Chapter 37 - Mitigation initiation
Presence. That was the word!
Colette had found herself bewildered for a moment, so much so that she had lost grasp of a language she had been speaking for over a century. She found herself struggling for a word to describe Ms Grace Stoker. Then it came to her.
Presence.
Even Colette feels submissive, and it is not the cage that is making her feel that way. Grace's poise, her calm expression, her clothes, they all scream 'my time is money and you can't afford much so get on with it'. Colette used to say the same about her time too, but she doubts this woman has ever had to use her body to get what she wants. It is quite unsettling to think that power can be achieved so easily and at such small personal cost, if a little impressive.
Having failed in her attempts at seduction, with Rook, Colette can't help but feel a little jealous of their guest.
All Grace has done is walk into the room and Rook's slender chops lit up. The minute this vampire entered he turned into a simpering fool. For a man who so clearly finds vampires a deplorable waste of flesh, it is unnerving. He hunches slightly in his grey suit like a sycophant, but tries to standing as tall as he can to compensate.
"Ms Stoker, delighted to meet you, finally. Allow me to intro -"
Grace cuts him off politely with a soft Welsh drawl, "Dominic, yes, yes. A pleasure, I'm sure."
Rook fumbles to shake the hand she proffers, grinning with boyish enthusiasm.
Dominic? Colette thinks to herself as she watches the outwardly awkward exchange. Average name, average man, strange taste in women, weird job. Although distracted by the papers still scattered over the floor around her, she can't help but be vaguely amused and wary of Rook's rapid change of mood. From cruel interrogator to welcoming host in a minute flat.
"And this is?" Grace asks, moving towards Colette with conviction. Colette tries to tidy her appearance. She is acutely aware that there is no inherent sense of camaraderie where her species are concerned. At first, when she had realised Grace was a vampire, Colette thought that maybe she had been sent to have her released. She knows that in reality she is more likely to want her dead.
"Ah, yes, this is Colette Molyneux. She is presently helping us with our enquiries." Rook follows behind Grace. For the first time he looks at Colette as if she is a living being, even if technically she is not. He holds his creepily jovial smile on his face.
"Helping with your enquiries?" Colette frowns. She pulls herself up from the floor shakily. "Prisoner, more like."
Rook's smile is undisturbed but his eyes narrow threateningly at her tone, as if she were some animal that had just defecated on the floor in front of the Queen. Truthfully Colette hardly cares, and neither, it seems, does Grace.
Ms Stoker does not react. Not in the slightest. She smiles, emptily, and slides a perfectly manicured hand through the bars for Colette to shake. The vampire seductress does so with caution.
Grace's handshake is firm, controlled, and brief, she looks Colette in the eyes like a pro and barely blinks. "Pleased to meet you, Colette. My names is Grace Stoker. You can call me Ms Stoker. That goes for you to Dominic, I don't go in for all these informalisms that seem to be the rage these days."
Colette nods, respectfully, hoping that Ms Stoker would recognise that there was no reason for Colette to be held captive, that she is no threat. Not to her anyway, Colette thinks, Rook is a different matter. Right now she would like nothing better than to latch onto Rook's neck and drown her sorrows! Though she suspects his blood is watery, like weak fish broth. She tries not to dart her glance to his throat as she acknowledges the other woman, "Bonjour," Colette nods, retrieving her hand, "Madam."
Why does she feel as if she is being interviewed, or somehow tested to see if she is 'up to snuff'? Colette smiles smugly at her captor, amused that for all the bowing and scraping the man is practically doing, it was she who received the warmer reception. She feels oddly as if she has won something, but stops herself from gloating, catching her behaviour, why does it matter? Vampire or not, she should not care what this woman thinks of her. Not really.
Grace is making no moves to rescue Colette at all. Nothing suggests that this is anything more than a casual visit that might has only paused the game she and Rook had been playing.
The realisation of this leaves Colette mute. The flicker of hope, that had initially danced down her svelte back, like a warm bead of sweat, turns cold.
Suddenly Colette, still reeling from the revelations during her recent and rather raw interrogation, is not sure that she gives a damn what will happen to her. Or at least, that is what she tells herself as Ms Stoker moves away politely. She works the room as if it is a vast office. It is as if the bars of the cell do not exist at all, as if they are not in some shit hole, half dark, half insipidly lit, and mostly damp. Colette's initial awe begins to sour into resentment. On top of everything that has happened, finding out the truth about Belinda, the beginning of the Apocalypse, The Devil, Izzy, being captured, and now, now, here is a vampire strolling in as though she owns the place! What makes her so special!
