Lots and lots of people are, again, adding this to favourites, and leaving no reviews. I know I have been OOA recently, but hey, you've got to keep in touch and let me know how it's coming along. That way, I'll feel more inclined to write.
I am making this up as I go along. Let me know what you think.
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10. A Visit
The tattered book lay inauspiciously in her hands; the book she had felt compelled to bring with her. She'd never really been a huge fan of poetry, though with this book, she read it cover to cover compulsively, as though it would give her answers she didn't know the questions to.
She'd tried to return it; more of an excuse to knock upon his door, if not for a chance to glimpse his face in the sunlight and realise that everything had been a dream, a horrible, waking nightmare. Though nobody had answered. Not that she hadn't expected that, but it still hurt all the same.
So she'd kept it.
Now, in her bed in Cloud's Moscow loft, she pored over its tattered pages, not really seeing the words, enjoying the feel of the brittle yellowed paper on the pads of her fingertips. It was smooth, the scent conjuring a jumble of indistinct memories.
She'd neglected to close the shutters; the moonlight poured in uninterrupted through the huge loft window, bathing her in its magnificent gleam. She could make out the distinct shadows, cast by the sporadically placed furniture in Cloud's apartment. The whole place carried his scent, conjuring his face into her mind at a time she least wanted it there. Since when had he loved her? A sister, he had said once. Had it ever been just that kind of love?
It made her sick, even angry; he just had to go and pick the worst time, didn't he? The rational part of her mind scorned the other, more accommodating half; at least he was human, for crying out loud. She should count her losses, and take whatever the hell she could from this. Though in the latter's depths, she wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with Cloud, too. Werewolf, perhaps? Or even some kind of zombie...
She caught her sudden burst of laughter in her cupped palm, drawing her legs towards her chest, draping the heavy blankets around her shoulders. What would her mother have said to this? Choosing dance over a more stable career, choosing to live far away from home, rather than stay where she knew, choosing a vampire, who hungered for her in ways she didn't understand, instead of a normal man...
Sighing, she set the tattered poetry book down to one side, letting the rough cover slide over her smooth palm as she released it. The shadows in the room danced, the boughs of the trees that lined the street outside caught by a sudden strong wind. Shuffling out of bed towards to window, covers still draped about her, she watched the silent street down below. Not a soul stalked the streets at this hour, though that did nothing to deter the anticipation of her promised visit.
After struggling with the catches on the windows, she managed to push one open wide enough to admit a person. Ignoring the sudden gust of cold air, she settled down on the wooden floor, shrugging the blankets closer about her, and waited.
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She couldn't say how long she had been sat there, though judging from the discomfort in her limbs, she guessed that she must have dozed off. Glancing bleary eyed at the clock, she realised that two hours had passed. That noted, it only came as half a shock to find a female form silhouetted against the window. Scarlett seemed to be a woman of her word, after all.
"I cannot find him." She said, not turning. Tifa hauled herself rather unceremoniously to her feet, shivering from the sudden exposure to the frigid air, though due to her uncertainty about Scarlett's intentions and disposition, she dare not approach closer by way of closing the window. "He has closed himself to me. I do not know where to look."
Tifa said nothing, moistening her lips nervously. She noted the angry lines of bloody tears staining Scarlett's otherwise ivory, flawless cheeks, black in the darkness. What could she say to a vampire who had lost... whatever he was to her.
"I sense your fear, and I do not condone you for it. Vincent and I... we misled you. Though know that it was I who encouraged him to... pursue his interests in you. I only wanted to see him happy once more." The blonde, in all her ethereal beauty turned to face her, crystal irises glowing out of the gloom. "I do not know where else to turn. Vincent means everything to me. I need to ask you for your help." She closed the window gently, and Tifa felt suddenly trapped.
"Help?" She managed to choke, raising her eyebrows. The all powerful, perfect creature before her wanted to ask the weak, impermanent human for help?
"He may have shut you out, too... but if he thought you were in trouble... he might-"
"No, Scarlett," She shook her head abruptly, near ebony hair tumbling into her eyes. "I don't think I can. Vincent is... He bit me." Unconsciously, she rubbed at her unblemished throat, unaware of how Scarlett's gaze lingered there long after her fingertips had fallen away.
