Rick breathed through the painful pounding in his eardrums, relieved that at least the ringing had subsided. It was taking longer than usual to heal.
Luckily, the high of playing the guitar again, in front of a live audience, counteracted the throbbing in the back of his brain. The rush had almost been as thrilling as feeding on a donor for the first time.
"Michonne's blood results came back," Daryl said, handing Rick a handkerchief. "She's 100% human."
Rick dipped the handkerchief in his glass of water, using the damp cloth to wipe the dried blood from his healing ears. The two-hour show had pushed him to his limits. He'd need to feed again before the next performance.
"She is," Rick said, "but not the spirit living inside of her." If he'd been in doubt before, he was dead sure after being in such close proximity with her - that voice was anything but human.
"Spirit? Of what?" Daryl had seen a lot in his eight years as Rick's familiar, but his interactions had been limited to vampires and other familiars. He had yet to come into contact with the other supernaturals that existed alongside Rick's kind.
"A siren, best I can tell." Rick had spent hours pouring over his personal collection of books, combing through tomes that held knowledge cultivated at the very beginnings of the supernatural race - long before humans even developed the ability to speak - to find the key to Michonne's true nature. Her singing had always had a unique effect on him, pulled him to her, coaxing him to trust and obey. It's the reason he never stayed through an entire show and why he made sure to keep his distance. The closer he was to her, the stronger the pull.
Resisting her caused him pain. Being by her side caused him pain. When it came down to a choice between the two, he would always choose the latter. How much of that choice was a result of his own will was up for debate.
Rick and Daryl were backstage, amongst the crew he'd hired to support the band on the road. They were vampires from Rick's clan, all eager to get on his good side. It never failed to surprise him how lesser vampires flocked to power, hoping to have it somehow rub off on them.
He hadn't asked for any of it. Not to be the head of the Puget Sound clan and certainly not for this latest promotion.
But Deanna had placed him in leadership early on, seeing something in him that he hadn't seen in himself. Unfortunately, the new power not only came with the responsibility of protecting the vampires in his clan, but made him the target of his older counterpart, Phillip, who'd made it his mission to remove Rick from leadership once and for all.
Making a play for Michonne was his rival's latest scheme. Unbeknownst to Phillip, Michonne was off limits. He'd crossed a line that required Rick to remove his rival as a threat permanently.
"Didn't know sirens ever existed," Daryl said.
"Neither did I, before this. Which is why I need to keep her as close to me as possible."
"I thought you were keeping your distance."
In these past few years, Daryl had spent more time around Michonne than Rick had, ensuring her safety and well-being from the shadows. Clan business kept him occupied the majority of the time, only allowing him to keep tabs on Michonne mainly through his familiar's weekly reports.
"The best way to protect Michonne is to make sure she's by my side. At all times."
"That's gonna be tough with the ceremony tomorrow night. And the Governor's gonna find her eventually."
"Which is why I'll save him the trouble."
"How?"
"By bringing her to him. As my guest tomorrow night."
Daryl's face remained impassive, but Rick could sense the doubt in his voice. "If you bring her with you…"
"It means she's off limits to everyone, including the Governor."
"It'd mean a hell of a lot more than that."
Rick examined Daryl closely. His second-in-command had never been adamant about much of anything, let alone the well-being of a human. The main reason Rick had chosen him as his familiar was because he was the first human he'd met without a tell. Rick could figure out most people within the first few minutes of meeting them, but had yet to see Daryl shaken by anything - until today; and they'd been working together going on eight years.
"I've made my choice," Rick said with the finality he'd honed as the leader of a clan of competitively disobedient vampires.
"And Michonne?" Daryl asked.
"I'll enlighten her when the time comes." Rick refused to let the pinch of guilt dampen his resolve. Michonne's safety remained his top priority. "It's the only way I can guarantee her protection."
Daryl smirked. "She's gonna be pissed."
Michonne had hated him for the last twenty years. What difference would another month or two make?
Michonne stared at the silk dress in the black gift box. She lay in bed surrounded by similar gift boxes of various sizes - five in total - which had arrived by courier soon after she'd returned home from the performance.
All that accompanied the gifts, wrapped in red ribbon, was a handwritten note: WEAR THESE. It was funny, really, how after all these years, she still recognized Rick's neat, all-cap handwriting.
