Annie had asked for some privacy after their little talk, she still found herself dazed from the whole vampire thing. There was a terrible taste in her mouth, a bitter taste that made her feel like she was going to puke—maybe that was the side-effects of having blood for the first time. She'll get used to it; she had an eternity to get used to it, so she figured that she should quit moping around and live through it.
Mitchell was on the couch when she found him; he was rolling a small piece of paper between his fingers, his brows furrowed in concentration as he made his cigarette. He smokes in the house? Lovely. Annie was still hiding behind the wall, but her head was poking out, looking at Mitchell. He must've sensed she was there for his head shot up after a few seconds, his face looking pleasantly surprised.
"Annie," he said, "You're all good now?"
Not really. "For now," she shrugged, giving him a small smile. Just smile and nod, Annie. Smile and nod.
Mitchell motioned his hand for her to come over. When she plonked herself down on the leather sofa, he put his cigarette down on the coffee table and he smiled, handing her the remote, asking her if she wanted to watch something on the telly. She agreed and began to flick through the channels absently, although she knew that nothing of note was on. Annie paused on a channel and it so happened to be the news. It caught them both by surprise to see a missing persons report on. Annie grabbed a pillow and hugged it as she stared at the TV.
"The woman is in her early-twenties and she was last seen in a club in Bristol. Her friends recall her leaving with a man in his mid-twenties, however, no one has come forward on what he looks like. Her fiancée speaks out…" Owen then appeared, his hair messy, his eyes red, and his skin was stained with—what she expected were—dried tears.
"Please, someone help us find her," he began, his voice shaky. It broke her heart to watch, to see him so broken over her disappearance. "We're getting married soon. Please, please, help us find her."
Annie felt sick, so she looked away and turned the television off. It was like her entire world was crumbling down around her, like someone was pulling the bricks out one by one, so slowly…so painfully slow. Annie looked down, some curls falling over her eyes, her breath shaky. Mitchell put his hand on her back, rubbing it in slow circles while he shushed her silently, as if she was a baby who needed comforting. He scooted closer and pulled her in into him. She wanted to push him away, to kick him, to punch him, to make him suffer as she was but she was just so…tired, so she just accepted the hug and cried into his shirt for a while.
Annie didn't realize she had fallen asleep on him, but he woke her gently by shaking her. It seemed like he didn't move her or anything, but he just left her there to cry herself to sleep, and that was nice. The brightness blinded her, so she squinted and saw Mitchell sitting there, nodding his head back. Annie could smell something nice—pasta. Dinner must be ready, she thought, rubbing her nose and groaning as she stood up from the sofa. Mitchell had his hand on her back still as he guided her to their little kitchen. It was a charming little kitchen, each wall seemed to be slightly different; one would be one colour, then another would be wallpaper, and another would be a totally different colour. Utensils littered the countertops, and most of it looked like undone washing. Annie sat down at the end of the table, her back pressed up against the beige wall. Sniffling, she pulled her sleeve down to her wrist and wiped away the remaining tears that were stained on her skin. George walked to the table, a bowl of pasta in his hands. He looked like he was about to ravish the food he had prepared. Mitchell came over, silent, and gave her a bowl full of spaghetti. Annie licked her lips and began eating, careful to not spill any food on their table. Usually she would've ravished something that smelt and tasted that good at home, but she was a guest—admittedly, an unexpected and perhaps unwelcomed guest by some, but a guest nonetheless—so she had to eat properly.
Mitchell, who was leaning into the open fridge, looked up and asked Annie what she wanted to drink. She opted for water, considering alcohol would only worsen the headache. He nodded and went over to the sink, filling a cup with water and handing it to her. He took a seat and began eating too. It was silent between the three of them, but faint sounds from the television seemed to fill the air and distract them. Mitchell must've left it on some game show or something.
George finally broke the silence. "So," he began, eyeing Mitchell for less than a second before turning his attention back to Annie. "Tell me about yourself, uh…Annie, was it?"
