Chapter XVI: Blindfold in the Bath
District VI, Mariahilf, Vienna
A quarter of an hour later, the carriage stopped.
The bloodseer craned her neck, eager to know where they were. She could hear dogs barking on the other side of the street, a bawdy woman singing Ave Maria from the top of her lungs. Words without a tune, and a shifting memory of a prayer with little weight. Across from her, she heard the rustle of Allegra uncrossing her legs, a hand now taking her arm, directing her to stand. The fingers were soft on her skin, keeping her from hitting the ceiling as they left the carriage. Wet stones that froze the bottom of her feet. Neither Lucian, Raze, nor Kolya accompanied them.
Forward they went, twenty steps to a door which swung open with a creak. Allegra's hand led her inside, disappearing only to shut the door behind them. They turned left and then right. Two sets of stairs, one way and then the other, twenty-eight steps altogether. Again they went forward, Allegra gripping her wrist close in the dark, leading her carefully, never once allowing her to stumble or graze herself. She lost count of the turns, like playing a game of Blind Man's Trick.
Their steps began to slow, Allegra's boots making hollow, clapping sounds on the wooden floors. The air was getting warmer. She was afraid now, holding tight to the hand that led her. She should run. Tear off the blind-fold and run…but she could not bring herself to let go. Do not leave me, she thought, pleading in her head. She was too weak to be left behind. As if sensing her fears, but more likely feeling the tightness of her grip, Allegra began to speak to her, soft and reassuring. Persuading her to imagine the conversation they were having so that soon, she relaxed her grip.
She believed in the measure of Allegra's voice…the sweetness in her laughter. They were talking of…of herbs. Plants. The sweetness that could be found in ice-blood, sucked from a rabbit after it had frozen in the snow. When they stopped…when Allegra put her hands to her sides and told her to…to wait…she did as she was told. Allegra was a good person. A warm one. She waited, her ears following the rustling of the lady's dress. Ears following the sound of…
Footsteps…softer than the boots of Allegra.
Someone was coming…
Behind her.
She did not think to take the blindfold off…only to keep the person back. She cried out, turning this way and that, her arms outstretched, backing away into nothing. Stay back, she pleaded. Stay away from me. Again, she heard Allegra's voice, still speaking German to her.
Sabine, she heard her say quietly, but firmly.
Darf ich Ihnen meine Freundin Sabine vorstellen?
Soothing, she felt Allegra's arm around her back, drawing her forward to meet someone. Sabine. Like a river, the babble of the little girl, Sabine, flowed into the room. Ich freue mich, Sie kennenzulernen, Frau Tattergreisin, the girl said, shaking her hand politely. Now it was Sabine's turn to lead, the small fingers drawing her to the sound of water pouring into a basin. Helping her out of her clothes, the shirt over her head, the dusty breeches to the floor. It was Sabine who held her hand, Allegra holding her waist so she would not slip.
Such a shock entering the water.
Hot water…the smell of rose petals and citrus. She could not remember the last time she had bathed. She did not want to see her body…only to feel water on her skin. Forget that she was herself. Forget that she was a prisoner. Forget that it was not her friend, her sister, her mother scrubbing her back, squeezing water on her neck. They were not so different, Sabine and Allegra. They prattled away in their tongue, laughing between them, Allegra's hand dipping into the water to splash, Sabine shrieking with a peal of laughter for a moment, a hand shushing over her mouth. The pair of them giggling like schoolgirls. They were so happy. In the midst of war, they were happy. She listened, envying them…
…and then fell asleep.
o…o…o
When she woke, the water was still warm, but the room was silent. They were gone. She pulled the blindfold off, letting it fall into the bath, watching the ripples as it sunk to the bottom. Beneath her, she saw the first glimpse of copper, her pale legs strung with age, her body clean, but ancient. She could not stand. Not yet. Looking around, she saw the room's warmth came from a small fire in a grated stove. A pair of candles on the floor, smelling of beeswax and tallow. Not enough light to blind her. Above her, there were slats of wood, the attic of what must be a workman's house. A single window directly across from the slats, circular with an iron cross in the centre. Through its glass, rather than sky, she could see the stones of another structure. No escape there… She used the sides of the bath to pull herself up, trying to find a new route. The building must be enormous, wooden boxes along the edges, the walls stretching out farther than she could see. On either side stood an army of dressmaker's dolls, fully dressed while her clothing was gone, swept away. She could not have slept that long.
