The following week quickly fell into a routine for Kyra. She would spend her days with her students, her lessons and class keeping her daylight hours full. Her nights she would spend with the vampire until the early morning hours. But it was beginning to take a toll on her, the sacrificed sleep and all the missed meals, she felt weak and foggy; as if she was running on nothing but fumes. Still, Kyra refused to allow her fatigue show, not wanting to concern an already irate Momo. His trepidation over her nightly activities had risen to an unhealthy level; he had become her shadow every moment he spent with her. Honestly, it was beginning to annoy her, but she understood his overprotectiveness; it was comforting that he was only a phone call away from becoming her white knight in a charging dinged up Toyota.
It was Friday, the solitary day of the week which she didn't schedule lessons in the hope of having a day to herself. She had slept far later than usual, not waking until after noon. It had been a productive day, despite her completely drained energy reserves. She entertained herself by paying bills and running the few errands she could without Momo's assistance. Kyra had allowed herself a short trip to the more prestigious instrument store, Fortuna, as a personal reward for making through the week without a single, stress induced temper-tantrum.
Fortuna specialized in high quality instruments, complete with heart stopping price tags. The owner, Mr. Von Chillo, had been gracious enough to donate learner instruments to her students with the understanding that she was to recommend his store to the parents as their children began advancing. Kyra was certain that he was able to keep his lights on for the last few years off of the heavy wallets of families she had sent to him. Von Chillo was a large weasel of a man but she was begrudgingly grateful every time she stepped into her music room at home.
Kyra was in desperate need of a new personal violin, the dreadfully cheap, second hand one she had bought nearly a decade ago was beginning to show its age, the sound it produced was warped no matter what she tried to revive it. Fortuna was not the place for her or her modest budget but it did provide the distraction she needed. Her spirit lifted considerably as she browsed the gleaming hues and it practically soared when she was allowed to test a finely tuned masterpiece; earning her a rousing applause from the other customers when she finished. But she quickly returned to reality when she foolishly asked for the price. She amused herself with the thought of selling body organs to make up the difference between the asking price and the current status of her checking account as she made her way back to the apartment.
The sun was just beginning to set as she stepped into the cool apartment, Momo would be home in less than an hour, leaving her just enough time to shower before her date with her captive vampire this evening. Kyra moved as quickly as she dared, knowing that if she rushed she would just end up as in an ungraceful heap on the floor, gathering a pair of comfy yoga pants and a muted green tank top.
Her thoughts were on her vampire as she slid under the scalding spray. Somewhere during the long hours with him, Kyra mused, she had stopped thinking of him as 'the vampire' and starting considering him as 'her vampire'. It wasn't because she felt any ownership over him but instead bore a wealth of affection every time her thoughts turned to him.
The nights were filled mostly with her talking; he was about as forthcoming with information as statue, and would only comment rarely. She finally managed to get his name from him only a few days ago, she suspected he only gave in because he was sick of the unique adjectives she would add to Mr. Vampire whenever she would address him.
He provided the name, Eric Northman; Google provided the rest. The website she had finally navigated to was for the local paper and had been an interview of local vampire business owners; it offered a surprising amount of information, ultimately shedding some light on the mystery of her vampire. He was a prominent business man, owning a successful club on the outskirts of the city, and was over a thousand years old. Mr. Northman had been a Viking warrior before he had been turned, the last of a royal line.
Kyra was desperate to talk to him about his exceptionally long life, but somehow she was painfully aware that the subject was off limits. Besides, she rather enjoyed the impromptu game that had sprung up between them. She would ask a question, he would remain silent as she quickly answered herself with wildly bizarre retorts for him until he relented and supplied his response. Mainly, she did it as a way to entertain him, trying to alleviate some miniscule amount of his suffering.
The sound of the front door shutting snapped her from her reveries and she hastily finished her shower, fighting her clothes over her damp skin before fashioning her soaking curls into a braid. She was roughly toweling the thick rope of hair as she walked from the steamy bathroom, the sudden chilly air causing goose-bumps to prickle along her bare arms.
Momo was in the kitchen, the smell of confectioners' sugar and flour tickling her senses as she neared him. "How was work?" Kyra asked, slipping onto one of the stools which were housed under the breakfast bar. He spun around from the open refrigerator with a sharp inhale, "Christ on a cracker, Ky, I'm going to put a freaking bell on you."
