Spot the Buffy reference! It's actually quite easy...
Chapter 3 French Dressing
Elijah woke to a languid tapping on his ribs. Correction. A quite spirited kick that jabbed against his ribs and then drew away. He could barely feel any sensation around his limbs, only a general ache that spread all the way to his bones. His tongue lolled in his mouth, like it had grown ten sizes, and he felt spit gathering.
I'm going to kill her. I'll kiss her—maybe— then I'll kill her.
Dismissing this ungentlemanly thought, or actually filing it away for future reference, Elijah struggled to his hands, and managed to pull himself upright.
He had been bested. By that she-demon.
Some thieves had stolen his money, the usual weight of his wallet having disappeared from his body. His slacks were torn, ragged. He tasted bitterness, a tinge of beer, an echo of nothingness that only his experience at being daggered reminded him of. Elijah straightened, adjusted his collar, redid the ends of his folded sleeves.
The crowd was shifting away from him, looking at him with wary, unfriendly faces. More rap blasted from the speakers, dashing against his ears. He saw men near the exits directing themselves towards him, all with threatening visages, thickened biceps, and eyes that leered in some hostile manner.
Elijah made to an exit, using his supernatural dexterity to lose them within seconds. After a half-minute, he was out at a highly populated area of town, the combination of music, fried food, and loud voices agitating his still-addled senses. He slammed his hand against a storefront window, gasping. It was a warm night, moonless, Elijah observed, all while still trying to process the thick air. His lungs were on fire.
There was no doubt that he was going to find her. Immediately. And she was going to pay.
Four Months Later
"I've been feeling less paranoid lately," Maria remarked to Vera and Chan-juan. She twirled in front of the mirror in her new outfit. She loved this store, Bon Bon's, a private boutique that had perfected the look of 19th century gowns and delicates, selling all sorts of barely-there dresses and crazy frilly underwear. It was their goal to dress you up like a crazed Alice in Wonderland… after she got high on hookah with the Caterpillar or something.
"I really think—it's over. Like I can be safe again. It's been four months and he still hasn't found me! Ha! I'm free," Maria concluded, still checking herself out in the mirror.
Vera huffed. Or at least she went by Vera, since she usually kept her real name under wraps. Maria wasn't the only one with enemies. Vera and Chan-juan sat on the plush couch inside the huge dressing room, frowning under the peachy light that worked hard to hide any bodily imperfection. They looked especially dreary next to the cheery pink columns ornamented with butterfly pins, and the silver nets draped on the wall. It was all very Disney Princess.
"So that was your genius plan? Suck face with him? You couldn't think of aaaany other way to keep him in the club so we could come get you?"
Maria narrowed her eyes at the mirror, and tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder. "No! What was I supposed to do, challenge him to an arm wrestling contest over by the bar? Also, you know that thing you do works better when the person is you know, vamped out."
"But was he aiming to go when you decided to lock lips with a VAMPIRE? Did you absolutely have to do it?"
"I didn't exactly, like, mean to make out with him. I had to keep him in the club, distract his senses. It was the only way. The best way."
"Yup." Vera look unconvinced.
"So your PG-13 moves worked on him? I've seen you dance with men. There are thirteen-year olds with sexier hips." Chan-juan laughed like this was the most hilarious thing in the world. She was prettier than all of them, and spacier, found all their dramas odd and weirdly human. Her black hair, as always, fell in waves around her poreless oval face. "So listen. A boner. Did he have one?" Chan-juan asked seriously. She had posed the same question before.
"I rather not talk about it," Maria said primly, adjusting the bodice. "So. Finally. What do you think?" she asked, turning their way to get their final opinions on the low-cut dress and the shoes. The heels were styled vintage, black button-up ankle boots, and the dress showed off a fluffy tiered skirt and a deep red corset, with an exposed back crisscrossed with faux leather laces.
"Total hookerware." Chan-juan nodded. "But in a good way. Girly. Brings to mind a sexy Victorian orphan."
"Perfect!"
Vera groaned. "So why are we still in Tampa of all places? I need to get out. Just let me get out."
"So that Magic Mike can protect us, duh," Chan-juan cackled.
"It was just a feeling. I can't imagine him in Tampa. Too many strip clubs. And mosquitos." Though dang, could that male kiss. Sometimes Maria caught herself regretting that she would most likely never see him again.
Her heels started to rattle on the tiny platform she had been modeling on.
"Wtf?" she heard Chan-juan exclaim, before the couch began to shake as well. The decorative netting loosened from the walls and waved over the floor, making a jangling sound. Startled, Maria tripped while trying to move back. She landed on the floor, dress askew, furiously trying to get her skirt back in place.
Elijah appeared before her. "Maria. We meet again."
Oh God, I think I flashed him. She tried to think of words to say, blanked.
"Cat got your tongue?" he asked amiably, grabbing her shoulders and hauling her to her feet none too gently.
"Is that him?" she heard Chan-juan ask as if from far away. "He's hot! Break me off a piece of that."
Elijah lifted her in his arms, zoomed out of the boutique. Maria extended an arm in longing. All those pretty dresses…
"Oh God. Dizzy," Maria whimpered against his chest. "Too dizzy."
When her vision came to, she saw that she was on her feet again, held in place by Elijah against a brick wall in some stupid alley, his hands grabbing her deltoids.
"Look. What. We. Have. Here." He pressed his nose against hers, the dark elegant cut of his eyes boring into her gaze.
"Oh. Hi?" she tried feebly, stammering. "Nice to see you again, Elijah. Nice suit."