Had they left her?
No… Dimly, she could hear pacing outside the room. Steps echoing off the same wooden floor she had walked on earlier. Her eyes sought the source. It was a wooden door on her right, badly damaged, covered with a pattern of scratch marks across its surface. Five-tiered scratch marks…they left no doubt over what brand of creature typically lurked in this room. She sat up further, her ears inclined towards the right wall. They were coming closer…
Deep voices…
Raze speaking sombrely, weighing every word before he spoke. Lucian remarking his displeasure, his volume never rising above an understated murmur. Allegra pacing back and forth across the room, arguing with the two of them. At times, she would laugh…a bell-like sound that made one want to…
"You should not have removed your blindfold…"
She gasped, turning her head to the left, water sloshing out of the tub, causing the candles to sputter. She was not alone. In the shadows…but who had spoken? She squinted, wishing her eyes could see as sharply as they once did. She scanned the room…and realised soon enough that she was looking too low. There. A young girl, red-haired and dressed in sombre grey, black stockings and buttoned shoes, sat on one of the higher crates to her left. She was hiding behind one of the dressmaker dolls.
Sabine.
Allegra's sweetmeat.
They stared impassively at each other, the one wrinkled with age, the other a child. Blindfolded, she had expected the girl to be a golden-haired, ringlet-sprouting angel. But she was thin, oily…her face was smudged, the entirety of one ear missing, the remnants of the same wound marring her cheek. Red scratches along her arms and legs. The only neat part of this child was her clothing…and she suspected that was Allegra's choice, not the girl's. She could not be more than nine.
"Do you always do what your caretakers tell you?" she said bluntly to Sabine. She would not be ordered by a child that was barely the age of her shortest hair.
"Yes," the girl replied. Her Russian was very infantile, but she made up for it with forwardness."If you do not, vampires will come and eat you in the night."
"Are you afraid I will eat you?"
"Of course…" She stepped out from behind the dressmaker doll. "…but you must be afraid too. If you eat me, Lyosha will cut open your stomach and save me." She said this without hesitation. "It says so in my chapbook."
Lycan chapbook…who ever heard of such a thing? The only story the girl could be speaking of was either Red Hood or the Seven Goats…and neither ended with a vampire falling prey to a wolf's knife. Frowning, she allowed herself to sink into the water again, inclining her head so she could still see the child over the rim. She had never been good with children.
"The wolf dies in that story, little girl," she said.
Sabine shook her head. "He stays alive." She stepped from the crate, landing so lightly, like the floor had echoed for a feather. Approaching the copper tub, she kneeled and balanced her arms on the edge. "Why are you so old," she asked. "…Lyosha says old vampires are made of dust. Is it true?"
Blood.
She had no energy for this…
Sternly, she eyed the girl, and then looked away, settling upon the hope that if she ignored something, it would eventually go away. Children often did not realise the insolence in staring…but Sabine, she believed, knew exactly what she was doing. Her eyes were unnatural. Pale grey and unnervingly still. Saving her the trouble of having to converse further, Allegra swept through the door, shutting it behind her. She carried a lush towel, almost trailing it on the ground, a mound of clothing over one arm…scarves, stockings, a pleated dress, and what appeared to be a skirt and blouse. A bone-corset peeking from beneath the skirt…
"That was a very rude thing to ask, Sabine," the lycan lady chastised in Russian, tossing the clothes to Sabine and strutting over to the bathtub, unfolding the towel. When the blood-seer did not stand, she clucked her tongue melodically. "Come Reinette, we are all women here…" She raised the towel up higher, shielding her charge from the closed door. "…you need not worry. They will not enter."