"How did you not hear the bathroom door open? " She laughed, "Or the shower, for that matter?"
"Not all of us have super ears, baby girl. Besides, you move like a freaking ninja. I totally wouldn't be surprised to come home one day and find you hanging from the ceiling, dressed all in black and throwing knives at flies." He snorted, returning to his hunt through the fridge. "And to answer your original question, if the McPherson bride calls one more time to change her cake, I'm going to go Donkey Kong on her fat ass and start throwing shit at her."
He shut the refrigerator door with a disgusted sigh, "I give, I'll just order some take out. You ready to go?" Kyra nodded, hopping off the stool, "Let me just grab my purse." She maneuvered to her room, tossing the soggy towel into the washroom as she passed it. Her fingers slid along her desk until they bumped against the canvas bag, she checked quickly that everything was there before meeting Momo at the door, sliding on a pair of ballet flats as he locked the door behind her.
The trip was pleasant as they filled the small car with laughing conversation and good natured teasing but she knew the instant they pulled onto Malcolm's street; Momo stiffened slightly, his unease slithering between them like an icy wind. The car rolled to a stop, pounding music flooded the space between the house and the car, causing him tightened his grip on the steering wheel, making the vinyl groan in protest.
"Do you want me-" She began but he interjected with a quick snap of his head, "No, call me for a ride. I'll make sure there is dinner waiting for you in the microwave." Kyra sighed softly before leaning over and brushing a kiss along his cheek. "I love you, Mo." He tugged lightly at her braid, "I love you too, baby girl, and stay safe." As always, Momo waited for her to go into the pitiful little hovel before driving off.
The moment she entered the house, Kyra wished that she had chosen to stay in the car. A mass of unwashed bodies overflowed the little dwelling, a mad crush of sweat and delirium. The smell of drugs, sex, and filth caused bile to burn in the back of her throat as she pushed through the swarm into the kitchen.
"Ky!" Her cousin exclaimed, throwing her arms around Kyra's neck, slopping her beer all over herself in the process. "I'm so fucking happy that you're here. Here," Audrey shoved something strongly reeking of blood near her face, "You've got to try this shit. It's so fucking good."
"That's okay, Audi." Kyra stated, slowly detangling herself from her cousin; knowing how volatile she could be in a state like this. She took a small step back, "You know I can't do stuff like that. It'll make me sick."
Audrey pouted then let out a peel of high pitched laughter before falling back onto Malcolm's lap. "You're so fucking lame, Ky. It's nothing but stick up ass with you. People would like you more if you just loosened the fuck up once in a while. Hell, this shit will probably get rid of those nasty scars all over your face. Seriously, you look like a fucking animal clawed off half your face."
"Love you too, Audi," Kyra muttered darkly, maneuvering towards the basement door. Charlie quickly stepped in front of her, roping an arm around her hips, hauling against his stench laden body. "I want to fuck you." His hand grabbed onto her backside like a lifeline. Her eyes snapped with fire as she pushed at him, "Let me go, Charlie," She snarled, "Or I'm going to break your nose again."
He pushed his face against hers, wetting his cracked lips, "You know I like it rough, baby." A dark noise rumbled low in her chest as his hand began clawing at the loose waistband of her pants. She slammed her elbow against his sternum causing the him to stumble back. Charlie roared drunkenly with laughter, Kyra quickly took his distraction to slip through the door and down the stairs, stumbling in her haste.
She rushed into the small cell; quickly shutting the distorted door behind her before allowing herself to take a breath. Eric was silent as she whipped her bag off, tossing it onto the dryer before stalking around the room for a moment as she tried to calm down. A few minutes later her hands had finally stopped shaking and she was able to gently pull his blindfold off. "Scared?" He finally asked when she tripped over his foot as she moved to get him a bottle of True Blood.
A small, bitter puff of laughter came from her as she opened the bottle with a vicious twist. "Livid." Kyra corrected darkly, "I should have broken that prick's nose again." She set the bottle aside, crossing her arms as she glared at the floor.
"Again?"
"He tried the same crap during the homecoming dance my junior year." She said, shoving at those stray curls that had managed to come loose from her braid. "He grabbed my ass, I broke his nose. You would think that he learned his lesson, but I suppose that's asking a lot from his little wombat brain."
