Chapter Song: "Forsaken" - Korn
Gwen
I stood still, my head tilted to the side as I hummed under my breath. Whilst I waited for Bishop to finish talking to Francois, I studied the walls. They were ornate, though nothing like what I was used to, a pale blue colour, trimmed with golden mountings and a soft, pale grey hue that spread over them like a midwinter frost. The ceilings were high here, though once again, nothing compared to those in my home, and the many chandeliers that adored the opulent room were all glass and crystal, their glimmering lights bathing us in a warm glow.
Of course the room was entirely at odds with the business conducted within. The large mahogany table in the centre was where Bishop spoke to his war council, and at my end of the room were the two thrones, mahogany again, although these were older, roughly hewn and studded with iron spikes. The backs of the thrones were somewhat detailed, the carnage of wars long forgotten carved into them, perfectly rendering the horrors that had passed. The edging was a pale, bleached yellow colour. It was made from fragments of bone, ripped from enemies who had dared to oppose Bishop.
All in all, I thought it was rather mismatched. But even I couldn't deny the shiver that ran through me when I looked upon the thrones, knowing just what the people who had sat in them had done.
I glanced back to where Bishop was, seated atop his throne like a king, and froze. He was staring at me, a small smile upon his face, which made my blood turn cold and evoked the instinct to run away. He was like a predator, with his prey caught in a trap.
I just had to remember that I was a predator too.
I tilted my head to the right, spinning lightly on my feet and coming to stand before him. My movements were quick, lithe, and controlled. Everything was coordinated, planned, that was how the game had to be done. All of it. It was how I would win; stealth. To go directly against Bishop or Amelie would be as futile as a human against a vampire. I had my own agenda, and it would collide with both of theirs, but not until I was ready. I would win. I would be victorious. But until then, I would be a shadow; constantly changing, intangible, and inescapable.
I bowed before Bishop, my head just touching the floor before I snapped back up, my eyes meeting his with a smile. I was bloodthirsty, and just for a second I toyed with the idea of the cold silver on my back slicing through Bishop's neck, and then watching his lifeless body burn as I sat in his throne.
But instead I merely tilted my head to the side again, studying him. Waiting.