As per usual, I own absolutely zero of LJ Smith's stuff, but the original
plotline and characters are mine.
I crave your suggestions, opinions, reviews, criticism, praise, ideas, tips and all that stuff! So please give me some! ^_^ Thanks a lot!
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Slowly, painfully slowly, the foggy mist of oblivion that danced inside Ella's pounding head began to clear. First it was sight that returned to her; the smothering darkness faded into a blood-red colour, as she became aware of light shining through her closed lids. As soon as she felt able, she slowly opened her sleep-blurred midnight blue eyes, squinting and grimacing as the startlingly garish kaleidoscope of colours dazzled her. Gradually, she became accustomed to this. Hearing returned to her almost instantly after this, like an explosion as another dimension was added to her senses. Then feeling. She knew that the leather upholstery comfortably cushioned her currently paralysed and pathetic body, that the window beside her blew a fresh breeze into her face, that she was cold, and that her hair needed a good brush. Then it was smell that came to her; the damp, earthiness of rain soaked vegetation, and the pungency of a resinous cologne mixed with stale sweat, which was totally repulsive. She spluttered, tasting the strong fragrance because droplets of it had wafted into her open mouth. She wondered if she really did sleep with her mouth open, and hoped that she had not drooled everywhere.
Then there were several bizarre moments. Ella saw that she was still in the front seat of the Mercedes. That damn 'wolf was still driving. The scenery had changed; no longer the bustling freeways of Las Vegas, but a dark and threatening forest, lush green, but still impregnated with an almost tangible thrill of danger and blood. She could see, smell, taste and hear and feel. But the ability to move had not yet come to her. She supposed that this was how people felt when they woke up from anaesthetic during an operation, but they could not tell anyone that they had. Helplessly trapped inside their own puny bodies, mentally shrivelling up from the agony being unknowingly inflicted upon them. But this nightmare was no accident. Bleeding Thistles had done this to her. Ella didn't know a lot about the place, but already she was beginning to hate it. People always said 'never judge a book by its cover' but Ella never listened to them. If the shoe fits, it fits.
The 'wolf, John, eyed her with a supercilious grin. If it was possible, he looked even greasier than before. Was taking a shower beyond his capabilities? And, even more gallingly, he looked utterly remorseless in spite of his deceptions. It gave her one tiny morsel of comfort to see the ugly red gash that she had rent in his face looked sore and painful. But he was in control at the moment, and she hated it.
"Can't move yet, right? Yeah, it's all the same. Movement's always the last thing to come. But before you attack me, I'll just let you know that I'm wearing this." He displayed a strange looking, witchy type amulet that hung from a frayed cord round his neck. "Protection charms. Standard issue," he said smugly, before turning back to the road.
Ella felt like a lemon. Even when movement finally returned to her, she felt as content as a ski jacket in Barbados. Her reaction was to lash out at John, despite his corny warning. Obviously his whole smug protection thing was not garbage, because as soon as she got within a centimetre of his person, she was shoved violently away by some magical force field around him. After recovering from the powerful blow, she scowled. Glowering, she turned to face him.
"How come you weren't wearing that thing before?" She frowned. "You are a bastard," she spat as an afterthought, before an overwhelming bout of melancholy engulfed her. Suddenly she found herself close to tears. She was cut adrift, an innocent vampire about to be initiated into the darkness. And she was afraid, scared almost witless, and fighting to hide her feelings of despair and terror. It was not fair. It should not have been her. But fate had determined its victim at last, and she was going to the slaughter, ever unwilling, but unable to resist its lure.
"I forgot it. It was in the glove compartment," said John with a crooked grin. "You wanna hear about BT?" Ella did not reply as she sunk into a sulky mood. He carried on regardless. "The grounds surrounding the BT facilities are vast and expansive, made up of mostly woodland, like this, and some moor land and marshes to the east," he added. He gave her a look that was exasperated, sympathetic and amused, all at the same time. Ella sniffled quietly. Even though she knew he'd hear her, she hoped that he would ignore it. Thankfully, John rambled on.
As he spoke, Ella rummaged around in her trouser pocket; looking for the thing Mavis had given her just before she'd left. Dragging it out, she saw it was a golden topaz and sapphire pendant, set in elegant silver. She made a fist round it, remembering how Mavis had always worn the thing. The memories tore brutally at her failing spirit. She missed her foster mom acutely, almost as if it was a physical ache.