Eric chuckled at her wording causing her to flash him a saucy smile. She perked up suddenly, "Oh, right, I thought of something last night."
"Yes, I do look better naked."
Kyra stopped digging around in her bag to glance questioningly at him. "You must be feeling better." He shook his head, "No, I'm fucking bored." She rolled her eyes before pulling a small baggie from her purse. "Ignoring that creepy detour, you mentioned before that you usually drank donor blood."
"It's not always willingly donated but continue." He stated. She turned towards him, looking somewhat shocked, "Seriously, what has gotten into you tonight? Normally, I have to pry your mouth open with a crowbar to get one syllable answers from you. I'm pretty sure this is the longest conversation we've had. Are you dying?"
Eric snorted, "I'm bored and, sadly, you are the only thing here that offers any semblance of conversation. You annoy me but it's, at least, better than talking to the water heater." She huffed at him but a smile toyed on the edge of her lips, "I'm glad to see that my original assessment of you wasn't wrong. You're a complete and utter ass-clown with a healthy dose of pompous douche."
"I doubt you'd say that to me if I wasn't chained down." He said with a dangerous smile. Kyra laughed at him, "You don't know me well. I'd have no issue calling you names no matter the circumstances. Can I get back to the original topic now or would you like to continue with this witty banter?"
"By all means."
She rolled her eyes again, "Anyways, you said you didn't like True Blood," She fished a small paring knife from the baggie, "So, I had an idea. I thought that I could mix a little bit of my blood with the True Blood and maybe it wouldn't taste so bad."
He was stunned by her offer, his fangs sliding out at the mere thought of real blood. Though he would never admit it, he had come to rely on her visits, on her ridiculous conversations, to keep him grounded, to ease the madness that clung to the walls of the room like ghosts. She had done everything in her power to alleviate his some of his discomfort, her stupid little stories offering a reprieve from his torture.
He could see how drained she was, both physically and emotionally. Dark circles darkened her eyes and she was far too pale for someone who still had a beating heart. Exhaustion hung around her like a cloak but she didn't seem to notice, her attention focused solely on him and his needs. Eric had spent much of their time together trying to figure out what she wanted, what she was expecting from him; if she was, in anyway, deceiving him. He hadn't been able to sense a hidden motive in her actions, there weren't any agendas, nothing but her need to save him. And now she was offering him her blood simply because he despised the taste of True Blood.
She was either one hell of an actress or the first person that he had very met in his millennia long existence that didn't act in self-interest.
Kyra chewed gently on her lower lip as he continued to silently study her, the weight of his gaze making her tug at the hem of her tank top. "It was just an idea, I mean-"
"You would do something like that?" He asked, cutting her off. She smiled gently at him, "Eric, if it would help you while you're stuck in this horror-fest, then I have no issue with it. It's just a little bit of blood, after all, I mean, I would even let you feed from me if you're more okay with that."
"No," He snapped, taking her back. Between the silver, the draining, and the lack of sleep, Eric knew he'd drink her dry. And, for whatever strange reason, he didn't like the idea of killing her like that. Kyra felt as he battled against his hunger, she knew then that she could trust him; that he wasn't the devouring monster that the ratty little papers claimed his kind to be. "Okay," She said, moving to the drain that the water heater pumped into; dumping some of the True Blood.
Kyra felt his eyes follow her as she reached for the knife, straining against his bonds when she sliced open her palm after a moment's hesitation. A feral growl bubbled in his throat as she allowed her blood to stream into the bottle.
The smell of fresh blood nearly undid him, punching him in the chest. The chains were all that was saving her life in this moment, the beast in him roaring, clawing at his insides until he burned with need. Eric thought he knew hunger, had reign over his baser instincts; but, right now, he was nothing more than a starving animal. The growl that came from him was primal, reverberating around the room until Kyra could feel it in her bones.
A tingle of fear slithered down her spine as she quickly swiped an alcohol swab over the stinging wound. She wrapped her hand tightly in gauze, awkwardly tightening the knot with her teeth before using a straw to mix the drink. Kyra inhaled shakily as she turned her attention to him, feel his primordial need as he continued to strain against the silver; his flesh hissing and popping as the chains melted deeper.