They?
Between the two of them, Lucian and Raze had seen more of her body than she had since aging. But they were not the problem. The problem was standing up naked in front of Aphrodite and her rat maiden. Reluctantly, she stood, stepping from the tub and allowing herself to be enfolded in the warm material. There was water dripping from her shoulders, goosebumps spreading across her back. She felt like a child again. It did not make sense for them to treat her this way. She was their prisoner. From behind, she felt Allegra briskly rubbing the towel over her head and shoulders, drying her quickly and thoroughly, leaving the towel over her head like a veil to keep her warm.
She had to know…
"Why are you kind to me," she asked, peering dully at Allegra from beneath the towel. The lycan was stroking her shoulder now, the gesture almost maternal, thoughtless in its direction. She did not draw away as the hand moved up to her cheek, and then over her head, the fingers soothing as they stroked the faint down growing from her scalp. Part of her hated the sensation. Filthy lycan hands on her head. She was being tamed…broken…but it felt so good to be touched. She closed her eyes, letting the woman work the knots out of her back.
"I am only kind because someone was once kind to me," she heard Allegra say. "We return the favours we are dealt."
Favours, she thought, opening her eyes.
"If I returned all the favours bestowed on me, I think I would become a cruel person," she said. The fire crackled in the grate. Her eyes moved towards it and then back to Allegra's face. "I will not be here very long," she added impulsively.
Allegra nodded, rueful in her smile. "So they all say," she said…and without warning, she snapped her fingers. Behind her, Sabine came forward, eyes trained attentively on her mistress, her arms holding out the bundle of clothes for inspection. From the bundle, Allegra selected a blue-black skirt…the colour of whale-skin. "Up," she said, holding the skirt out. At least she had not snapped her fingers. Staring, the bloodseer reflected upon her choices…and then obeyed, standing up and letting the towel fall from her head.
o…o…o
When she was fully dressed, Allegra brought her a mirror. The glass was dusty, but she could at least see the vast improvement. She looked like a woman in half-mourning. The skirt was plain, but well-tailored. Perhaps a measure too long, but Allegra had found time to pin up the hem. A corset had been firmly laced up her back, though it made little difference considering the size of her waist. Her shirt was grey, firmly starched and buttoned up to her neck. Over everything, she wore a winter coat made of black wool, stockings, leather gloves, heeled boots, and a mourning hat to cover her head. Beneath the hat, she had hair again…human hair by the texture, most of it hidden by a veil. A small ivory brooch completed the outfit.
Most surprising of all was the unseen golden chain hanging from her neck. She had believed Lucian was lying when he said he would give her a time-piece…but Allegra had fastened it around her neck, saying only that it was a gift for her days ahead. A gift from Aleksey Itzhak. Uncertainly, she drew the small pendant-watch out, unwilling to open it for fear it would break. On the one side, it bore the enamelled image of an osprey in flight…on the other, the far-off glow of a lighthouse. The workmanship was elegant, hand-painted before its makers had fired it in a kiln. It was beautiful.
She avoided looking at her face and focused on the space behind her instead. On the floor sat a leather bag holding two dresses, four shirts, three skirts, and an extra pair of stockings. She even had undergarments: drawers, a nightgown, a linen chemise, and two petticoats for the sake of warmth. While Allegra had packed her bag, the candles had burned a quarter of an inch lower. She could no longer hear the men in the other room, but she could imagine their impatience at having to wait on account of a prisoner.
"Thank you," she said readily.
"You are most welcome," answered Allegra. She was not surprised when the woman's hand reached out, tucking the end of the scarf into her coat. She was treating her like a newborn. "…but it is Lyosha you should be thanking."
"He wishes me dead." Impulsive words. Even to her own ears, she sounded like a child railing against fate. But she did not want to go with him and for that, he was the enemy.
