Prologue- Cinnamon and Clove.
Aldrick was apathetic. Not just bored with the rainy town of never ending insipid towns folk, or the local schools parents evening his familiar, Ronny Greensworth who was an ageing man and subsequently worked at said school, had dragged him to with promises of fresh blood in pretty packages, but tired of many things in his life lately. Too many to count. After living as long as he had, things and situations that used to get his blood thumping with excitement and adrenalin simply turned to shades of grey, ash on his tongue, dust in his eyes. An endless cycle of going through the motions. Surprise and wonderment was obviously sequestered for the young only. Or the dumb, and thankfully, he didn't fit the latter sort.
To be honest, he was taken aback slightly by accepting the offer in the first place. High school students were never really his taste. Too mouthy, giggly and drunk for his standards. No, he liked his meals matured, like fine wine he used to drink back in his human days that were long passed and dead. But beggars can't be choosers, and if he had to put up with a few hours of some puffer fish lipped blonde squeaking in his ear to pass the time before he headed back to his home country, his land, then that was what he would have to do. Who knows? Maybe one would end up as a little baggy to go for the long trip ahead of him. God knows the cross Atlantic flight would be hell on his hunger.
Maybe it was his past, from Germanic warrior to general in an army that led him to be dissatisfied with this whimsical and peaceful time he found himself and this world in. War, carnage and over all chaos was not what it once was. As a vampire, something that never changed, never evolved, he found himself in a world that had outgrown his sort. Of course he could always go on a blood binge, trek across eastern Europe tearing a bloody path in his wake like he used to when he was just a fledgling, but funny enough, his un-beating heart just wasn't into it. He'd been there, he'd done it. He wanted something new and shiny to get involved in, not just rehashing old memories best left in the past.
Standing in a white washed room, with cheery parents meeting equally cheery teachers as he stood with Greensworth, Aldrick couldn't help but want to either tear his way through the whole room of simpering humans or wait for sunrise to lead him to his eternal rest. Especially if that mousy blonde little girl kept fluttering her eyelashes at him, her friend who had called the girl Jessica, being just as obnoxious as her beady eyed counterpart. Even parched, Aldrick was sure he would rather face the gut wrenching hunger than to taint his tongue with their blood. Some humans weren't even worth being food. How wasteful of mother nature.
He was about to give up on his quest of wasting time and finding a snack, walk away and not spare a single backwards glance to the room or its disgusting inhabitants, when something tangible tickled the tip of his nose as softly as a rose petal would. He discreetly let his nostrils flare, sucking in a hefty breath through his nose, letting the smell linger in his enhanced smell receptors, trying to pick apart the culmination of tarnishing scents to get to the one that had so abruptly caught his attention.
It was coming from a congregation of smaller humans... Teens, huddled in the corner at the opposite end of the tacky painted walled room, but that was all he could tell from what tidbits he could pick up. After shave doused pubescent men, over cooked food that rested on foldable tables pushed up at the walls edges, perfume clouds of obnoxious lavender, jasmine and tobacco that was obviously coming from a plump red faced man huffing on a cigarette was smoke screening the scent he was after. However small tendrils were still there, like wisps in the air leading him to the small group in the corner.
He didn't realize he was moving until a bony hand wrapped around his wrist. Sharply glancing down at the offending appendage, Aldrick was met with the grim and gaunt face of Ronny Greensworth, smelling of one too many drinks of cheep whiskey. Aldrick simply tilted his head to the side in a silent act of questioning, amused by the aging human as much as he was annoyed by his thoughtless acts and desperation.
Aldrick hadn't lived as long as he had from lack of intelligence. There was one reason Ronny Greensworth had offered him an invite, had offered these teens and parents to him like a sacrifice, had sworn his alliance to Aldrick. The hope of a dying man to be given eternal life. It was almost fun to play along with the mans hopeless dreams, if it wasn't so transparent. What the idiot didn't realize, or refused to accept, was even if he was turned right this second, he would forever be trapped in his decrepit body. Turning didn't make you young, only preserved you as you were. Aldrick was happy to have been turned in his early twenties rather than any older.
And that was with the delusional belief that Aldrick would offer it to him in the first place. He had a lot of time to accept who and what he was now, nearly four centuries, but he had gotten there in the end. Turning someone like Ronny was not on his list of possibilities. He wouldn't disgrace his own blood, his name and his reputation by turning someone as sniveling, cowardly and as dumb as Greensworth.
"Aldrick, stay... Here, have a pastry!"
Greensworth scrambled for the tray resting on the table by them, holding pastries of all sizes, fingers quivering as he plucked one up and held it towards the stoic vampire with a shaking arm. Ronny Greensworth didn't have long left in this world, Aldrick could practically smell the death rolling of him in waves of nausea and vertigo. Aldrick almost wanted to sneer at the thin man hobbling man.
Greensworth grinned at him with cracked, wonky and yellowing teeth, succeeding at bringing a small snarling twist to Aldrick's lips. He must have spotted Aldrick watching the group of teens in the corner, and while many would believe the old man was trying to save a life from Aldrick's parched throat and aching fangs, Aldrick knew the truth.
Ronny Greensworth was a spoilt man from old money, used to the spotlight being on him. Age had not diminished his feelings of self importance and self preservation. He had stopped Aldrick's departure from his slimy presence because Ronny knew, or believed at least, with his attention on someone else and not on him, Ronny would be forgotten about within a blink of Aldrick's eyes. His chance of immortality gone with one switch of focus, like sand in the wind. Never mind Ronny Greensworth didn't stand a chance for his wish fulfilment from the very beginning. And what had the aging man offered him in return of his continued attention? He offered him a bloody pastry of all things. Pathetic.