She'd unwrapped the shoes first, 4" gold sandals with ankle wraps of an exquisitely red and gold geometric print. Next, was the polished gold bracelet, that wrapped around nearly half of her forearm, followed by the gold purse decorated in bold rubies that had to be worth more than Michonne could make in one night of the tour.
The last - and largest - box held a red violet dress so silky, that it ran through her fingers like milk.
"Bastard," Michonne mumbled, still upset by the thought of how moved she'd been. No gift, however lavish, could make up for all that she'd lost as a result of taking Rick at his word; at trusting him with the lives of her loved ones.
She spooned more mashed butternut squash into her mouth, the sweet and salty mixture melting on her tongue. It was her mother's recipe, one she'd carried in her mind all these years. The food offered comfort in more ways than one.
Michonne groaned at the sound of a key in the lock of the front door of her studio apartment. She pulled the comforter over her head, cradling her bowl of food, as she heard the door open and close.
Footsteps spanned the short distance from her door to her bed. Living in Tacoma was growing increasingly unaffordable and the modest studio was all she could afford on the band's earnings. From what they would get from the tour, she'd be able to upgrade to a studio on the side of the building overlooking the waterfront.
"You better be dressed under there," Andrea said, before peeling the comforter away.
Andrea and Michonne had been inseparable since college. They each had a key to the other's apartment, with an open invitation to drop by any time. Their sisterhood often caused tension with Mike, who felt entitled to privacy while spending time in her apartment. Michonne made it clear that she would never risk a friendship over a romantic relationship, no matter how well Mike might have been putting it down in the bedroom. She felt a knot in her throat remembering their argument the night he died.
"What is this? Squash?" Andrea gagged, snatching the mixing bowl from Michonne. "You really need to up your junk food game. Pathetic."
Michonne had been vegan since college. She'd inherited lactose intolerance from her mother and consuming dead animals had never been all that satisfying for her.
"It's got butter in it," Michonne said defensively.
"Real butter?" Andrea eyed her.
"No," Michonne mumbled. "But the stuff has a shitload of calories."
"Whatever," Andrea placed the bowl of squash on Michonne's nightstand, far out of reach. "I'm not here to discuss your infuriatingly healthy eating habits." She squinted her eyes in that way that was half angry and half mischievous. "Rick. What the hell is going on between the two of you? And why haven't I ever heard of him until tonight?"
Michonne moved to pull the comforter back over her head. "Not now, Drea."
But Andrea was quicker, ripping the blanket from her hands. "Spill. Now."
Michonne sighed coolly. "There's nothing to spill."
"Bullshit. You disappear, without so much as a text, and Mike goes AWOL. And then this sinfully hot guy shows up out of nowhere, claiming that he's not only an old friend of yours, but he's also filling in for Mike." She motioned to the shaved side of her head. "And I have yet to mention the hair."
"I'm a grown woman who reserves the right to change my hair color at any time, thank you." If only that were really the case. No matter how many times she washed her hair, the red remained; a glaring reminder of the mysterious death of the vampire who'd bitten her.
"Is Rick the real reason Mike left?"
Michonne wished it were that simple. She'd have to go along with Rick's lie - for now. Plus, she wasn't sure what might happen to Andrea and Sasha if she didn't. He was a vampire after all.
"Nothing's going on between me and Rick. He's just someone I met in passing. And you know Mike," she said nonchalantly. "He's a bit…disagreeable at times, but he's as invested in the success of this tour as we are."
Lying came more naturally to Michonne than she'd ever willingly admit. Her brief stint in foster care had taught her that a thoughtfully-crafted, well-timed lie could tip fortune in her favor, when needed. And yet, having to lie about her dead ex-boyfriend gave her pause. Her only consolation was that she'd mourned Mike properly, sobbing in the tub like the runner-up of a beauty pageant. And then she'd made a huge bowl of mashed butternut squash to chew away any residual grief.
"Are you sure you want to kick Rick out?" Andrea asked, unforgivingly examining Michonne. Her friend could have been an excellent litigator.
After the show, Michonne had demanded that Rick leave - for good. Instead of leaving, he'd made a proposal.
"I'll leave the band," he said, in a way that made her chide herself for believing him. "But only if you accompany me to an event. Tomorrow night."
He'd had the nerve to put her on the spot in front of her band members, offering a proposal she had no choice but to accept. She'd do almost anything to make him disappear as swiftly as he'd reappeared in her life. No good would come of her being close to a destroyer like Rick, no matter how phenomenal he was at the guitar. Mike's death was proof of that.