"Do not judge him by his words, Reinette. He is a difficult creature…" The lady paused, now adjusting the broach. She finally settled upon re-pinning it half an inch above its original position. "And if he has chosen to gamble in your favour, then you should be grateful."
"I am not grateful," she said clearly, allowing Allegra to turn her around one final time. "I am afraid." Strange that she would admit her fears in front of a lycan, but the woman had tamed her the moment she laced her corset. She was certain it would be the first and last gesture of kindness she would encounter for many years.
Allegra touched her chin, and then gripped her by the shoulders. "We are at war, Reinette. You may be his prisoner, but do not let it eat at your courage. Many would kill for the treatment you are receiving, least of all his fancy women."
"His fancy what?"
"Women, dear. They sit on his knee and the like." Having easily segued from the topic of war, Allegra released her shoulders and snapped her fingers again for Sabine to come. The girl had likely wandered off into the shadows again, playing a game of dresses with the rest of the warehouse stock. She began to stalk among the boxes, searching for her charge. "I tell you, if there is one thing you should know of Aleksey Itzhak, it is that he is not a sensitive man. Logic, politics, strategy…he is marvellous, but when it comes to the common woman…" She shook her head. "…no consideration. None whatsoever. Think of his poor mistresses; they actually have to live with him for a spell."
The bloodseer blinked. Fancy women…mistresses.
Allegra had not even paused on the plural.
"Well, they can have the treatment," she replied coolly, daring to cling to her perception of lycan imprisonment. "He vowed to bury me underground. He will leave me in the dark, drinking rat's blood while a murderer like…like Kolya is given leave to start a new life." Just thinking on it brought the taste of rat to her tongue again. She managed a final grumble, her protests winding down. "How long before he forgets his promise? Before he forgets that I am even down there…"
"My dear, it is better to be in the dark than dead." Having located Sabine under a pile of old hoop-skirts, Allegra drew the girl up into her arms and reached out one more time to grip the bloodseer's hand. She held it tight as they stepped towards the door. "Keep to the shadows and survive the war," she said proudly. "It is the lycan way."
o…o…o
The door opened onto a poor man's sitting room. Two chairs were drawn up to an ill-balanced, wooden table with a mass of playing cards scattered across its surface. It was unclear what the rules of the game were. Neither Lucian nor Raze looked up from their hands, but the one removed an Eight of Diamonds and flipped it onto the table, face side up, while the other reorganised his cards. Without knowing their time of arrival, she could not tell how long she had kept them waiting…but in any case, she was not the one to bear the reprimand.
"Allegra," Lucian threw down a card. The Knave of Clubs. He picked another from the table. "…are you quite finished discussing my love affairs behind closed doors?"
"Yes, Lyosha." Cool as a breeze, Allegra put Sabine down by the door and sidled past him, moving to stand beside Raze. Her arms snaked around his massive shoulders, kissing his neck once before she pointed a finger at one of the overturned cards on the table. Raze did not smile, but he picked the card up, touching her hand with affection. How kind of them all to speak Russian in her presence.
"And the bath was hot?" Lucian discarded another card. The Ace of Diamonds. "You know I would be disgraced if we mistreated one of our own with cold bathwater."
"Of course, Lyosha."
"Is her clothing sufficient…the material soft, the coat warm enough?"
"As you can see, Lyosha." Allegra's voice was like syrup.
"Is she hungry? Should I woo her over supper? Blood-caviar…a fine wine?"
Hidden by her veil, the blood-seer kept her cool, expressionless as he mocked her appearance. Sarcasm…always sarcasm. It was like Allegra had said…no consideration for women. From behind, she heard Sabine giggle suddenly, the sound making her look down, causing Lucian to look up, his grey eyes searching the little girl out. "Sabine…" He growled over his cards. "…you seem taller since you entered the room. How old are you now? Sixty? A hundred? How many years have passed?"
Behind her, Sabine spoke. "I am nine, Lyosha."
