Not feeling particularly wonderful about this at the moment, but I figured I'd put it up anyway. What with school and work, it's been hard to get in much writing time. Any comments appreciated.
Alyn's life up until now had been so God-forsakenly simple that things like this left him relying solely on his lists. He has found himself drawn so completely into her world that it would take a miracle for him to get out. But then really, he thinks, why would I need to get out? I have no family left, no true friends. Leaving my life – or what I had of it – behind for her isn't exactly unthinkable.
The woman Selene sits in the driver's seat of a Maserati, fingers gripped on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. She drives like she's never been a civilian, Alyn thinks. But he's not exactly worried – she's proven that her reaction time is far above his, and her driving like that of the stunt drivers Alyn has seen in the movies. Selene floors the gas on a short stretch of open road, downshifts suddenly, and sends them careening down an alleyway that Alyn never had known even existed.
Alyn wonders vaguely why she has chosen to bring him along – from the brief descriptions she's given him of her life, he knows he'll be no good to her. He shoots just well enough to stay certified, moves just fast enough to stay alive, and thinks better methodically than on the run. He guesses that she holds onto him as a last strand of humanity, but he doesn't mind. Humanity? he thinks, confused.
Selene stops suddenly, and Alan's attention is drawn suddenly to a large iron gate, and beyond it, the smoldering ruins of what he guesses was a huge mansion. He hears a short gasp from beside him. She opens her mind to him again, and he sees the mansion as she remembers it: lavish burgundy velvet, dark rooms with expensive furniture, vampires in lush finery milling around tables with blood-filled wine goblets. "Decadent, but still mine," Selene murmurs. He turns to look at her, to gauge her response. He sees only weariness.
She opens the door to the car and climbs out slowly. Alyn wonders immediately if he should get out also, but sees her turn and shake her head once at him. Walking directly to the gate, Selene stands for a minute with her slender fingers resting on the gate that holds her from her former home. She clenches her fist sharply around the padlock and chain, and, as if on a whim, rips it away.
He's shocked – the chain had to be an inch thick, steel or iron, with a heavy padlock on it. No one was meant to enter this area. But she's torn it as if it's a string. Apparently her surprise nearly equals his; her fingers open and she looks at the broken chain lying across her palm. I was strong, but not like this, he hears.
She swings the gates open and motions to him, without looking back. He exits the car and rushes after her, glancing back at the car once and wondering if it was safe to leave it there, unlocked, doors open.
"No need to worry," she says softly. "Even street thugs know better than to steal something from Ordoghaz." He smiles a little to himself. It makes sense, though. A castle full to the brim of hungry, ethics-challenged vampires isn't quite what the average thief wants to target.
A general framework still remains – Alyn sees steps in the front leading to a burnt-out doorway, a half eaten-away second floor. Ordoghaz, as she calls it, was built of stone. Even fire cannot ruin it, although the huge capstones are singed to black. They walk towards the mansion, across what was once a cobbled, sweeping entryway. He could almost hear the sound of horses, carriages, the finely tuned murmurings of high class . . . vampires.
He walks beside her, and every now and again, feels her glance at him, as if for comfort.
"You enjoy my company," he says, searching for an answer. "Why? I'm not like your death dealer friends, I'm nothing like you, and I'm a mortal. What do I have for you?"
They keep walking, and he senses her questioning herself on the same matter.
"I don't know," she says finally, her brows drawing together for a moment. "You're so . . . human. But I think I miss that. I'm sorry that's all I feel." She turns her head away from him, ostensibly looking at an object on the grass beside her.
"Alright," he says, nodding slowly. "I'm not sure I mind so much anyway."
She climbs onto the first steps, undoubtedly reliving any one of the hundreds of times she'd done the same thing and taken it for granted. The door is burnt out, so she steps through the threshold with no obstacles, turning left to climb a rough staircase. At the top stretches a long hallway, branching off in many tributaries.
The hallway is wide enough for three broad-shouldered men to walk abreast, so Selene and Alyn walk down the corridor side-by-side. In each room seems to be lodged one of Selene's memories – she shows him things periodically as they walk by certain rooms. Catalina's room, he hears. She was a great death dealer and my closest friend until she died. My first room, at a tiny, windowless closet. One doesn't get a suite until one proves herself. I did so in a matter of weeks – none had ever advanced that fast.
They turn left at the next hallway. Ten steps in, three hulking men come from behind a corner, as shocked to see Selene as she was to see them.
She curses sharply as they aim huge machine guns at her. Before they can draw a line on her, she's sighted them. Before they shoot, "do you know who I am?" She's nervous; he can see it in every line of her body. Even the depth of her voice belies her worry. He begins to edge in front of her, but she shakes her head once, rapidly and sets herself in front of him. You'll die if they hit you – I won't, he hears.
"I created him. The hybrid." The men snarl like animals, and Alyn's eyes open wide. She'd mentioned lycans, and werewolves, but he hadn't expected them to look so frightening in their human bodies. "Do you really want to kill the maker of your only ally?" she says forcefully.
"He's destroyed now. Both hybrids are. You're no good to us, and sentimentality means nothing here." Alyn senses that most lycans don't speak this well – the leader, shorter and slimmer, seems to be something of an abnormality.
Selene sends him a mental picture – himself, edging to his right, away from the lycans' line of sight. Get into that room. Now. Draw whatever side arm you've got – you're police, you have something, don't you? Load it, cock it, whatever needs to be done. Then wait there, but don't block the door. I may need to dive in at some point.
Alyn moves slowly, trying not to attract too much attention. Once in the room, he draws the revolver that he carries with him on assignments.
"If you leave now, I won't hurt you," he hears. Laughter from the animals.
"You're one, we're three," the short leader snarls viciously. "What can you do?" He hears sudden gunshots from their end and immediately fears for Selene's life.
Purposefully not thinking about it, Alyn steps out and takes a quick headshot at the leader. Dead on, between the eyes. Selene acts on his cue, rolling out from the opposite room and shooting the two lackeys just as quickly. "Quite a shot," she tells him earnestly, and runs to the leader's body.
Alyn follows, curious as to what the problem could be. "He's pushing out the bullet already," Selene whispers, intensely. "See it?" To Alyn's astonishment, he does see it. The bullet, lodged fully four inches into the beasts' brain, slowly presses out of his skull. He hears report beside him and jumps as two bullets smash into the man's head. Something silver trickles out like blood – "silver nitrate," Selene tells him. "It's the only truly effective weapon against them."
"Lycans," she mutters. "Do you believe me now?"
"I'm not sure I ever disbelieved you," he says softly. "How could I?" Their eyes lock, green on blue. The intensity harbored there is almost too much for Alyn to understand. His breathing quickens, his eyes sharpen. Suddenly, she turns away.
"We should go."