"BT is Bleeding Thistles by the way. Kind of like an affectionate nickname if you will. They built this road privately, covered it in asphalt and everything. The base is like an old mansion, both modern and ancient. Which do you prefer?"
She felt the 'wolf's expectant eyes on her, as if he waited for an answer.
"Great," she stated flatly, hoping that it was appropriate......... John was certainly an odd guy. Shy and assertive all at once, never predictable, always changing. One minute he was quiet, the next, he blurted out the most incredibly odd things. He was an enigma, she decided. One that should be watched closely.
"The base is cloaked. Warding spells. Very effective against intruders, Daybreaker spies, and extremely..." He looked across at the girl. She was gorgeous of course; even more beautiful than even the everyday Night People he encountered, with windswept brown hair, her naivety, her stubborn spirit, and her soulful, wide eyes, pools of mesmerising blue. But there was something intrinsically sad and wistful about her, about the way she was staring into space, resting her soft cheek on her slim and delicate hand, ignoring even the tiniest bits of information he was giving her. He was getting a little pissed off with the vampire. Most of that was because she had unwittingly made him feel... No, he told himself firmly. He opted for the easy road, to banish the little lamia from his thoughts. The chances were that she'd be dead before the week was out. He couldn't help but feel an odd queasiness inside him as he imagined that, no matter how much he denied it. With steely determination, John pressed the accelerator to the floor, and stared resolutely ahead.
The depression had stolen up on Ella yet again; memories of a past life flooded her battered senses. She and Alex had been so tight, closer than a brother and sister were normally. She could never pinpoint where it had all gone wrong, where he had chosen his own path and left her to carry on alone. Was it her fault? She was no angel, certainly, but Alex had never had much of a problem with it. He'd loved her, as she was, warts and all. But slowly, something had changed, and Alex had become different, almost without anyone noticing. Like how nobody notices that they are becoming taller, growing all the time, until one fine day you wake up to find that the sleeves of your favourite jumper are too short and your trousers only reach to your shins. Like that.
"Why do you do that?" asked John, startling Ella out of her doze.
"What?"
"Pity yourself. Get over it."
"What?" Ella was genuinely shocked. What the fuck was he on about? "What right have you to... Wait. How did you know..."
"We're here, princess," he interrupted with an ironic smile.
Before Ella had a chance to ask just how he'd known what she'd been thinking, the car slowed down and pulled up in a small glade. As far as Ella could see, there was nothing, except the green, green grass of home, and a couple of trees and all that rubbish. The smartly paved road just seemed to stop.
"I don't see any..." In mid-sentence, she was silenced by the most spectacular piece of magic she'd ever seen.
Where there had once been nothing, a shimmering occurred. It was as if the very fabric of time was trembling. The effect was strange and eerie. Then, the quaking got more violent and vehement, and watching it made Ella's eyes go all funny, as if they doubted this peculiar vision, that was so bold and unreal, and extremely weird. The view of woodland rippled like the surface of a lake, disturbed by a stone. Then, out of nowhere, a gigantic mansion appeared, a castle.
"Wow," said Ella. She was in shock. As she had not had many particularly close witch friends, their magic was bewildering and alien. Especially something on this large scale.
"Wow indeed," said John, mentioning nothing about how he had explained all the precautions taken at BT earlier. Ella opened the car door and stumbled out, her eyes still trained upon the base in a suspicious manner, refusing to trust it.
It was a magnificent building, in the style of an ancient gothic castle. She couldn't help but think that the looming walls, soaring turrets, ornately huge windows, yawningly wide doors and creepy gargoyles were humorously appropriate. The stonework was coloured an impassive slate grey, creeper clad in places, the red fingers twining and crawling upon the fine architecture. It was a spooky looking place, forbidding, the stuff of horror movies.
"Home sweet home, right?" she remarked acidly.
John had since got out her small suitcase from the boot of the car and joined her.
"It may look pretty grim, but inside it's much better," he said reassuringly. Ella looked him in surprise. He was certainly very unpredictable.
"Yeah," she said softly.
"Feverfew, I see you've brought one of our new arrivals to us," a male voice said behind them. "What happened to your face?"