"Now," Ms Stoker puts her handbag on the table as her previous platitudes fall into seriousness. She turns to Rook, "the situation with your department? Has it been resolved yet? I take it the investment you so begrudgingly sought is still required?"
So that was it...Colette smirked. Money. Grace is money. In Colette's experience, money always had that effect on men, even if it came in a skirt, or in the hands of their most hated enemy.
"Ah, yes, well, I'm delighted to tell you that as of this morning we are back up and running." Rook beams, clearly very pleased with himself. Never mind the approaching Apocalypse, apart from that everything's just peachy, Colette thinks, rolling her eyes as she watches the pair through the bars, she can hear the incoming 'but' like a claxon.
"Wonderful," Ms Stoker smiles politely. "And our other venture?"
"Indeed, we're well on track for -" Rook starts but is interrupted by a mechanical beep.
Ms Stoker's attention snaps to her purse. She reaches inside and pulls out a small black device, pressing buttons without a thought for Rook, who falls silent. He folds his hands neatly behind his back, and waits, rocking a little on his heels and trying not to look at Colette who leans herself up against the bars with amusement at this little theatre. He seems to be working hard to put across the image that he not at all concerned that he has been interrupted by a piece of technology. Colette grins. He clearly is.
Soon, with a smile, Grace returns the device back into her bag and looks at Rook expectantly.
Rook picks up where he left off, "As I was saying, we are on track for the deal to progress as planned. Please accept my most -"
Again the device in Grace's bag beeps. Again she retrieves it, with total disregard for Rook. Again Rook falls silent and waits patiently. This time Ms Stoker takes the time to write something in a small, leather-bound notebook before returning her attention to him.
Colette can't help but marvel at the woman again, and the hold she has over him without seeming to really try at all. She tries to suck it all in, if she ends up as dust she is only glad she has had the oportunity to see her tormentor humiliated like this. If she end up locked away for centuries, it is this moment she will hold on to in order to smile in the darkness.
" - My most sincere apologies," Rook finishes without losing his smile.
Colette tries not to stare.
Ms Stoker continues, "Your apologies are all well and good, Dominic, but they're worthless to me. What I require is assurance that nothing of the sort will happen again. I cannot have my time wasted and if this is going to work I can't have any hiccups with your department's throughput. There are other options for us you know, options I am sure would not be considered human-friendly. I would rather not go there."
Rook brings forth his most sincere and sycophantic of faces, his smile only now moulding into something that shows how serious he is capable of being. "Of course, Ms Stoker, I understand fully. I do offer my honest assurances, it was only a slight hiccup. The Department is stable again for the long-run."
"En dehors de l'apocalypse vous bouffon" Colette mutters under her breath.
Rook shoots a glare her way again, obviously understanding her French well enough to catch her meaning, though again Ms Stoker pays her no heed.
"So, with that in mind, do you have something for me, Dominic?" Grace asks, less a question, more an expectation. Rook's face falls slightly, his smile becoming forced.
"I... No I'm afraid not."
"You don't?" One of Grace's fine, plucked eyebrows raises, ever so slightly. Colette supposes that in this woman's unflappable persona, this small movement is what passes for surprise. "Well. That is disappointing," she sighs.
Rook is instantaneous with his platitudes. he pushes his hands together apologetically.
"But it is only a brief set-back! I promise you! As I said in my emails to your assistant, The Archive was briefly in jeopardy, only put back on its feet this morning. Our supplies are temporarily depleted at the moment, but we will be replenishing stock immediately. The scheme will be in place again in no time."
The other vampire stands still poised, but clearly dissatisfied despite his platitudes during which she had whipped out her mobile again, and had absently began scanning through it. When Rook had finished she was tapping keys, quite obviously bored of his excuses.
He continues, despite this, to desperately win her favour again. "I know that this isn't the way you like to do business, Ms Stoker, and believe me neither do I, but there are mitigating circumstances, you must..." His voice has sped up. He has also gone up a pitch in his tone.
Grace simply ignores him until he runs out of air and confidence. An awkward silence lands in between them.
Eventually she puts her phone away, and sighs, "I'm sorry to say that you've let me down Dominic, really, you have. You and your department showed so much promise, but never mind that. What are they?" she points one long talon at the papers scattered by Grace's feet.
