Central Park was beautiful at night. There was a certain serenity in the way the moonlight played upon countless leaves and worn park benches that made this park the eye of the storm of human activity that was New York City. Beyond the trees were glimpses of the lights of the city: passing cars, skyscraper lights, bike reflectors and taxi signs. It could almost be romantic.
One presence hovered, focused as a hungry panther stalking its prey. The bloodlust was upon him. Every sense was enhanced – he saw every turning leaf in the darkness, heard every rustle in the path, caught the faintest whiff of lilac perfume on the air – and every need in his soul burned. He was hungry, thirsty, longing…every breath came quick and silent, but his blood couldn't carry the air. He was single-mindedly scanning the trees for the flash of a lilac dress. She had gotten away from him once already. As he stalked, he absently recalled the events of the evening: the moonlit "stroll" into the park, out of sight – her laugh echoing in the stillness and his hunger. She had looked up at him, expecting a kiss…and saw his bare fangs and frigid cobalt eyes. She ran.
But not far. A tiny rush of wind was all that could have revealed his move, darting after the glimpse of gaudy purple fabric in the trees. Target sighted. He was on her before she knew it, sinking his needle-sharp teeth into her slender neck. At first, she struggled feebly, and he reached into her mind, calming her, making her still. For a moment he started at the lack of resistance. That surprised him. Her mind was weak, but beyond that…she wanted to be caught. Disgusting. Well. He wasn't picky. The hot blood flowed into his mouth and down his throat. It poured blessed life into him, body and soul. He became slowly calmer, time slowed to normal, his breath came more easily and the glow in his eyes dimmed. He didn't take enough to hurt her, only enough to keep himself alive – the bare minimum. And then he let her go. Locking her dazed eyes with his, he erased her memory of everything after the dance. He left her on a bench by the street, hoping a policeman would get to her first. He wondered why he cared. He glanced back once, feeling again the touch of her mind, only for a moment, and wondered what it would be like to be the prey. He couldn't imagine it. Feeling vaguely upset, he walked back to his apartment.
Heero arrived at the apartment in a horrible mood. His awful lavender tux was miraculously unwrinkled and unstained by his earlier excursion. He looked at his reflection, silently disgusted, and turned narrowed eyes on his roommate as he came cavorting down the stairs.
"Hey, Heero," Duo said cheerfully as Heero shut the door. "How was the dance?" His violet eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Hn."
Duo laughed nervously. "All right, so the girl had the I.Q. of a lima bean. But it can't have been that bad!"
Heero gave Duo a wordless glare, gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, and marched up to his room, slamming its door. Shuddering, Duo pulled a wooden chair away from the table and sat down with a thump. Just as he was considering getting up to get himself a Coke, there came a terse knock on the door. With a martyred sigh, Duo stood and opened the door. Nobody there! Tentatively, he looked around. A shadow moved within the shadows around his building like a leaping flame within a fire. There was a small white envelope sitting on the step. Blinking, Duo bent to pick it up. There were no marks on the front, so he turned it over. It was sealed with black wax – a raven carrying a black iris. Shrugging, Duo carried it inside and called up the stairs, "Hey! Heero! I think I've got some mail for you!" Duo contemplated the seal. Hmm. Looks like we're going to Vegas.
Talia woke in a cold sweat. She broke the surface of her turbulent dreams like she was smashing through a window. She sat up, trembling, unable to move the images from her mind. So cold. It had been so real. So very cold. Giving in, she surrendered to her tears. Eventually, she fell into an exhausted sleep. This time it was blessedly dreamless.
Author's note: Jeslyn wanted me to add an author's note here, but couldn't figure out how to put it after my cool border thingy (which won't even show up in the html version), so I added it for her.
-Besasama