John changed at once. He stood stiffly and formally, his head bowed, eyes never looking at the man who had just spoken.
He looked about twenty, but she sensed at once that his true age was a much larger figure. Clearly he was a vampire, but she was not sure if he was made or lamia. His icy grey eyes were pitiless, merciless and glittering with a sadistic arrogance and self- assurance that was awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. He was tall, taller than her and John anyway. His face was hard, sculpted in granite, a sneer on his lips. His blonde hair was as pale as frost. He was muscular and predatory. Ella was at once fearful, and slammed walls round her mind, shielding her thoughts from this monster.
"This is Ella Elizabeth Pinefrost, sir," said John in a clipped and respectful tone, with the barest hint of resentfulness. "I had an accident with a... penknife, sir." What a stupid excuse, she thought, wondering if the man would realise he was being lied to.
But, barely registering John's statements, the man turned his attention to Ella. "Miss Pinefrost. Welcome to Bleeding Thistles," he said. His voice was cold, brusque, and calm. "I am Aldred. That is all you need to know for now."
"That will be all, Feverfew," said Aldred to John, acknowledging him with a careless nod. Ella was shocked at his strange treatment of John, but said nothing. She wondered also why John had lied about the scratch she'd inflicted upon him.
"Miss Pinefrost, this way," Aldred said. He had already begun approaching the BT base, walking at a quick pace. He wore a long leather jacket, brown trousers and a grey t-shirt. Ella hurried to keep up with his long stride, clutching her case. She wondered for the millionth time why vampires always loved black leather. Aldred didn't look the sort of guy to have a kinky fetish. But it was always the quiet ones... Giggling mentally at the absurd thought, she followed Aldred up the steep stone steps and along the paved terrace to the grand oak door that was the gigantic entrance to the base.
Here goes, she thought, the dread and apprehension rising in her stomach, nausea and nervousness adding to her fear. Aldred stopped at the door and knocked three times. The hollow noise echoed spookily. After several minutes, the gloomy portal was opened with a painful-sounding creak, and Aldred ushered her in, to the shadows within.
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Excruciatingly long chapter! Don't forget to review, my dear old chums! Thanks!
I crave your suggestions, opinions, reviews, criticism, praise, ideas, tips and all that stuff! So please give me some! ^_^ Thanks a lot!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Slowly, painfully slowly, the foggy mist of oblivion that danced inside Ella's pounding head began to clear. First it was sight that returned to her; the smothering darkness faded into a blood-red colour, as she became aware of light shining through her closed lids. As soon as she felt able, she slowly opened her sleep-blurred midnight blue eyes, squinting and grimacing as the startlingly garish kaleidoscope of colours dazzled her. Gradually, she became accustomed to this. Hearing returned to her almost instantly after this, like an explosion as another dimension was added to her senses. Then feeling. She knew that the leather upholstery comfortably cushioned her currently paralysed and pathetic body, that the window beside her blew a fresh breeze into her face, that she was cold, and that her hair needed a good brush. Then it was smell that came to her; the damp, earthiness of rain soaked vegetation, and the pungency of a resinous cologne mixed with stale sweat, which was totally repulsive. She spluttered, tasting the strong fragrance because droplets of it had wafted into her open mouth. She wondered if she really did sleep with her mouth open, and hoped that she had not drooled everywhere.
Then there were several bizarre moments. Ella saw that she was still in the front seat of the Mercedes. That damn 'wolf was still driving. The scenery had changed; no longer the bustling freeways of Las Vegas, but a dark and threatening forest, lush green, but still impregnated with an almost tangible thrill of danger and blood. She could see, smell, taste and hear and feel. But the ability to move had not yet come to her. She supposed that this was how people felt when they woke up from anaesthetic during an operation, but they could not tell anyone that they had. Helplessly trapped inside their own puny bodies, mentally shrivelling up from the agony being unknowingly inflicted upon them. But this nightmare was no accident. Bleeding Thistles had done this to her. Ella didn't know a lot about the place, but already she was beginning to hate it. People always said 'never judge a book by its cover' but Ella never listened to them. If the shoe fits, it fits.
