He slept peacefullly, but his dreams were chilling and confusing. There was
a lady with golden hair and a beautiful voice; but she was being supressed,
and binded. Then a creature bathed in sunlight, thrashing around in a cage,
a pair of eyes watching it from the shadows. Then there was a man walking
in an alley; who was pushed into a wall by a woman vampire. They seemed
relieved to see eachother alive. The most disturbing part of the dream, was
that they all seemed familiar, but far out of memory.
When he opened his eyes, she was right there beside him, where she belonged; not without him, like she was earlier. She saw him awake, and threw him a silver bottle.
"Breakfast, drink up."
After he finished, he asked: "What time is it?"
"Sunset," she tossed him a gun. "Remember our lesson?"
"Yes."
"We're going hunting."
He yawned. "Can I wake up first?"
She looked at him. Then, she sprung up, and landed next to him. Her face looked vicious and dangerous. He didn't move. Had she snapped again?
She smiled deviously. "You awake yet?" He let out his breath. "I thought that would work. Let's go."
Drea and Michel went out the same way they came in. Drea led the way to her car, and Michel slid into the passenger seat. He was still groggy, but, he thought, Drea seemed different: alert, alive, focused. She was still a mystery to him; the whole world was now. He wasn't even sure if he knew himself anymore.
"You will in time," Drea broke the silence.
"I will what?" aswered Michel, confused.
"In time you'll get to know yourself again."
"How did you know I was thinking that?"
She paused. She honestly didn't know. "I don't know. Some have the power to read minds. I never have, until recently, and just with you. I don't how to control it yet, and just now did I really realize it. The dark gift is different with everyone. With most of us, encreased speed, strength, and perception are standard. Also, hightened senses, quick reflexes, we can obtain knowledge faster, and of course never get sick and live forever." "What are some special gifts?" asked Michel.
"Commonly telepathy, telecanises, and some even have the power to astral project. Some are electro magnetic. Others can defy gravity, litterally fly."
"What's your special gift?"
She looked at him curiously, then took his hand in hers. Her hand was cold, as with all vampires. The cold shadow followed them everywhere.
Drea noticed his skin was a tad warmer than most vampires' skin, but none the less cold. Michel looked at her questioningly. She cluched his hand rather tightly, and he began to feel colder, while her hand got warmer. She seemed to absorb the heat, and grasped onto it. Her hand began to admit a slight glow, and to Michel's astonishment, tongues of fire appeared around his fingers.
"Woah," he wispered.
The flames went out and her hand turned white again. "I can ubsorb heat, and start fires if there's enough," Drea paused. "I'm surprised you had enough heat for me to start a fire. We generally are cold creatures. But since you're all but two days turned, you might have some heat left." She took note of that. "With a Lycan, I get enough heat to kill them. But if I get too much, I'll burn myself alive. It's a rare gift, and very powerful; but it's dangerous."
"I thought we couldn't stand heat?"
"I received my power from my bloodline. The great ancestors, most gods, could stand the sun, and had the power to create and minuplate fire. Although I'm still always cold and can't stand the sun, I still have the fire power."
"So you would die if you stepped into the sun?"
"Yes."
"How about a stake throught the heart?"
"That's a stupid legend. We can only die in the sun, we can drown, and there are ways we can die in battle. We still have an attatchment to our bodies."
"Can a Lycan stand the sun?"
"Yes, they can. Silver's their weakness. That's why we use silver bullets."
Michel looked out of the car window at the tall buildings rustiling past them. They seemed to be alive and were trying to keep up. He began to realize he saw things completely different with his vampire eyes. Some things seemed alive, other things he noticed when no one else would have noticed them. Then again, he thought, he had always had really good eyesight. Better then most people he knew. He looked out the window again. The trees were waving.
"Where are we going?" asked Michel.
"The north side of New York. I always start there."
Michel pictured Drea hunting; following a scent, and running quickly through the night. "How do we start? Do you just know where they are?" He asked.
"Instinct does play a major part, but tracking skills come in handy. You don't have any yet. That will change."
"What kind of 'tracking skills' are you talking about?"
"Common sense mainly. A lot of follow your gut, not your ears. Smell is also important, especially in locating a scent to follow. Right now, the important thing for you is to stick close to me and try not to make a sound."
The car stopped smoothly on a road in the Bronx. There were mainly cars and shadowy-looking people. They didn't look at Drea or Michel, who were both in black: suitable enough for the people not to suspect them as anything more than themselves.
