"Take that veil from your face," Enjolras said to shape which he had pinned against the wall. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"
His stalker unveiled beautiful features and large black eyes. Despite all the dirt and filth around them, her clothes were clean and rich; a fantastic rainbow made of old lace and red velvet-tunic.
"I am Ziska," she said with perfect French.
"So why are you following me?"
"Because I love you!" came the answer.
"Love! Me!"" Enjolras stepped back. "How can you love me without knowing me?"
"Oh, but I do know you!" Ziska cried. "I have followed you, watched you and I know very well who you are. We immortal creatures can love, too, and our love is not squashed by mere time and death." Ziska stepped forward. "I can make you an immortal, too!"
Enjolras looked at her, this dark-haired Moor beauty, this strange creature in her fantastical costume, and politely but firmly he removed her lacquered nails from his sleeve.
"Then find someone else to love, woman, because if you indeed know me, you also know that I can´t possibly love you."
Ziska´s expression darkened. "Is that your answer?"
Enjolras nodded. "If you really believe that you are a vampire..."
Ziska´s eyes flashed. "Do you want to grow old and die? I can make you a vampire!"
"By drinking my blood?"
"Oh, yes! I have already taken the first step, when you slept. Aren´t you grateful? Now the bullets of your enemie scan´t harm you!" She put the veil around her face. "Farewell, Enjolras! We shall meet again."
She disappeared to the shadows.