She nodded, putting her fork down. "Uh, I'm Annie, I'm twenty-two years old and I'm a 'baby' vampire." She shrugged, giving George a smile. She didn't know how much she should tell him.
"Excellent," George said, making a face to Mitchell who just eyed the both of them. "Just bloody excellent," he muttered, playing with one of the meatballs with his fork.
There was no more conversation after that, and Annie felt like that was partly her fault, coming in-between George and Mitchell, surely she had created a wedge between them after their argument, after George found out that Mitchell fell off the wagon. Annie excused herself from the table and thanked them for their meal.
She hurried out and climbed the stairs, heading for the chair room. Annie was tired and desperately wanted to plonk herself down on a bed, although, she didn't have a bed, all she had was a chair and the floor, and neither of which were going to end well. Mitchell knocked on the door and crept in, his back pressed up against the door as he closed it. He smacked his lips and came closer.
"Herrick called, and he said that you'll need to make your decision by tomorrow. He knows that I've been trying to get you on my side, and he wants you to decide." He said, playing with the frayed ends of his gloves.
Annie thought the worst thing about it was the choice. Should she go with Herrick? Someone who would take care of her and who would give her everything she needed, or Mitchell? The guy who seduced her with his vampire magic and made her into one of his own? The man who pretty much ruined her entire life, her entire future?
Mitchell sighed, asking, "Where are you going to sleep?"
Annie looked around the floor. "Here, I guess."
"No, no," he said, "You can sleep on my bed tonight—you'll need a good night's sleep and I don't think the floor is going to give that to you."
"What about you?"
"I'll take the couch. But after we deal with everything I'll get you an air mattress or something, and we'll put in in here." He wants me to move in with him and George. He thinks I'm going to pick him. What if I don't? What happens then?
He led her into his room. There were clothes strewn around the place, and there were knick-knacks scattered along his shelves. Annie was itching to clean it, but she contained herself and sat down on his bed quietly looking up at him.
"Sorry for the mess," he said, cleaning up some of the clothes off the floor and putting them into his wicker basket.
"It's okay," she said, rubbing her nose. "George doesn't like me much, does he?" Mitchell looked at her and shook his head, his face softening as he sat down next to her.
"Don't be silly," he waved a dismissive hand. "Vampires and Werewolves aren't known to co-inhabit, nor are they friendly to each-other. George and I are close, yeah, but usually vampires and werewolves don't get along; they fight, they hate each other. Fangs versus Lycos—it's something that's always just been there. It's nothing against you, Annie. He's just being cautious, you know?"
"I'm not going to hurt him."
"I know, but he'll warm up to you soon, don't worry."
Annie nodded, agreeing. She could see where he was coming from. And if she was in his position, she would've done the same thing. Annie rubbed her shoulders, shivering from the cold. Mitchell asked her to lay down as he pulled the covers over her.
"'Night, Annie," he said, his voice slow and deep.
"'Night, Mitchell," she yawned, pulling up the covers and closing her eyes. He flicked off the light and closed the door.
The light streamed through the window, waking Annie up from her deep slumber. Thankfully, she didn't have another nightmare of sorts with the two men. Annie threw the sheets off her and lazily walked over to the bathroom to pee. Closing the door behind her, she sat down and breathed out. Big day ahead of me, she remembered. Annie loathed the idea of seeing Herrick, but she had to get it all over with.
The door flung open and there was Mitchell, newspaper in hand. Annie freaked out, covering herself, wide-eyed. "Occupied!" she cried out and he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him, utterly shocked.
Annie washed her hands and walked out, surprised to see Mitchell waiting by the door. He muttered an apology and a greeting before entering the bathroom himself. Annie walked downstairs and waited for him on the couch.
He returned, dressed and ready.
"Alright," he muttered, "Keys, wallet, phone—that's everything. Okay, Annie, we should go now."
"Ah, ah, ah," slurred George, rubbing his eyes, still in his pyjamas. "Where are you two going?"
"Out."
"Out where?"
"To the shops, she needs some clothes."
"Hmm…" George just growled and went back upstairs.