Michel was now armed with a lady colt mm, 4 mags, and 3 throwing stars. When Drea told him he was going to be using throwing stars, he pictured shinny props used in old western movies. She scoffed and showed him the real thing. They were, at first glance, innoscent looking silver disks lined with gold, but when she threw one in the air, curved spikes popped out. The disk flew into a box, which shattered from the force of the throw.
When he opened his eyes, she was right there beside him, where she belonged; not without him, like she was earlier. She saw him awake, and threw him a silver bottle.
"Breakfast, drink up."
After he finished, he asked: "What time is it?"
"Sunset," she tossed him a gun. "Remember our lesson?"
"Yes."
"We're going hunting."
He yawned. "Can I wake up first?"
She looked at him. Then, she sprung up, and landed next to him. Her face looked vicious and dangerous. He didn't move. Had she snapped again?
She smiled deviously. "You awake yet?" He let out his breath. "I thought that would work. Let's go."
Drea and Michel went out the same way they came in. Drea led the way to her car, and Michel slid into the passenger seat. He was still groggy, but, he thought, Drea seemed different: alert, alive, focused. She was still a mystery to him; the whole world was now. He wasn't even sure if he knew himself anymore.
"You will in time," Drea broke the silence.
"I will what?" aswered Michel, confused.
"In time you'll get to know yourself again."
"How did you know I was thinking that?"
She paused. She honestly didn't know. "I don't know. Some have the power to read minds. I never have, until recently, and just with you. I don't how to control it yet, and just now did I really realize it. The dark gift is different with everyone. With most of us, encreased speed, strength, and perception are standard. Also, hightened senses, quick reflexes, we can obtain knowledge faster, and of course never get sick and live forever." "What are some special gifts?" asked Michel.
"Commonly telepathy, telecanises, and some even have the power to astral project. Some are electro magnetic. Others can defy gravity, litterally fly."
"What's your special gift?"
She looked at him curiously, then took his hand in hers. Her hand was cold, as with all vampires. The cold shadow followed them everywhere.
Drea noticed his skin was a tad warmer than most vampires' skin, but none the less cold. Michel looked at her questioningly. She cluched his hand rather tightly, and he began to feel colder, while her hand got warmer. She seemed to absorb the heat, and grasped onto it. Her hand began to admit a slight glow, and to Michel's astonishment, tongues of fire appeared around his fingers.
"Woah," he wispered.
The flames went out and her hand turned white again. "I can ubsorb heat, and start fires if there's enough," Drea paused. "I'm surprised you had enough heat for me to start a fire. We generally are cold creatures. But since you're all but two days turned, you might have some heat left." She took note of that. "With a Lycan, I get enough heat to kill them. But if I get too much, I'll burn myself alive. It's a rare gift, and very powerful; but it's dangerous."
"I thought we couldn't stand heat?"
"I received my power from my bloodline. The great ancestors, most gods, could stand the sun, and had the power to create and minuplate fire. Although I'm still always cold and can't stand the sun, I still have the fire power."
"So you would die if you stepped into the sun?"
"Yes."
"How about a stake throught the heart?"
"That's a stupid legend. We can only die in the sun, we can drown, and there are ways we can die in battle. We still have an attatchment to our bodies."
"Can a Lycan stand the sun?"
"Yes, they can. Silver's their weakness. That's why we use silver bullets."
Michel looked out of the car window at the tall buildings rustiling past them. They seemed to be alive and were trying to keep up. He began to realize he saw things completely different with his vampire eyes. Some things seemed alive, other things he noticed when no one else would have noticed them. Then again, he thought, he had always had really good eyesight. Better then most people he knew. He looked out the window again. The trees were waving.
"Where are we going?" asked Michel.
"The north side of New York. I always start there."
Michel pictured Drea hunting; following a scent, and running quickly through the night. "How do we start? Do you just know where they are?" He asked.
"Instinct does play a major part, but tracking skills come in handy. You don't have any yet. That will change."
"What kind of 'tracking skills' are you talking about?"
"Common sense mainly. A lot of follow your gut, not your ears. Smell is also important, especially in locating a scent to follow. Right now, the important thing for you is to stick close to me and try not to make a sound."
The car stopped smoothly on a road in the Bronx. There were mainly cars and shadowy-looking people. They didn't look at Drea or Michel, who were both in black: suitable enough for the people not to suspect them as anything more than themselves.
Michel was now armed with a lady colt mm, 4 mags, and 3 throwing stars. When Drea told him he was going to be using throwing stars, he pictured shinny props used in old western movies. She scoffed and showed him the real thing. They were, at first glance, innoscent looking silver disks lined with gold, but when she threw one in the air, curved spikes popped out. The disk flew into a box, which shattered from the force of the throw.