"Eric, honey, you've got to calm down a little." Her words didn't seem to have any sort of effect. Kyra swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't know what else to do, so she kept talking, "I kind of had a bad day today." Her voice wavered as a shudder rolled through his statuesque form. She swallowed again, her voice stronger, "I suppose it wasn't horrible, I mean, I wasn't hit by a car or anything but it just wasn't what I hoped it was going to be. I wasn't expecting fireworks or anything but Friday is the only day I have off during the week and I guess I wanted it to be a little more exciting than it was."
He was panting now, sitting back heavily in the chair, his body still tense. "It was productive, at least, even though I slept really late. I, at least, paid the bills that needed to be paid; now, Momo and I will have running water for another month; that's good, right? I stopped by a music store too while I was out. Fortuna, do you know it? It's super expensive, but they have the best instruments in the entire city. I don't know why I stopped it, just dreaming, I suppose. I left feeling worse than when I went in."
"Why?" He breathed the word out between great lungful gasps of air even though he didn't require them. Eric was shaking with the effort it took to re-cage his beast. Her absurd ramblings pulling him back from the brink, the musical lilt of her voice breaking through the red fog that had filled his mind.
"I fell in love with a seven thousand dollar violin." She admitted softly. "I have a violin; I have a lot of instruments at home actually, expect like a tuba or a drum kit, anything big and super noisy. I don't think my neighbors would like that too much. I do have an old piano, though, and that's pretty big but it's not really all that noisy, so, I guess that's okay. I like the violin the best though, out of everything that I play, I love the violin the most. But the one I have is old and super cheap; I bought it like ten years ago from a second hand shop and it's starting to get too old to play, the sound is distorted and off. I've wanted to get a new one for a while now but I have like zero wiggle room in my account. Are you okay now? I can keep going."
"In the name of God, don't." Eric stated sharply. Kyra let out a relieved laugh. She gestured to the abandoned bottle, "Want to try this again? You're not going to attack me or anything if I get too close, are you?"
He shook his head and she slowly moved to his side, kneeling next to him. "Closer," He insisted when she held the bottle too far away. "Oh," She said, moving it forward, "At least I didn't poke you in the eye with it like last time."
Eric ignored her, swallowing down the True Blood in gulps. Her blood did nothing to mask the rancid taste but slammed into his stomach none the less, firing through his body like a crack of lightening. His ravenous cells soaked up her blood and he felt a small piece of his strength returning to him. He leaned back when he drained the bottle, feeling as her blood coursed through his veins.
She set the bottle on the floor, looking up at him with those smoky eyes, "Feeling better?" He locked his gaze with hers, using the small return of his power to glamour her. "Undo the chains."
Kyra tilted her head to the side, her heavy braid falling over her shoulder. She felt something shifting in her brain, as if her mind was suddenly filled with a hazy mist. A part of her wanted to obey him; it made sense to let him go, didn't it? The logical part of her mind quickly came forward, rapidly listing all the reasons why that was such a bad idea.
She shook her head, picking up the bottle and standing. "You know I can't do that, Eric." She dropped the empty bottle in the barrel, wiping her hands on her pants before turning back towards him. "Yes, I could let you go and you could go and kill everyone up there after drinking me dry but, despite the fact that everyone up there is retarded, the majority of them are innocent. I will help you escape but I won't help you murder people. You gave me your word that you would wait until Malcolm and others left for Dallas."
"How did you do that?" Eric asked, disbelief darkening his voice. "What are you talking about?" She stated, leaning back against the dryer, "I didn't do anything."
"Are you related to someone named Sookie Stackhouse?"
Kyra regarded him with a confusion, "No, I don't think so. The only people that I'm related to down here, that I know of anyways, is my Aunt and Audrey. Why?"
"What are you?"
"Eric, are you okay? I mean, what kind of question is that? I'm naturally a human."
"You can't be."
"And why is that?"
"Because I can glamour humans."
"Are you serious? You just tried to glamour me? What the actual hell, Eric!" He ignored her seething words, "My strength must not have returned like I thought it did."
Kyra stiffened, looking outraged. Her hand dropped to her hip, "You're a complete ass, you know that? I can't be glamoured, you dog." Eric looked at her then, his eyes narrowing, "Why?"
"Oh my God, Eric," She snapped, "Because I'm blind."