"Rick's the best I've seen in a while, Mich," Andrea continued.
Michonne rolled her eyes. "You said the same thing about Mike."
"And I was right. I'm just sayin'…it's odd that you just want to throw him to the curb, especially if he's a friend of yours. And about Mike, maybe if you two hadn't started screwin' around in the first place, we wouldn't need to replace him. Rick's about the best we can do on such short notice." Andrea was an opportunist when it came to putting in her two cents.
"Just drop it, Drea. I've made my decision." Michonne refused to wrestle with the memories Rick's presence brought to the surface, regardless of her friend's thoughts on the matter.
Andrea took the hint. Her eyes drifted to the dress. "This from him?"
Michonne nodded.
Andrea ran her hand along the fabric, whistling in appreciation. "If I'd known his deal included gifts like this, I would've saved you the trouble and volunteered to go in your place."
Michonne never doubted Andrea's sincerity for one second. "I attend this party with him and then he leaves the band. And everything goes back to normal." Whatever that normal was, at this point.
"And you're sure that's what you want?" Andrea asked.
"Rick's out and Terry's in. End of story."
Getting Rick out of her life was the only way to guarantee the safety of the ones she cared about most in this world. He'd failed to protect her family the first time around; there was no way she'd give him another chance to let her down.
"The ribbon looks good like that," Rick said.
Michonne could feel that vampire gaze probing her hair. She'd weaved the red ribbons from the gift boxes into her elegant updo.
Her focus remained on the darkening landscape that swept by as Rick's driver navigated the deserted roads. She could just barely make out the lush Evergreens in the thick fog that had settled over the plot of land that was completely surrounded by water.
She'd avoided conversation with Rick for most of the ferry ride from Tacoma to Vashon Island. To think that all this time, she'd lived less than ten minutes from an island inhabited by a clan of vampires; a small fact Rick had mentioned on their way to the ferry.
"Stay close to me and don't look anyone in the eye," he'd said. "Humans are fair game if they wander off alone."
Michonne remained cool, though the thought of being surrounded by bloodthirsty vampires set her teeth on edge.
"No one will lay a hand on you," Rick had assured.
The conversation had ended there, with Michonne having no choice but to trust him, however uncertain she was about his intentions. She continued ignoring him, needing to dampen the flux of emotions that had surfaced earlier, when he'd admired her walking out of her apartment building wearing his dress, which was draped to enhance her curves in all the right places.
They're predators, Michonne reminded herself. It had been less than three days since she'd learned of the existence of vampires, yet she hated them with a fury greater than the rage she imbued in her music. Mike was dead, not due to any fault of his own, simply because he'd gotten in the way of a monster. It still hurt when she thought about him, but at least now her chest didn't tighten up like fist when she recalled the look of horror and confusion on his face before he died.
The third track from her latest and most popular album - I Hate Cute - played in the background as they made their way to the other side of the island. Caught was the first song she'd ever written, reworked to best represent her as she was now. It'd been during the darkest time of her life, when she'd become a ward of the state for the three months before she turned eighteen.
The lyrics held an eerie relevance to her life in the present:
Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance is bliss.
Ignorance is bliss.
What you don't know won't hurt you.
However, now was not the time to turn a blind eye to all she'd experienced in the past few days; doing so would get her killed.
She turned to Rick, her need for information outweighing her anger. "I have questions. You owe me answers."
His single nod was conciliatory. "Ask me anything you want. You've waited long enough."
Michonne fired off her first question. "Why did you leave the day before…that night?" There was no need to specify any further, there was only one night that connected their convoluted pasts.
Rick's expression remained unreadable. "I was meeting with a private investigator. He'd found a lead on your father."
Michonne breathed through the fear that churned in her belly at the mention of her father, but pressed forward. "He found us before you found him." Rick clenched his jaw in response. So, he wasn't completely heartless after all. "How?"
Rick's eyes dropped to the ground briefly before returning to face her. "Through Andre's school."
Andre had just started preschool then. Her hands trembled slightly at the memory of how her younger brother's eyes would light up every time she arrived to pick him up from school.
Rick reached over, wrapping his hand around hers. It was surprisingly warm. "Michonne, I never meant to-"
Michonne snatched her hand away, swallowing back the tears. "Save it," she said with venom. This was all she could handle, if she planned on holding it together for the rest of the night. "The band is leaving Tacoma tomorrow and the two of us are parting ways for good. That was the deal."