"I know. But you have to understand... We need to feed to survive... without it, we would perish. And some people have a certain... essence."
"A what?"
"An essence. A smell, if you will. It marks you, allows us to sense you from miles away, if it is strong enough. It is... irresistible to some of those among our kind who are less experienced with restraint."
"And I have an essence?"
"Oh yes." Scarlett was suddenly behind her, tugging away her makeshift cocoon. Fingers with an iron grip turned her body around, hands colder than even hers. Piercing eyes bored into hers, framed in a tragically beautiful way by her tainted tears. "For Vincent to have lasted so long for his age... is a testament to his love for you."
"His love?" Her voice was a whisper, though she did not doubt Scarlett would have any trouble hearing. In fact, she wondered what the limits were to her superhuman abilities.
"Yes." The blonde's features softened, considering her tenderly, though her grip around her upper arms did not loosen. "For the first time in over a hundred years, Vincent opened his eyes. And he saw you. Your essence ensnared his thoughts, his dreams... and from that moment, there was nothing else for him, save you."
"But he bit me, Scarlett." Her voice a near whimper now, struggling to contain the sudden upsurge of feeling within her, upon recollection of all the suppressed emotions.
"Tifa. Look at me." The brunette reluctantly raised her amber eyes to meet the blonde's, her rising hysteria suddenly calmed by the icy gaze. "In the state of mind you took him to, it becomes very difficult for a vampire as inexperienced as he to resist someone such as you."
She prayed that the darkness would hide her flush. Scarlett's pupils dilated rapidly. "My god... no wonder he fell apart. When the blood rises to your face in such a way..."
Cold fingertips swept her hair aside, and Tifa was frozen in place. Scarlett traced the line of Tifa's lips delicately, focussing wholly on her task. Tifa's chest started to burn from holding her breath. Then without warning, cool lips were pressed upon hers in a delicate, fragrant kiss. She blinked a few times in surprise, unable to comprehend Scarlett's actions, battling with the confusion in her belly; the urge to push her away, and a deeper primal urge to pull her closer.
Then thankfully for her, Scarlett withdrew, expression perfectly impassive. Sucking in on her bottom lip, Scarlett seemed to relish the taste, breathing in deeply, savouring. "I believe that will be enough for me to protect you. No need to drink from you."
Tifa struggled to find her voice. "You mean... we are connected, now?" She folded her arms across her chest defensively.
"Not as strongly as you are to him, but yes. It will allow me to look out for you, while you are here."
"Why should you need to?"
Scarlett released her arms at last, crossing over to the window once more, pupils returning to their constricted state. "There are ancient beings here, older than even I. And you have been marked—not in ways you can see, mind." She added, noticing Tifa caressing her throat subconsciously. "You may stand out even more than you normally do."
"How can I help you find Vincent?"
"Well, you see, if he is in Spain, which I believe he is, he will not sense you this far away. If he does, there isn't much he will be able to do for you. Our best hope, once there, is to trick him into thinking you are in danger... or there is another option, which is more likely to work." Tifa did not miss the flash of excitement behind Scarlett's usually carefully maintained expression.
"Which is..."
"Make him angry."
"How could we do that?"
"You have been marked by him—and so you belong to him, in a sense. But if someone were to... violate that..."
It hurt to swallow. "You mean bite me?"
"Perhaps that would be a start. You see, I imagine that his disappearance has a lot to do with your protection. But in feeding from you, it will be the exact opposite outcome he would want. And will hopefully bring him out of hiding, and into a jealous rage."
"What if I don't want to see him again?" The tremor in her voice threatening to betray her, Tifa tried her best to assemble a stern facade.
"You don't have to. Help me, and with Vincent in my care once more, I can take him as far away from you as you want."
"And if I don't want help you?"
Scarlett raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, the shadows playing on her face as she half-turned towards her. "It makes our little plan all the more effective."
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If Cloud sensed Tifa's distraction the following morning at breakfast, he made no comment. He probably thought it was to do with their conversation the previous evening, and most definitely not one involving a vampire. Her food bore no taste, and it took all the effort she could muster to finish her toast, thanking Cloud rather emptily before excusing herself to the shower.