Mitchell led her out and into his car. They drove for a bit in silence until Annie broke it. "Mitchell?" she asked, and he just hummed. "Why did you lie to George?"
"Sometimes," he said, "It's better to keep stuff a secret. He doesn't like me seeing Herrick, and this is the last time I'll have to. It's not hurting him."
Annie nodded and slumped back on the seat.
Mitchell stopped the car outside of the funeral parlour, and he stopped her before she could get out of the car.
"Just for future reference," he said, handing her a pair of glasses. "Vampires are sensitive to the sunlight, we don't melt to the ground, but it's just a little blinding to us. Has the sunlight been hurting you?"—she shook her head, no—"Well, it will soon. So take these, they'll help."
They were greeted inside by a man who Mitchell called 'Seth'. He was at the front desk, writing something down.
"Ah, Mitchell," Seth said when Mitchell said his name. Seth gave Annie a sly smile, making her feel uncomfortable, so she shuffled closer into Mitchell. "Is this the new recruit? My, my, she's a good one."
Mitchell grimaced, "Don't be creepy, Seth."
"What?" Seth shook his head nonchalantly, "I'm only being friendly." He got up and walked around the desk, extending his hand out to her in a swift movement. "I'm Seth," he said as she shook his hand, "Pleasure to meet you, uh, Annie, was it?" Annie nodded.
"Where's Herrick?" Mitchell said, skipping the pleasantries.
Seth was back at his desk, shuffling pieces of paper around. With his head still down, he pointed to the back door. "Back room—he's expecting you."
Mitchell got Annie out of there as quickly as he could, well, before Seth could do anything else that would've creeped her out even more.
As promised, Herrick was waiting. It was a dark room, filled with some cars. His desk was at the very end, and he was dimly lit, but she could see that he was wearing a well-tailored suit. Herrick sighed and looked up, greeting them both with a smile. Two men put two chairs down in front of his desk and Herrick gestured his hand towards them, offering the seats. Mitchell and Annie sat down and eyed each-other reluctantly.
"Annie," Herrick finally said, crossing his arms as he leaned back. "I'm sure Mitchell's filled you in on why you're here?"
"Yes."
"Excellent," he said, eyes glistening, almost hopeful. "Who do you choose?" Way to skip the pleasantries.
Annie sat there silently for a while. It was so hard for her to decide, Mitchell dragged her into this, and yet, he was sincere about working together, helping each-other, but another part of her wanted to give in and feed, and she knew Herrick would let her do that.
Mitchell was a killer, just the same as Herrick and everyone else in his vamp-clan. She didn't even know why she even considered choosing Mitchell in the first place; he ruined her life, took everything from her and yet she wanted to side with him? Something about him pulled her to him, like magnets.
No. She has to do the sensible thing, and that was leaving Mitchell. She knew his type; hot and dangerous, you want the thrill, and only he can give it to you. Annie didn't want that, nor did she need that.
"I choose…" she trailed off, looking at Mitchell, then Herrick. She gulped, the word struggling to come out. "Herrick."
Mitchell slumped back in his seat, astonished, but Herrick only chuckled, grinning wolfishly.
"I thought you were going to stay with me!" Mitchell half-yelled, voice cracking. Annie dropped her gaze to the floor, and then it trailed up to Herrick.
Herrick looked amused as he said, "Well, that settles that." Herrick stood up and walked over to Annie. He shook her hand and then lifted it to his lips to kiss it gently. Annie eyed him, but then Herrick moved over to Mitchell, patting his back almost unsympathetically.
"It's okay," he cooed, "She'll be okay here—we're a family here. You're more than welcome to visit her whenever you wish."
Mitchell said nothing, but his face said it all. He was pissed at her, and his eyes showed a faint sorrow, that of which made her heart sink to her stomach. She hugged herself, frowning. I'm so sorry.
"She's made her choice," he said coldly. He eyed her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her, but then they moved up to Herrick. "And I have to respect that."
And with that, Mitchell left. Utterly heartbroken, it seemed.
A/N: Please leave a review if you liked it! It really helps!