"Eighty-seven, you say…"
"No," Sabine giggled again, hiding her face with her hand and shaking her head gleefully. "I am nine."
"I swear you are eighty-seven. It makes you old enough to answer my question." He flung another card on the table. The Two of Spades. "Do you think we can leave this Viennese fleapit or is your mistress still concerned over my prisoner's hemline?"
The blood-seer could not soften her jaw, but she waited to see what their mutual advocate would do. Lucian was acting a right bastard. Clearly unembarrassed by the insults floating about the room, Sabine peered questioningly at Allegra. Straight-faced, Allegra merely drew a card out of Raze's hand and tossed it on the table before nodding her head. Sabine looked at the card…and then smiled, showing a missing tooth. The rest were sharp.
"Lyosha, we are ready," she said.
"Excellent." He was about to stand, but as he shifted forward, his gaze happened first upon the card Allegra had picked. The Queen of Clubs. He stilled…grimaced…and then flung the rest of his cards onto the table as well. "You have yoked yourself a demon, Raze." Removing a leather wallet from his breast-pocket, he pulled out a folded stack of crisp bank-notes and tossed it to the other lycan. "A minute inside the room, and she knows where the cards lie before I have thrown them down."
Allegra only smiled, holding onto Raze.
It would seem the game was won.
o…o…o
A minute later, the pair left to say their goodbyes in a separate room. For the present, Allegra had ties that must keep her in Vienna. Not entirely a monster, Lucian collected his cards and proceeded to start a game of patience, herself seated across from him, Sabine having chosen to sit on her lap rather than his. Sabine was to accompany them on their journey. She felt uncomfortable with the set-up, but no one but Allegra would have cared if she gave her opinion. The girl had no understanding of personal space. To make matters worse, it made her lose sight of the fact that she held an animal in her arms…not a girl at all.
Sure enough, the red hair began to droop, so that she found herself cradling a lycan as if they were mother and child. She did not appreciate the embrace, but there was nothing she could say or do about it. Lucian was otherwise occupied with his game. Something she began to watch…and then understand until she forgot herself completely.
"Clubs," she said impatiently.
Lucian looked up in question, an eyebrow raised. "What?"
She pointed. "Under that diamond, you can move the four of clubs over. It will win you the game quicker."
His eyes looked to where she was pointing. He did not seem to enjoy her impromptu participation in his solitary game. "The game is called patience for a reason," he said grimly. "…but thank you all the same."
When Raze and Allegra finally emerged, while they shared a final kiss at the door, she had trouble waking the child. Watching her difficulty over his cards, Lucian unexpectedly got up and reached across the table, gently nudging the sleeping girl awake in her arms. For some reason, she responded to him. Sabine looked up, rubbed her eyes and then meandered off her lap, leaving red hairs behind on her skirt.
To her surprise, she watched as Lucian's eyes followed the girl's path, and for a moment, she saw in them the same warmth as on the first night of their meeting. Genuine warmth. Sabine…this raggedy, unsettling girl…was dear to Lucian. Why? A final glimpse of Allegra kissing the girl on the forehead, and then once more they set out in the dark. Before they left, he handed her the same blindfold he had retrieved from the bath. He would not tell her where they were going, but when the carriage finally stopped…
…she heard the sound of a train.
The scent of smoke in the air as she stepped down from the carriage. Cobblestones beneath her feet. Lucian, herself, Sabine…and a new voice. Someone speaking German. The sound of Raze climbing down from the carriage, while another took his place.
If she could say nothing for their uncouthness…Allegra excepted, it was becoming rapidly apparent that these lycans were efficient in their business. It mystified her how they managed to communicate so swiftly. How did the one always know when to meet the other? What connected them?
Before she could make sense of it all, the carriage moved swiftly off to the right, gone in the space of a heartbeat. She swallowed, feeling caught out in the open. Where could they be standing that people did not see them? She could feel her heart start to race, panic gripping her throat…making her breathe too fast. Unexpected, she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around. Removing her blindfold and leaving her veil in disarray.