Her glare melted in the face of the smile that worked more than just her last nerve.
"I like the acoustic version better," he said.
"What?" she asked, momentarily distracted from her anger.
"The acoustic version of this song."
Michonne's heart skipped a beat. The acoustic version of Caught had been her first single, which she'd paid for with the funds she'd saved from waitressing part-time in college. She'd only made ten copies of that demo, most of which she gave away for free. She'd laid her heart bare in that song. Living in the present, with the burden of the past hovering over her shoulder, had become burdensome; songwriting had been her only way to process all of that.
"Why don't you play the guitar anymore?" he asked.
She would never admit that she'd focused on singing because the guitar reminded her too much of him. He'd taught her to play.
"Have you always been a vampire?" she asked, awkwardly shifting the conversation.
"Yes."
It made sense now. Rick had only ever met with her mother at night, to go over the details of the case against her father.
"Are you still a lawyer?"
He nodded. "I've given up litigation, though. I own a law firm in Seattle that specializes in contracts."
He'd been so close - and yet so far - this whole time. She suddenly realized why Daryl had seemed so familiar to her the first time they met. "You've been keeping tabs on me."
"I've checked in on you occasionally."
Considering his resources, kicking Rick out of the band would likely not remove him from her life completely. She'd figure all of that out later.
"Did you have anything to do with Mike's death?"
"Of course not."
Michonne was momentarily shaken by the adamance in his deep voice.
"What happened to the vampire that bit me - was that normal?"
"You're different," was his vague response.
"Is there something wrong with me?" She'd been haunted by the thought for years, ever since that horrible night so long ago.
"You're definitely human, if that's what you're asking."
She believed him, but felt there was more to it than that.
I'm human. And that's all I need to know, she decided.
The guitar solo of Caught captured Michonne's wandering attention and her thoughts drifted to Mike. He'd never been good at expressing his feelings, but he poured emotion into his instrument with a finesse that couldn't be captured by words. His skill had initially attracted her to him; his authenticity was what kept her coming back. He'd only made her life more worth living, despite the fights that riddled their relationship. He'd taken the band - and her career - to a whole new level and she'd always be grateful for his presence in her life.
"Did you love him?" Rick asked, bringing her back.
"Huh?" Michonne asked, both flustered and irritated by his question.
"Mike. Did you love him?"
The stillness with which he awaited her response both frightened and enticed her. She imagined vampires thrived on human insecurity and fear.
"I cared about him."
"Of course. But he wasn't enough for you." The matter-of-fact way he said it only ignited her anger.
"Don't act like you know anything about me. I'm not the girl you used to know."
"I've noticed," he said, his eyes flitting to the crook of her neck. Michonne's pulse sped up under his gaze. It was his turn to look away.
She shifted in her seat, taking a few deep breaths to mitigate the flash of heat spreading in her chest. Rick remained silent for the rest of the ride and Michonne was grateful for it, though she took the opportunity to finally take him in.
The tailored lines of his three-piece charcoal suit were reminiscent of the 1950s, the dot detail of his matching tie adding a bit of whimsy to his look. His white dress shirt was pressed to perfection. His trousers clung to the slim, muscular thighs that looked as good in a suit as they did in jeans.
She wondered at Rick's true age, whether the suit he wore was one he'd bought in the fifties and if he'd appeared to be in his late thirties during that time as well.
The town car turned onto a gravel driveway that seemed to go on forever.
"Stay by my side," he reminded her. "And whatever you do tonight, do not sing."
She ignored the odd request. "Stop trying to tell me what-"
Rick was suddenly right next to her, his thigh pressing into her, his eyes glued to hers. Though his vampire powers failed to work on her, his masculinity made her draw a shaky breath. Michonne's eyes drifted to his full pink lips and the image of him slowly - hesitantly - pulling her into his arms and kissing her, his hidden fangs poking into in her bottom lip, sent her pulse into hyperdrive.
"Promise me," he whispered, his blue eyes becoming seductively dark and ominous.
"I promise," she whispered back before she could stop herself.
A/N: Life got pretty hectic there and I posted this one later than expected, but I hope the longer chapter makes up for the delay. :) The lyrics in this chapter are from Tamar-Kali's Caught. We're going to meet some new characters in the next chapter, including Rick's maker, so I hope you feel compelled to stick around for more. I'm so grateful to find that so many people are interested in this paranormal Richonne romance. As always, thank you for the amazing feedback, faves and follows! Happy Thanksgiving!