Tonight was not a changing night. The moon, near full, wasn’t evoking the inner beast, and though Gareth and his kind could shirk their humanity for the rage within at will, at least most of the could, tonight didn’t carry the need on the wind. The moon hung high above, corpse white in the darkness of the night, a pearl amongst the heavens, dusted with diamonds. It was upon this backdrop that he had first saw her, leaping from a perch atop of the Hotel to one of the outer balconies, and then again, dropping victim into the river as she fled, a heartless and cold killer. Obviously vampire, by the speed and agility, obviously freshly fed by the thrashing of the body as it sank beneath the currents of the river, its body mourning the loss of the spirit with a violent rage. 

Adversity sat aside, Gareth steps away from the party, away from the crowd here to celebrate and enjoy life, and out towards the grove of trees that surrounded three sides of this hotel. Undoubtedly she’d have come to ground nearest the river, her angled ascent and projected descent would land her near there, but the question would be would she linger/? In that split second that his reflexes caught sight of her, would she have seen him as well? Would she know what he was, providing he offered no feat of strength or change to alert her. But he saw, that alone may be enough. At a jog, he passed through to the trees, careful of his jacket and the low lying branches as he passed through the brush into the trees beside the river. A deep breath and her scent was his, the smell of fresh blood mixed with the aroma of Vampire caught him, mingled with the sweet smell of something unknown to him, possibly a flower, or the essence of some form of berry. Alcohol. He could smell it all lingering about the wind, and towards the smell he went. 

And then he found her amongst a pool of silver light, the black of her sleeveless top and pants adorned with silver glow from the moon’s radiance. She stood amongst it as though almost in taunt, did she know he was there? Had she observed, in that split second, that he had caught notice, moved to touch to quickly in response to something out of the corner of his eye. Had she felt, in that flash of an instance, Lycan blood pouring through the inner most chambers of his strong heart. Master and slave. Did she believe in the old hierarchies, lived them? She was astonishing, a brilliant in form and nature that he could not ignore. She was a goddess, one could see it in her face, an aged immortal, and he nothing more than a humble pup, nothing more than his father’s son. 

And in the moment, to explain himself, he found no words. No reason to why he chased through the woods seeking her out, no reason or rhyme to his actions. His black jacket, wool and heavy due to the cold weather, bore tears and brambles, his polished shoes, covered in a layer of dirt from the ground. Damp leaves stuck to the bottoms of his shoes, and carried with him as he stepped forward, closer to the edge of the silvery light. She was beautiful, a radiant dream standing flesh and blood before him, and she was a killer. A jeweled dagger, ornate and dangerous. His eyes fixated on her lips, and for a moment he wondered the message behind their curl: warning or humor? 

“Lovely night tonight, hmmm?” Gareth spoke, blinking his eyes as through in surprise at himself, like someone awakening from a trance. He felt endangered, he felt the prang of excitement he always did before the beast was called from the cage within. Even now, the scent of her blood caused him to rattle at the door, beg to be freed, but he felt he would regret such an action. He felt destiny, felt the call of the moonless night whispering peace into him. He felt placated, docile. 

But he felt alive…