Cal stood looked up at large building with a bitter feeling in her throat. Was this really it? It seemed to her that the High Warlock of Brooklyn should have a much fancier residence than this shithole. Though, she was only looking at it from the outside; it was hard not to judge because, well, it was in Brooklyn. She'd never understood what the appeal was about the city. They were big, there were far too many people, and it was always loud.
She stopped at the front door and closed her eyes, wishing that there was another way; she knew there wasn't. Magnus Bane was her only option right now, and even if it took a thousand years, she'd find a way to convince him to help her.
Raising her hand to the knock, she froze when the door ripped open in front of her. Cal had heard that Magnus was eccentric, but she was seriously questioning his style choice. Though, he seemed to think he had no problem pulling off the silky-blue tiger-striped shirt and black leather pants with rhinestones on them. Plus, there was no doubt about this being the High Warlock; the man that stood in front of her oozed power so strong she was surprised she hadn't felt it when she'd crossed state borders.
"You've been standing outside my home for ten minutes, child of darkness. Is there something I can help you with?"
Cal stared at him with an open mouth. It had seemed so easy when she'd gone over what she'd planned to say to him in her mind. But now that she was here couldn't find words.
"If you'd like help finding blood, you're much better off going to Raphael Santiago. He is-"
"No, not him," Cal said shaking her head. She'd heard of Raphael from the source that had sent here and had no interest in any lifestyle that he had to offer. Not now, not ever. She knew what she wanted; what she needed.
She pulled off her hood and watched as his eyes widened slightly, his pulse quickening ever-so-slightly. Magnus tried to hide his reaction and did it well, but since she'd woken up a member of the living dead two weeks ago, she'd seemed to have gained a knack for judging people's reactions and emotions.
And Magnus's was the same as every other person that had seen her since she'd changed.
Cal had never grown up being known as one of the good-looking girls in her small town. In all actuality, she'd been dull, and plain. Easily looked over by the boys she'd gone to school with. She never cared, not really. By the time she was really interested in anyone, it was too late.
But after that wretched night.
After she'd clawed her way out of the dirt, greeting a man in dark clothing, a hood and mask covering his face, and drank the cup of blood he handed her.
After that same man disappeared before she could ask any questions about what was happening to her.
After she'd wandered back to the shitty apartment, she'd managed to secure in her shitty-home-town.
After she'd gone inside and showered, horrified by the fact that she'd been buried in the ground only an hour before.
After she'd realized she had no pulse, no breath, and most of the scars on her body had suddenly disappeared, leaving only the self-inflicted.
Then she'd looked in the mirror. And what she saw was an entirely different version of herself.
Instead of an acne ridden-face that puberty had still been cursing her for, despite being eighteen, her face was flawless and perfectly toned. All of her features had been sharpened, her blue eyes seemed brighter, and her usually dull brown hair was shiny and smooth, with waves of blonde running through it.
For the first time in her life, she'd felt attractive. At first, it had made her want to throw something. Everyone knows you can never trust the beautiful. But two weeks later, and she was sort of enjoying the look of pleasure that crossed someone's face for a split-second when they saw her, some sticking longer. Which made her want to throw something even harder.
"I can't go to him. I can't go to anyone else. I need your help," Cal said, her voice pleading, yet soft, like a melody.
Magnus watched her with curious yellow, cat-like eyes. "No one else, huh?" she heard humor in his voice.
"No one else," her voice louder this time. "Please, hear me out?"
..
..
"So, you'll help me?" Cal said. If she could cry, she knew there would be tears in her eyes. "I will pay you anything you want. I don't have a lot right now, but I can get whatever it takes. Please, I'm begging you."
Magnus watched her with sad eyes before taking another sip of his tea. He cleared his throat before speaking, which was for the first time since she'd begun explaining to him her situation. She hadn't bothered leaving a single detail out. Who cares what he thought her or the things she'd done, so long as he helped her she didn't care.
"Yes, I will help you."
Cal looked toward the ceiling, a habit that she'd obtained in the past when she tried to hold in tears. She knew they weren't going to come, not this time. Not ever.
"But I don't want payment." Cal stared at him for a moment, until he continued.
"I only ask that you stay here, in Brooklyn, for however long it takes me to find the answer that you're seeking," he said boldly, standing as he did.
Cal watched him with wide eyes, stay here? In a city so crowded, in her state? When she couldn't walk in the light without being in pain. She'd been trying since she'd turned, each day spending longer and longer in the daylight, managing the burns as best as she could. So far she'd only made it twenty minutes without the pain becoming too much for her.
"I suppose I can find an apart,-" she began.
"You will stay here," he said quietly, his voice final. "I have extra rooms. And if you truly do want to avoid the other vampires while in New York and still manage to get a hold of the sustenance you need, and you will need it, the best place to do so it here." Magnus turned and nodded to her small duffle bag. "Is that all you have?"
Cal felt a feeling of disgust run through her. Though he hadn't said it in a judgmental tone, it hurt. She nodded her head softly and looked around his extravagant apartment. She had no other belongings, and she'd been wrong to judge his home from the outside. She didn't belong in a place like this. As she began to ask him if he was sure, tell him that she was asking far too much of him for no payment, he interrupted her again.
"Then I'll show you to the rooms on the second floor," Magnus said, walking out of the room, and she followed, knowing that she'd pay him back, even if he declined.
..
..
Magnus Bane closed his eyes and felt the wind against his skin, wishing more than anything that Alec wasn't away for work for the next week. He wanted nothing more than to hold him until the pain went away, and boy was the pain sharp this time. Being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and in the travel's he'd mad throughout his life, he'd heard a lot of stories that had made him shiver to the bone. But this? This one hit home.
How could a girl so beautiful, both inside and out, with such a clean and kind aurora, be in such a situation? If only she knew the kind of sight, he had. And had she really thought he'd want payment to find the answers that she sought? If he had accepted any amount, he'd be the same monster his father had believed him to be, the same one his mother killed herself to escape.
Magnus leaned on the railing and opened his eyes. Thinking about those things made him want to vomit. They were his past, and he needed to focus on the future.
Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if he could truly help the girl, the vampire, that was sleeping in one of his spare rooms upstairs? He felt guilty, knowing a part of the answer that she wanted, but unwilling to give it to her. Magnus couldn't; at least not yet. Later on, once he understood more. He could see how broken she was, and he wasn't about to let her break more.
He stood and turned inside to his balcony, knowing that a trip to the institute may do him good. Even if Alec wasn't there, he knew that Maryse would allow him to access their library if he told her it was for a good reason.
And it was for a good reason. He was going to help this girl, just not in the way that she wanted.