Locking the bathroom door may have been an automatic action, but she noted her continual need to recheck the lock. Paranoia was following her now, if not anything else, and it would seem that it wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon. She selected her clothes without interest, wishing that more than anything she could go back to her apartment in Costa and lock herself away for a little while; long enough to convince herself that it had all been a terrible joke, a sick and twisted dream. No matter how improbable it was that she might just wake up in bed, the last few weeks turning out to be a nightmare, she wished for it with all her might.
Cloud was taking her to Nibelheim dance academy to meet some of his friends and to watch a rehearsal—at least she would be able to sit in one of the plush red velvet seats and just lose herself in the dance and the music for a little while. It had always been an escape for her, at one time. She hoped it could be again.
She noted that the days were incredibly short here, during the Russian winter time. That fact was frightening enough, though only because she knew exactly what sort of things haunted the hours after sundown. Thankfully though, the sun was shining, albeit weakly, and she drew what warmth she could from it.
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Seated amidst the sea of empty velvet chairs, she watched the dancers upon their elegant stage. The music reached her ears, though it did not reach her heart. In fact, she watched with detached resentment. Her limbs were far to heavy now, weighed down by her worries, and the nightmares that plagued her waking hours as well as her fitful slumber. She felt that her feet could not carry her so elegantly, nor so swiftly any longer. Her purpose and her passions were lost to her, hidden amongst the ruins of her dreams.
Tilting her head back, she focused her wandering gaze upon the illustriously painted ceilings—the golden arabesque swirls, the cherubs and the divine scenes all seemed suddenly and hideously out of place here, in this cold, yet marvellous setting. Pretty much like herself. She was a single blossom flower, flourishing just a little out of sync with the others, destined to watch them grow, resplendent in their prime, as she faded into nothing.
"Penny for your thoughts, Tifa?"
She jerked upright from her previously reclined position, lost in reflection. Not exactly sure how she did not notice the arrival of her unfamiliar viewing companion, she took a moment to examine him. A pale, beautiful man with a mane of sable hair, and startling eyes of green. His eyes were framed by light, bruise like shadows, though this didn't detract from his otherwise pleasing demeanour. At first, she would have tagged him as one of them, though there was something about him that made her question her judgement.
"Who are you, and how do you know who I am?" She asked cautiously, shuffling a little away from him, her limbs poised, ready to run. She examined his clothing- nothing too old fashioned, she noted. A smart high-necked jumper and some straight legged pants.
He chuckled softly, apparently content with watching the dancers. "Someone you shouldn't worry about. Scarlett sent me. She thought it might be, ah, reassuring, if someone were watching your back. Or should I say, your-"
"My neck, yes." She finished for her, remaining wary of him, though he laughed easily. "You still haven't told me your name. How did you get here? It's the middle of the day. Or are you... human?"
"My name is Kane. And I am as close enough to being human as can be... without actually being one."
"I don't follow..."
"My family have been aware of Scarlett's kind for centuries, and in exchange for some of their power, we have done their bidding. For we can do what they as Night stalkers can only dream of."
"Walk in the sun?" She assumed, not wanting to ask what exactly it was that Vampires had to offer.
"Exactly. And so, here I am." He removed his attentions from the stage, and fixed them upon her.
"Well, I guess it's nice to have a friendly face around who isn't trying to kill me."
"I am to return to Costa with you, though I shall at least remain in Scarlett's old residence, too give you some space."
"How courteous of you," She said, rather sourly, though it was not intentionally directed at him. Damn Scarlett—why couldn't she have just said this the previous night, instead of pulling off weird stunts like... kissing her for crying out loud! This whole thing was getting weirder, and more frustrating, and more than anything else, she wished she could be at home, in her apartment, watching a cheesy movie with Susanna. Anything for a little monotony—dull yet safe monotony.
"I shall await you there, miss Lockheart."
"Thank you, Kane."
Her viewing partner rose with ease and grace, passing out of the shadows and into the void of darkness which surrounded her, no longer in sight, though he remained in her mind. She watched him go, gnawing on her lip, fighting the building sense of intrigue that threatened to overwhelm her caution. Trust no-one, Tifa. Look where it got you last time.
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To be continued...