Simon stumbles back, arms flailing, as the door swings open. A vampire walks in, and Simon continues his frantic backpedaling as the vampire advances on him. "If your goal was to scare the crap out of me, mission accomplished!"
Something flickers in the vampire's dark eyes, and he pauses. Simon continues to back up until he runs into a coffin. Good God, an actual coffin.
"As far as I'm concerned, you—you can have it out with those shadowhunters. Especially the blond one."
The vampire's lips twitch into a tiny smile and he starts walking forward again. Leaning back, Simon runs his elbows into the coffin lid in a futile attempt to get away.
"You know, you don't need me," he says desperately.
The vampire's smile chills Simon. "On the contrary, I do."
Simon stops breathing, his mind and heart racing. He often wondered what it would be like to hear those words, what would prompt them. He never imagined this. He has the worst luck.
Raphael watches all the colour vanish from the young mundane's face. Simon is the first person to say Raphael's words, despite his long life and the many people he has frightened—whether purposely or not—since he became a vampire. No one else said those exact words in that exact order. And it looks like Raphael just said Simon's words too, judging by the mundane's stunned shock and the way he is now scratching at his right wrist. Raphael's own skin is itching where the slanting scrawled words wrap around his right arm.
He'd often pondered the meaning of those words. They were in English, oddly enough. He hadn't even learned to speak English until he was in school.
When he was still a mundane, he'd wondered how he could frighten someone like that upon first meeting them, and how that would work out as soulmates. Then, he became a vampire, and it made sense.
So. This mundane is his soulmate. This mundane that Camille wants. Perhaps it is a sign that now is the time to make his move against Camille. But it is not as simple as merely letting Simon go now. He must continue to play his part for a little longer, look for an opportunity, and find a way to free Simon when he defeats Camille.
He tries to make his voice gentle. "Simon. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
Terrified eyes watch him from behind huge glasses that make them seem even larger. "But you're—you're…"
"My name is Raphael. I will get you out of here."
Simon swallows hard, and the movement of his throat draws Raphael's attention to the blood racing through the mundane's veins. Shit. This is not going to be easy. "Okay." Simon's voice breaks on the word.
"Simon." Raphael brushes his fingers through the hair over Simon's ear, and Simon flinches, his eyes wide. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
"I really wish I could believe that," Simon replies.
"Come." Raphael takes him by the arm. "Camille will want to see you. She likes to have… toys sometimes. I'll do what I can to protect you, but you need to do what she says for now." He really sucks at this reassurance thing—always has, even before he became a thing that gives mundanes nightmares. He carefully squeezes Simon's arm in a way he hopes is reassuring. "I will do whatever I can to protect you."