survivors
A blonde and a brunette meet in a bar.
It goes like this.
Katherine is leaning back in a booth, sipping a cocktail and listening in on the conversation between the girl who's appeared, apparently seeking shelter from the rain. She's too young to be here, Katherine can see this. The heavy eyeliner tries to mask her youth, but Katherine can hear the tiniest tremble in the blonde's voice as she offers to wait tables for a few hours.
"I need a bit of gas money; I won't handle alcohol," she coaxes. Pete isn't wavering, steady in his belief that this girl is too young to be here. "I'm twenty-two." She hands over a card – Katherine cannot see the details from here, but Pete isn't convinced.
"Why do you need gas money so desperately?" he asks, and the girl's heart pauses its steady beating for a moment. She says nothing, just lifts her chin and smiles inscrutably. He sighs.
"You can sit here for a while, til the rain stops. I'll send over a Coke."
"Make it diet," she instructs, and sits opposite Katherine.
Katherine takes the chance to study her. She's pretty, but her clothes are beginning to look shabby from a couple too many washes. She carries her bag with her, rather than checking it into the coatroom, and Katherine has the impression that everything the girl owns is in that bag.
For once in several decades she feels pity. Instead, she orders another vodka and stares at the girl. They're sitting close enough that she can already tell the lack of vervain, and decides against compelling her.
Two queens hold court over an invisible audience.
"Someone wants me dead. It's been a year," the blonde tells her, and Katherine grits her teeth silently at the parallel to her own situation. Only she's been a wanted vampire for centuries, more years than this little girl can think of. And still, she's surprised that this human has survived so long. She herself hadn't fled until she was safely a vampire, and then it was a matter of going to human areas for food and occasionally money. The girl looks a bit thin, though she seems to be able to eat, and her hair is scruffy.
Not for the first time she wonders about her daughter, taken away so many centuries ago, and feels something. This girl is clearly like herself, in at least one regard, and she wants to help. It's an unusual feeling.
"How old are you?"
The girl tilts her head, evaluating Katherine and deciding on if she should give her real age. "Seventeen," she concedes eventually, and Katherine can tell the honesty in her heartbeat. More impressive, then, that she's survived. Her age works against her, and she really ought to be able to go back to her family, but can't.
"Who wants you dead?"
"I don't know, exactly. A lot of stuff happened one night – before, I was being stalked, and so I went to confront them. Another girl helped me escape, and I've been pretending to be dead ever since."
Painful. At least Katherine knows who wants her dead, knows who and what they are. It's been that way for so long – though maybe she could help this girl in another way. By staying alive, she's defying the people who want her dead. Katherine knows this better than anyone.
She finishes her drink, touches up her lipstick, and smiles darkly at the girl. "I'm Katherine."
"Alison."
Clever girl – she does not lie on the basic details, and this makes it easier for Katherine.
Maybe it's time for an alliance.