The 'wolf, John, eyed her with a supercilious grin. If it was possible, he looked even greasier than before. Was taking a shower beyond his capabilities? And, even more gallingly, he looked utterly remorseless in spite of his deceptions. It gave her one tiny morsel of comfort to see the ugly red gash that she had rent in his face looked sore and painful. But he was in control at the moment, and she hated it.
"Can't move yet, right? Yeah, it's all the same. Movement's always the last thing to come. But before you attack me, I'll just let you know that I'm wearing this." He displayed a strange looking, witchy type amulet that hung from a frayed cord round his neck. "Protection charms. Standard issue," he said smugly, before turning back to the road.
Ella felt like a lemon. Even when movement finally returned to her, she felt as content as a ski jacket in Barbados. Her reaction was to lash out at John, despite his corny warning. Obviously his whole smug protection thing was not garbage, because as soon as she got within a centimetre of his person, she was shoved violently away by some magical force field around him. After recovering from the powerful blow, she scowled. Glowering, she turned to face him.
"How come you weren't wearing that thing before?" She frowned. "You are a bastard," she spat as an afterthought, before an overwhelming bout of melancholy engulfed her. Suddenly she found herself close to tears. She was cut adrift, an innocent vampire about to be initiated into the darkness. And she was afraid, scared almost witless, and fighting to hide her feelings of despair and terror. It was not fair. It should not have been her. But fate had determined its victim at last, and she was going to the slaughter, ever unwilling, but unable to resist its lure.
"I forgot it. It was in the glove compartment," said John with a crooked grin. "You wanna hear about BT?" Ella did not reply as she sunk into a sulky mood. He carried on regardless. "The grounds surrounding the BT facilities are vast and expansive, made up of mostly woodland, like this, and some moor land and marshes to the east," he added. He gave her a look that was exasperated, sympathetic and amused, all at the same time. Ella sniffled quietly. Even though she knew he'd hear her, she hoped that he would ignore it. Thankfully, John rambled on.
As he spoke, Ella rummaged around in her trouser pocket; looking for the thing Mavis had given her just before she'd left. Dragging it out, she saw it was a golden topaz and sapphire pendant, set in elegant silver. She made a fist round it, remembering how Mavis had always worn the thing. The memories tore brutally at her failing spirit. She missed her foster mom acutely, almost as if it was a physical ache.
"BT is Bleeding Thistles by the way. Kind of like an affectionate nickname if you will. They built this road privately, covered it in asphalt and everything. The base is like an old mansion, both modern and ancient. Which do you prefer?"
She felt the 'wolf's expectant eyes on her, as if he waited for an answer.
"Great," she stated flatly, hoping that it was appropriate......... John was certainly an odd guy. Shy and assertive all at once, never predictable, always changing. One minute he was quiet, the next, he blurted out the most incredibly odd things. He was an enigma, she decided. One that should be watched closely.
"The base is cloaked. Warding spells. Very effective against intruders, Daybreaker spies, and extremely..." He looked across at the girl. She was gorgeous of course; even more beautiful than even the everyday Night People he encountered, with windswept brown hair, her naivety, her stubborn spirit, and her soulful, wide eyes, pools of mesmerising blue. But there was something intrinsically sad and wistful about her, about the way she was staring into space, resting her soft cheek on her slim and delicate hand, ignoring even the tiniest bits of information he was giving her. He was getting a little pissed off with the vampire. Most of that was because she had unwittingly made him feel... No, he told himself firmly. He opted for the easy road, to banish the little lamia from his thoughts. The chances were that she'd be dead before the week was out. He couldn't help but feel an odd queasiness inside him as he imagined that, no matter how much he denied it. With steely determination, John pressed the accelerator to the floor, and stared resolutely ahead.
The depression had stolen up on Ella yet again; memories of a past life flooded her battered senses. She and Alex had been so tight, closer than a brother and sister were normally. She could never pinpoint where it had all gone wrong, where he had chosen his own path and left her to carry on alone. Was it her fault? She was no angel, certainly, but Alex had never had much of a problem with it. He'd loved her, as she was, warts and all. But slowly, something had changed, and Alex had become different, almost without anyone noticing. Like how nobody notices that they are becoming taller, growing all the time, until one fine day you wake up to find that the sleeves of your favourite jumper are too short and your trousers only reach to your shins. Like that.
"Why do you do that?" asked John, startling Ella out of her doze.