Tugging his arm free, Aldrick sent the shadow of a man a cold grin, one that spoke more of his feelings than words ever could, turned around and left Ronny Greensworth alone under the florescent light of what Aldrick heard someone call the 'Gymnasium'. Sliding into the nooks and crannies of the room, into the shadows, Aldrick made his way to the group that had caught his attention, or more accurately, the smell that had snared it.
As he grew closer, the overpowering smells did too. Thankfully, the elusive tendril of the scent bloomed just as much as the others did, and when Aldrick had come to a stop near the edge of the gathered teens, hidden by shadows and roaming crowds, he tried to spot the culprit who was emanating it, as well as trying to pull the scent away from the cloud it was smothered by.
When he finally managed to latch onto the smell, he almost wanted to keep it in his lungs so he could savour it. It smelled of spiced cinnamon and clove, a hint of evergreen trees and something musky and all together not human, all background notes to the powerful and pure smell of blanketing snow, Arctic winds and drifting snow flakes. Crisp, clean, fresh, with a miniscule edge of warmth in the background, like a cindering log in an open fireplace. Someone smelled like winter, embodied it. He had never smelled something or someone like this before. It wasn't perfume, after shave, or soap. Those artificial smells clogged the back of his throat and felt slippery, coating his beloved sense with a sheen of plastic. No, someone naturally smelled like this. It reminded him of his homeland, the mountains in northern Germany before the industrial age polluted and marred the landscape and air.
Just then, his eyes locked onto the source of the unique smell and Aldrick tried to take in as much as possible as he could. She was a small thing, barely topping five foot three. Thin, but not overtly so, with the showings of her soft curves peaking out from the dark blue velvet dress she wore to the parents evening. Blue, so apt for someone who smelled just like the season of winter in full force. Her skin was starkly white, almost vamperic in its starkness, but if he looked closely, Aldrick could see the slight flush of pink on her shoulders and the one swooping cheek of her face he could see from his vantage point. Her hair was boisterous to say the least, seemingly having a mind of its own, curls twisting, curling and laying where ever they wanted to. The colour however contrasted deeply with the colour of her skin and dress. Auburn, almost so deeply dark that it looked like a mulled wine with golds and golden reds streaking through when the lights flickered just right.
Then the puzzle piece finally clicked home and Aldrick knew what that musky otherworldly smell to the small woman was. It almost jarred him that he hadn't caught on sooner, but he really couldn't blame himself. What she was, was rare, even to an immortal vampire like Aldrick. Finding her here, in the mists of a backwards town almost felt like a kick to the teeth. This girl, this small woman being towered over by her counter parts, who smelled of fresh winter, delicate but heady, was an Anima Gemella to one of his kind.
With this new found realization, with what would happen to the poor girl if someone... Unsavoury to his kind found out, and the hard path that was ahead of her, of them, Aldrick crept forward a lot more clumsily than he usually would. If Aldrick was known for nothing else, it was his proficiency in blending in and sneaking around. But he needed to know just whose she was, she would bare a mark somewhere, likely on her throat, wrist or thighs, warding off any roaming vampire of the retribution to come if she was fed upon.
A mark that would give him the house's name, then he would just have to whittle it down to which vampire in that house. Because she could not stay here, not for much longer. It was miraculous that they hadn't spotted what she was yet, one drop or cut of her pale skin, a trip to a knowledgeable doctor or hospital, and it would be game over for the poor lass. Game over for the vampire too. And if... If this did go down hill and something happened to the girl, His kind, the house that the vampire belonged too, will not take this lightly when they found out. Because they will.
However, the shock of his findings and the sudden rush of needing to get the girl out of the frying pan she was in, had made his talent flee him for a moment and he stepped onto a rather creaky floor board. No one paid any mind, most caught up in there mundane chatter over equally boring matters, none the wiser to who and what was in their company, but one did turn around and faced him head on. The girl.
He found himself frozen to his spot, vivid golden brown eyes pinning him in place as she stared up at him as if she knew he was there all along, arched brows drawn down not in fright, but mild curiosity. What Aldrick guessed was a friend, a brown haired bespectacled girl, seemed to notice the woman's lack of attention and called her name, placing her hand on the girls shoulder. At least now he knew her name.
Bella.
Something bubbled up in his chest, and it took him a few moments to name the emotion. He was surprised. He hadn't felt this range of emotions for a long time, and in the span of a few minutes he had been tossed between confusion, curiosity, dread and shock. How delightful!
Plans started churning over in his mind, forming and dispersing as quickly as they came until he settled. The gathering was nearly over, the dwindling crowd attested to that. Soon Bella would have to leave the sanctity and safety of this gymnasium, travelling across a large car park... At night. No one would notice if one little student went missing in the throngs of the student body. It was the perfect time to act, they would be out of town before anyone could be wiser to reality.
One hour and he could get her out of here, away from the humans who would be surely hunting her down right this second. One hour, and then nothing would be as boring as the last two hundred years had been, he was sure of it. With that last thought, he sent a wink to a startled Bella and blended back into the shadows around him.
A.N- It's been a long time, and I know I should update my other stories before starting a new one, but I couldn't help myself. Thankfully, for those who read my other stories, they should be updated this weekend, beginning of next at the latest.
This story is going to be a Deacon Frost/Bella Swan fic.
As always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review, they make my day. :)