Rook's jaw flaps open. He is clearly taken aback. For a moment, he is silenced, his glassy blue eyes searching Ms Stoker's, for any hint of a reason why she would be concerned with such a minute detail.
Colette too is surprised. She hadn't thought Grace had paid much attention to her. It seems she may have been wrong.
"I'm sorry, the...the documents?" Rook asked with confusion.
Grace waited serenely, patiently, for him to gather her meaning. She waited until the disappointment at her having to repeat herself became profound.
"Yes, Dominic, the documents."
The way she says his name, it's as if she is chastising an ignorant child.
Rook flounders, his speech staccato and nervous, "Just ...just a file...on a person of interest." He searches for, and finds, a false bravado, "As I said, Colette is helping us with our enquiries."
Grace glances at the papers, and Colette could have sworn it was the first time she had done so since she entered the room. "Dominic, before we finish our business, you're going to tell me what it is your Department wants with Belinda Weaver."
Colette huffs out a laugh through her shock. She isn't sure why she is surprised. Apparently the world, his wife and their dog knows Belinda, one more person shouldn't make a difference. She wonders briefly if she is suffering some sort of delusion, or perhaps a particularly stubborn nightmare. Little chance of that, but a girl can hope.
She notices that Grace is watching her, a small smile upon her lips.
"I take it you know Ms Weaver," Graces asks sedately.
"I did, a long time ago."
"And how did you know her exactly?"
Colette thinks carefully before answering. "I helped her," she replies with a shrug, as if it were nothing.
Grace's smile widens slightly. There is a genuine warmth to it that Colette had not expected. It is the first natural moment that has passed over Grace's poised features.
"She trusted you."
"Yes, Ms Stoker, it would seem she did."
"Then you were very lucky."
Rook, whose attention has been bouncing between the women as if he were watching a tennis match, interrupts, "Allow me to explain."
Grace would clearly rather he hadn't spoken. He fails to realise this, and continues with enthusiasm, "When I say Colette is helping us, what I mean is that she is merely providing information on Miss Weaver. Information, which I believe, may be of some significant importance. You may not be aware about what is happenin outside, Ms Stoker."
Grace waits, silently, as Rook pauses for effect. His gesticulations posture above, to what Colette presumes is the world. Grace clearly understands everything and is no more behind the curve with her news than she ought to be, but she does nothing. Rook takes her silence, it seems, as if he is not making himself clear, "Ms Weaver, we believe had some scheme that was relevant to the current situation outside. You see, it appears that - "
Grace shakes her head slightly and holds up a finger, stopping him again. She retrieves the small device from her purse again smoothly, tapping a few buttons and holding it up to her ear.
"I am well aware of the present situation, Dominic," says Grace with a sigh as the phone rings.
Colette can hear the faint ring on the other end as the call connects.
"All I asked of you was one thing."
Rook waits. He seems to be shrinking. His shoulders are hunching inwards.
"Had you done that one thing, I would not have to enact my Apocalypse mitigation strategies, which are not without considerable cost in the short run. It will make everything a lot harder." She tuts to herself and then looks at Rook with admonishment, as though he should have known this fact all along.
Rook struggles for words. When it looks as though he might have found something to say it is too late, Grace's finger is pushed up into the air like an antenna, halting all conversation. The person on the other line answers the call before he can say much other than an astonished: "A - Apocalypse mitigation strategies?"
Grace paces calmly towards the door, opens it and steps into the corridor.
"Trevelyan," she says, "I need you to bring me the item." She pauses and turns back to Rook, all business and stony faced determination. "We're going to need to pay a visit to my bank. You're coming, Dominic, and you'll bring Ms Molyneux if you know what's good for you."
Colette catches her eye, as Grace nods towards her, to indicate to Rook that her presence is required for whatever this apocalypse mitigation entails. She can't help but feel reassured by the woman's demeanor, by her surety that her scheme is going to work, and that this too may have something to do with Belinda. She knows that she should be terrified, should want to escape or refuse to help, but she has come this far, has been involved for this long. She might as well see this through to its conclusion. Not that she feels she has much choice in the matter.
Rook looks over at Colette with a pale, deathly concerned expression as Ms Stoker leads the way. He adjusts his tie. He buttons his jacket. His hands are shaking.
Colette can already almost feel Rook's skin piercing beneath her fangs, his tangy, slick, but decidedly average blood sliding down her throat in gulps. Her stomach flutters in response. Her mouth waters with anticipation.
A/N: Continued work with Ms Katy Newt on this. Thanks Ms N.