Lucian.
She blinked, staring at him for a moment…and then looked around. They were standing in the shadow of a train station, the empty warehouse behind holding the box-cars. The entire floor was empty.
Empty save for two wooden boxes, their lids on the ground, each measuring about four by four feet. On the ground lay four bottles of blood, each sealed with wax, a box of nails and a hammer.
Her heart sank. There was likely a good reason why the interior of each box was lined with sackcloth. To make matter worse, across the room, she saw Kolya already stretching, preparing for what was to come. They must have brought him in a different carriage…and though he was incredibly tall, he seemed rather keen to demonstrate how easy it was for him to fit into such a small space. But she was not Kolya.
She breathed…and then turned to Lucian. "Lyosha," she said. "…I am not getting in that box."
"Reinette, I may be able to wrestle you onto a fishing vessel, but unfortunately, the Orient Express is a touch more grand than that." He took her by the hand, leading her towards the box. "We have two thousand kilometres to travel and half of that stretch will be under the sun. One, you do not have a ticket, and two, I do not trust the drapes in our sleeping-car. We are going to Paris and if you intend to follow me…" He paused. "…and you will follow me, Reinette…" He picked up one of the hammers. "…then I am afraid you will be travelling under reduced circumstances."
"Can you not…" She peered into the box. "…make it bigger?" It was a hopeless question, but there had to be another box. Kolya was already climbing into his. She looked about, scanning for something else to climb into.
"Reinette."
"What if we…"
"Get in."
Behind the veil, she made a face…and then shut her mouth, swallowing a hiss. "Oh, very well," she ground out, violently wrapping her skirt closer, raising it as much as she dared so she could climb into the box. She leaned back first with her knees bent and then allowed herself to cross her legs. There was just enough space for that…but how uncomfortable. The sackcloth was itchy wherever it touched open skin. She looked up. "…mark my words, Lyosha, I will be gone by the time we arrive in Paris. I'll throw myself off the train."
He shrugged. "If you throw yourself off the train, woman, I will still be there to pick up the pieces." The lid came down with a thump…darkness, the walls coming closer. She swallowed, feeling the thickness of the air, feeling the trap…she could not breathe in here. How would she spend the next twenty-four hours this way?
Suddenly, the lid lifted up again. "Here." Theophrastus came thumping down onto her lap. Reading. He expected her to read? Did he not have another book?
"Bastard," she muttered.
"Does that surprise you?" He held the lid up for a second longer, leaning in with a lowered voice. "Look…how else did you think we'd get to Paris? I once had to spend two weeks in a space between walls. That's for someone that actually digests something more than blood. Think on that before you whine about being in a safe-box for a day."
"I am not whining."
"You are whining."
"Braggart."
"Infant."
He dropped the lid with a bang. This time, it did not come up again, and she had to listen…panic…as the nails came down, the hammer shutting her up in pitch-black for what would be the next twenty-four hours. Grunts as she heard the sound of…others…there were other lycans out there, many hands making light work. They must have come out of the woodworks. She felt the box lift up into the air, swaying as if held by a pulley. If they dropped her, so help her, she would take someone's eyes out when he came to pick up the pieces. A powerful thump…and then stillness. She was on the train. Only God knew when their departure time was.
She sniffed…and then stuck her tongue out. Bastard, she thought defiantly, curling up to wait. It was humiliating the way he carted her around like used goods. 'Two weeks in a space between walls.' Had he forgotten the past twenty years she spent in a catacomb? She was a hunted creature…an old vampire…a…a… Sniffing, she realised there were tears on her face. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting again, her arms wrapped around her knees. This was worse than the catacombs. At least there she had not been conscious. It was too silent…unnervingly silent. The sackcloth seemed to dampen all noise now that they were in the baggage compartment. No sound. She listened…and then pulled the pendant-watch out from her shirt, holding it up to her ear. Ticking. She sniffed again…and then curled up again, counting the seconds until she fell asleep.