"What?"
"Pity yourself. Get over it."
"What?" Ella was genuinely shocked. What the fuck was he on about? "What right have you to... Wait. How did you know..."
"We're here, princess," he interrupted with an ironic smile.
Before Ella had a chance to ask just how he'd known what she'd been thinking, the car slowed down and pulled up in a small glade. As far as Ella could see, there was nothing, except the green, green grass of home, and a couple of trees and all that rubbish. The smartly paved road just seemed to stop.
"I don't see any..." In mid-sentence, she was silenced by the most spectacular piece of magic she'd ever seen.
Where there had once been nothing, a shimmering occurred. It was as if the very fabric of time was trembling. The effect was strange and eerie. Then, the quaking got more violent and vehement, and watching it made Ella's eyes go all funny, as if they doubted this peculiar vision, that was so bold and unreal, and extremely weird. The view of woodland rippled like the surface of a lake, disturbed by a stone. Then, out of nowhere, a gigantic mansion appeared, a castle.
"Wow," said Ella. She was in shock. As she had not had many particularly close witch friends, their magic was bewildering and alien. Especially something on this large scale.
"Wow indeed," said John, mentioning nothing about how he had explained all the precautions taken at BT earlier. Ella opened the car door and stumbled out, her eyes still trained upon the base in a suspicious manner, refusing to trust it.
It was a magnificent building, in the style of an ancient gothic castle. She couldn't help but think that the looming walls, soaring turrets, ornately huge windows, yawningly wide doors and creepy gargoyles were humorously appropriate. The stonework was coloured an impassive slate grey, creeper clad in places, the red fingers twining and crawling upon the fine architecture. It was a spooky looking place, forbidding, the stuff of horror movies.
"Home sweet home, right?" she remarked acidly.
John had since got out her small suitcase from the boot of the car and joined her.
"It may look pretty grim, but inside it's much better," he said reassuringly. Ella looked him in surprise. He was certainly very unpredictable.
"Yeah," she said softly.
"Feverfew, I see you've brought one of our new arrivals to us," a male voice said behind them. "What happened to your face?"
John changed at once. He stood stiffly and formally, his head bowed, eyes never looking at the man who had just spoken.
He looked about twenty, but she sensed at once that his true age was a much larger figure. Clearly he was a vampire, but she was not sure if he was made or lamia. His icy grey eyes were pitiless, merciless and glittering with a sadistic arrogance and self- assurance that was awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. He was tall, taller than her and John anyway. His face was hard, sculpted in granite, a sneer on his lips. His blonde hair was as pale as frost. He was muscular and predatory. Ella was at once fearful, and slammed walls round her mind, shielding her thoughts from this monster.
"This is Ella Elizabeth Pinefrost, sir," said John in a clipped and respectful tone, with the barest hint of resentfulness. "I had an accident with a... penknife, sir." What a stupid excuse, she thought, wondering if the man would realise he was being lied to.
But, barely registering John's statements, the man turned his attention to Ella. "Miss Pinefrost. Welcome to Bleeding Thistles," he said. His voice was cold, brusque, and calm. "I am Aldred. That is all you need to know for now."
"That will be all, Feverfew," said Aldred to John, acknowledging him with a careless nod. Ella was shocked at his strange treatment of John, but said nothing. She wondered also why John had lied about the scratch she'd inflicted upon him.
"Miss Pinefrost, this way," Aldred said. He had already begun approaching the BT base, walking at a quick pace. He wore a long leather jacket, brown trousers and a grey t-shirt. Ella hurried to keep up with his long stride, clutching her case. She wondered for the millionth time why vampires always loved black leather. Aldred didn't look the sort of guy to have a kinky fetish. But it was always the quiet ones... Giggling mentally at the absurd thought, she followed Aldred up the steep stone steps and along the paved terrace to the grand oak door that was the gigantic entrance to the base.
Here goes, she thought, the dread and apprehension rising in her stomach, nausea and nervousness adding to her fear. Aldred stopped at the door and knocked three times. The hollow noise echoed spookily. After several minutes, the gloomy portal was opened with a painful-sounding creak, and Aldred ushered her in, to the shadows within.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Excruciatingly long chapter! Don't forget to review, my dear old chums! Thanks!