quite agreeable with him. Especially since parts of her were more awake than others.

She looked utterly delicious.

Delicious indeed, his mind supplied before a finger flicked out and grazed an erect nipple through her shirt, sending the young woman into a hard blush and “will you at least WAIT until we get back before going on your pervert sprees?!”

“And miss this sight,” Chrono dared to act indignant on his own behalf before taking the jacket that she had shed earlier and draping it over her shoulders, a barrier for the both of them. “Never,” he drawled, his lips vibrating against her ear.

She wanted to kill him.