She would be calm. She would make this trip…and she would come out on the other side. It would be wonderful. Beautiful. It would be Paris, city of… She scrunched up her face, striving to remember the rest of that sentence. City of…
…of nothing.
For all she knew, Paris could be another fleapit. City of lice. City of lycans. City of… It came to her moments before she lost consciousness. Exhausted, her head dropped to the wooden flooring, the watch clasped between her fingers. …love. Of course. Paris was the city of love. How could she forget? It was another blank slate where her memories had been…but she remembered now. She smiled faintly.
She was going to the city of love.
'Love.'
Ha. She sighed. If only the wheels of the train could accidentally love Lucian on their way out of the station. He would make such a lovely smear on the tracks.
A/N: Thank you to OriginalBubble, Sheen, Jen Rock, and aureliasilver for the latest reviews! As you can tell, we have another new and naughty character, Sabine. Hope her undisguised rudeness does not cause too many people to wince.
OriginalBubble: Originally, I was keeping mum on whether Reinette regains her youth and ends up with Lucian, but today I figured there were enough people worrying about Reinette's age that I could spill some beans below. (I'm trying to address a number of concerns from this chapter's reviews, so some of the notes are from other people's posts.) Anyway, as to the rest, I'm pleased that you like the idea of the characters developing separately. I see this as a 'stage' in both their lives…he's a bit…mean. While she's a bit…broken. Can two negatives make a plus? We'll see over the rest of the story.
Sheen: You are awesome for reading and reviewing as much as you do (you're definitely one of the reasons I still write) and I'm glad you liked Allegra as much as I did.
Jen Rock: I'm so glad you're still reading! (And remember, I don't review as often as I should either, but hopefully, I'll start picking the pace up soon.)
Aureliasilver: Welcome to the story, aureliasilver! Glad you're reading and hopefully the pace will never grind to a halt (I must admit, I do sometimes think a chapter could have been shorter, but then again, that's how the story goes in my head. First a catacomb, then a carriage, then a ship, then a carriage, now a train…these lycans get around.) You're right about Reinette being quite broken at the moment, but then I suspect she's going to buck up something fierce after we hit London. No longer just Raze and Lucian, but a whole horde of rough lycans to deal with…many of them drunk. I'm sure she'll manage.
30 November 2008
Plot note: Just as a tiny note regarding Reinette's age, I must point out, I'm steering clear of the *poof* she's young effect. Right now, she's old and from her perspective and Lucian's, she's going to stay that way. I could do a crowd-pleaser and have her get young in the next chapter (I even went through a moment of ah ha, that's how it happens), however, in my opinion, it doesn't flow with the story. Hopefully, readers stick around until it occurs.
(There I said it. Yes, she's going to get young! Yes they're going to fall in love. But think of it as the War and Peace of Underworld. Choice A: love at first sight. Choice B: love over time. Since this is a prequel covering a multitude of years, I'm afraid it's going to be Choice B. I'll try and cover at least a couple months and years in one chapter so it'll go a bit faster.)
Final note: Remember…if Lucian's going to fall hard for some woman, she's got to be different from the typical woman he's been casting aside for the past six hundred years. His character does not trust women, treat them well, or care if they're beautiful, young, intelligent, feisty or whatever. For him, the romance has ended. He's had his one love, and now, relationships are about coasting from one beautiful woman to the next. They're play-things in his bed. Hence, the only plausible way for him to respect a woman enough to fall in love with her is for him to see her as completely off his radar. (That is until she hits his radar with an enormous train…which I guarantee you, Reinette will do.)
Reference:
Darf ich Ihnen meine Freundin Sabine vorstellen? - May I introduce my friend, Sabine? (Formal)
Ich freue mich, Sie kennenzulernen, Frau Tattergreisin. - I am pleased to meet you, Madam Old Woman. (Formal and rude, if Reinette could only understand her.)