Arezue: Desire

"You do know I'll always love you, right?" The simple yet powerful words echoed in the hollowed air around her as tears streamed down her face. She didn't dare wipe them away; doing such a thing would mean admitting that he could still cause her pain. It would mean admitting that after all this time Angelus hadn't lost his touch.

Sweet Torture. That's what it was. People said that Angelus had managed to achieve perfection through torture. That wasn't really true. He'd taken torture to new heights. After all, she – of all people – ought to know. Angelus. Angel. He knew just how to get under your skin. Just how to make you want to admit that you needed him.

And she wanted to. Even though she was 224 years old, there was still the little girl trapped inside, the fledgling, that wanted to believe that her father, her sire, would make everything all right. Fix it all up.

"But he won't." She whispered softly. "He'll just sweep in, treat me like crap for a while, make me beg him to stay and then…leeaveee…" She trailed off in a hiss of pain as some of the wax from the flickering blood red candle clenched in her fingers found its way on to her bare thigh. She glanced over at…Jason? Or maybe it was Jack?

Whatever his name was probably wouldn't even remember her in the morning. Or he might. It didn't really matter, she'd already forgotten about the events that had transpired a few hours ago in the room she sat hunched up in, phone and burning candle clenched in hand, pain in her ice-blue orbs. The only reason she had to support her hope that he wouldn't remember was the inquiry that would undoubtedly take place after she was gone. He'd probably wake with a massive hangover and be unable to place her or the past few hours of his human life.

Not that she cared. She never had. She pondered the thought of actually caring as she glanced around the room. She'd made as big as a mess as possible during her phone call. She wanted to make sure that nobody'd be able to find a shred of evidence that she'd been here. Although…her scent was plastered all over the room. She smirked to herself at this. It would probably drive them nuts, being able to smell her but not find her.

And she knew they'd come searching for her; they had been trailing her for the last two months or so. But she wasn't going to give in to them. She refused to let them, him, win without a fight. She just couldn't.

Getting up, she pulled her black and red leather dress back on. It would probably get her a few looks wherever she went, but that was all right, she liked the attention. Negative attention was always better then no attention at all. She glanced around for her underclothes but quickly gathered that blondie had snatched them earlier. She shrugged.

"He might as well get something for his trouble." She grabbed her black Gucci purse, slipping the wax candle in just as somebody started bagging on the door.

"Open up!" A growl. "Open up, we know you're in there." She smirked at the itching familiarity of the words. World War II. Germany…they had had so much fun…the words just pulled her back to the time and all else that she could not have.

Spotting the window ledge (about seven feet high in the air, this brothel sure sucked), she took in a gust of unneeded oxygen and catapulted herself towards it.

"We will get you - and you will be punished for making our master wait!" The thuds on the door became even more instantaneous and Arezue began to climb out. She deftly toyed with the idea of sticking around to drive them even more batty (no pun intended) when she ran off.

Just as she stepped out on the ledge, about 40 meters high in the air, the door came down with a thud. She seized the dome on the building and tried to keep from making noise. If she tilted her head a little to the right she could see inside…

An entire horde of vampires, demons, and the ever so spontaneous goblin, tumbled into the room. The head vampire, she was pretty sure his name was Grommbulk (she'd seen him serving her lover, ex-lover, at times in court), looked around and let out a massive growl, face shifting into demonic mode, fangs flashing in the darkness, nose trying to sniff her out.

"She has evaded us again!" She smirked at this. "Oh, what's this?" He'd obviously spotted the blonde on the bed. Ever since Spike had gone blonde, she'd only dated blondes…why was that?

Pondering the question, she glanced back in the room. Grommbulk was hauling Jared (yeah, that must be his name) up by the ear. Jared was still, weirdly enough, out of it.

"Torture!" One of the gremlins crowed out, clearly enthused by the idea. The rest of the horde seemed to agree and the head vampire smiled.

"Yessss, torture." He drawled, his Transylvanian accent seeping through. "Then he'll spill every drop he has," He paused. "Get it, spill – drop?" None of the other demons seemed to find his pun very funny. He rolled his eyes and tossed the blonde to a purple demon with very large claws. "Start already!"

Grommbulk started to ransack the mess of a room, trying to find some clue as to where she was. Arezue spun around to face the city and realized she was still forty feet up in the air.

"Oh crap." She stated, awed at all the lights. It was like New York City during Christmastime or at least a New York City Christmas back in 1922. She smile down at the streets below, wondered whether some guy would sweep in and catch her like in the movies and then - she jumped.