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The late night hours dragged on longer than expected, but perhaps that was fortuitous as the woman continued to pace her apartment thinking aloud through all that had transpired hours before; the seed of paranoia sowing discord and despair in her mind. A Glock 22 was held firmly in her hand, giving at least some reassurance that whatever came at her next could be easily dispatched by the firearm. The woman just couldn’t tell what was real anymore. But it wasn’t enough to be plagued by memories that didn’t always feel like her own, as though she were attempting to wake from the most wicked of dreams. No, as the Curse of Caine flowed through her veins, continuing to breakdown whatever vestiges of mortality remained, Nicole could hear voices -and to a certain extent- see vague impressions of ethereal figures walking to and fro as though they were simply passing by on their way to another wall of the bedroom. What was that all about? Was it even normal?
“Normal...” The woman mumbled to herself, allowing a brief chuckle to slip through her lips, shaking her head at such odd concepts. Normalcy seemed to have left a long time ago.
What was that? She wondered, sniffing the air, as a heightened sense of smell kicked in, noticing something new permeating within the apartment. A scent that had not been there before in fact, but was ever-present nonetheless. It was foreign, yet vaguely familiar.
Nicole stopped her pacing for a few moments to pinpoint just
where it was coming from, and slowly she stepped out of the bedroom and down the hallway, the coolness of the tiled floor hitting the bottoms of her bare feet. The further down the hallway, the stronger the scent, although far from offensive, but rather, quite pleasant. Certainly nothing the woman had experienced in her own home. And then she stopped just at the mouth of the hallway, raising the firearm up and out toward the unknown. Hair freshly trimmed down to the scalp, and still wrapped in a lavender bath towel from chest to just above her thigh, Nicole held the pistol toward the shadowy figure who sat as calm as could be in the leather armchair situated in the middle of the living room.
“Hey there.”
Nicole stood frozen for a moment, her eyes breaking through the dimness of the ambient light which spilled into the room, and only then did she realize who the figure was.
“Eva?” Nicole cocked her, simultaneously lowering the firearm to her side. “But how did you- ?”
The black leather jacket made the slightest sound as her body stirred just-so in the accent chair of the modest sized Los Angeles apartment, moving to the edge of the seat instead of leaning her body comfortably back into the chair. At Nicole’ shock, the 5th Generation Toreador simply smiled in response.
“You were stalked by a vampire. That vampire turned you into a vampire. That vampire was met with final death. That’s the report I got from several sources; one of which being very big, tall, and furry--like a werewolf. Ringing any bells?”
“That won’t help you.” It was a whisper so soft that had Eva’s lips not been nearly pressed against Nicole’s ear the fledgling vampire would have missed it. Nicole’s body seized, and allowed a half-swallowed gasp, as she saw with her own eyes Eva standing impossibly close to her after she was sitting in the chair across the living room just beats before.
“Speed is a specialty of mine. Your Glock might as well be a clumsy Nerf gun, for all the good it would do you against a vampire like me.”
Luckily for you, there aren’t that many Kindred like me. If there are any Kindred like me.The smile returned to her Eva’s face, softer in expression accompanied with a tone of voice that was warm and friendly, both hands held up palms out at Nicole. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to fight you. I’m here because you have no idea what’s going on. I’m here because in that bar weeks ago I noticed the vampire stalking you; I thought one night in the future you might need a friend. So I gave you the card.”
She was standing now, having “teleported”, or so it would seem to Nicole, from sitting in the chair to whispering in Nicole’s ear right next to her to now standing behind the chair she had originally been sitting in. Finally her hands came down, retreating into the pockets of the stylized leather jacket she wore. “We’ll have to fake your death, you’ll have to leave this apartment…” Eva’s eyes waited until Nicole’s eyes met hers, before letting slip the hardest truth of it, “Your mortal life is over. You have to leave it behind, now. You have to walk away from it. If you don’t you will die.”
”Mortal life...”Those two works repeated several times on an endless loop in her head, like it really meant anything to her. So much was said in a short span of time from the other woman that Nicole’s mind was on the brink of spinning completely out of control. Was that even possible at this point? Had the police officer gone mad after all? Was the stress of the job, or the trauma of the assault hours earlier taking so much of a toll on her psyche that the line between real and fantasy was blurred? Eva couldn’t be real. She just couldn’t. No one can move that fast. And what was that she said about…
“Vampire?” Nicole snickered, as though a comment like that was the most unusual thing she had heard in her lifetime. “Are you fucking serious? I mean, is this some kind of sick joke?” The woman paced nervously, mumbling incoherently and rubbing her freshly shaven scalp; barely even looking at the dark-haired beauty standing behind the chair while trying to come to terms with something that should not be.
“This is stupid. I know I’m j-just losing my mind, not thinking straight.” She finally blurted out, her tone growing into more of a growl with certain syllables, and a rising temper could be felt deep within the pit of her stomach. Nicole looked down at the gun in her hand, turning her wrist to examine it as though she couldn’t figure out
why she had been holding it in the first place. And then let it drop to the carpeted floor, as she staggered back against the wall, and slowly slid down to a sitting position with legs sprawled out and her head hanging low.
“Where am I supposed to go?” She whispered to herself, even though Eva could hear the words clearly all the same. “None of this makes sense…”
“Shhh. Let me help you.”
The words weren’t spoken, they were a whispered purr, one even if Eva had been across the street Nicole would have heard just the same. This time Eva walked at a normal speed across the room and threw her arms around Nicole. The hug was tight, as Eva pulled Nicole in so close and kept her there firmly, Eva’s arms tracing down the girl’s outer shoulders, and outer arms, before snaking around her waist.
Loose enough that Eva could lean back, and stare straight down into Nicole’s eyes with her own golden brown eyes hidden framed in a little eyeliner and natural lashes that looked studio perfect. The effect kicked her as hard as it would have hit Nicole; like a gunshot from a gun too powerful to be controlled. It felt as if her own heart was fluttering fast, a dizzy head and a feeling of warmth...but there was no beating heart, and there was no heat. “Do you feel me, Nicole? Do you feel us?...do you feel the utter lack of heat?”
Eva ripped the towel away from Nicole, as easily as she walked across the room Eva turned Nicole’s shoulders and rearranged her arms quickly to wrap the former cop up from behind; in the daze of the motion Eva had shed her own leather jacket. The only fabric between them was the thin fabric of the black tank top the elder Toreador wore.
“Feel it?...there are no hearts beating…” her cold breath hit Nicole like a wave of fog in darkness, as her arms held Nicole up against her own body, allowing no chance for escape. “I will help you. Look at me.” Nicole’s eyes appeared over the ridge of her shoulder, meeting Eva’s again. Eva squeezed tighter. “...come with me? Let me show you the night?”
Lord Wyron
Dion
Heat
Lady Arya
