I can hear many of you sighing in relief and muttering something about author who takes too long to update...sorry for that; it takes quite a lot of an author to write lots of angst and drama and I need some time to recharge.
If you guys see any mistakes that need fixed (those that practically scream 'the horror!') please let me know.
II.
It was a good thing that summer nights were smoldering and dry otherwise her choice of clothes would surely be inappropriate.
Ceres pursed her lips and glared at Pip, blue eyes burning hotly, with all her might wishing that she could erase the damnable smirk from his handsome face. This was his entire damn fault - her current attire was his bloody fault and all the lead bodyguard could do was ruffle his hair and light a cigar.
Ceres scowled and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall tiredly. These clothes weren't her style; she was feeling particularly rebellious that Pip had come to pick her up, taken one good look at the simple garments she had chosen and threw her a paper bag filled with items - one sexier than the other - commenting that she should change quickly because they didn't have time to waste.
They were similar to what she wore but flimsier. Like the blue, glittery halter top that dipped low in the front and showed the entire expanse of her smooth back - with only a thin spaghetti strap tied around her neck and a few others crisscrossing in the back; or the immodest black jeans skirt that stopped a few good inches above her knees and the delicate, black sandals that seemed to be made more of strips of leather than anything else.
Not her style but at least Pip hadn't made her wear something even more revealing for the sake of this job. And the shoes were low-heeled too and not achingly tall and horrible looking like the usual ones she saw these days...
Good! She wouldn't look like a bimbo strutting her stuff with no shame. There were plenty of others to do that and Ceres was in no mood to be part of 'a crowd'.
'Wear what you want Ceres. No need to wear skimpy clothes if you don't want to Ceres. Pip...you are such a hypocrite sometimes!'
She pulled the cap over her eyes some more in an effort to hide the very noticeable color of her hair and sighed softly
My, but wasn't she in a bitchy mood tonight?
A male freak passed by her and she visibly bristled at the suggestive look her gave her. Or better yet, the way he eyed her neck - smart girl that she was for wearing a choker at this particular club - and her bare legs. His intentions were almost blinding, dark eyes lustful, and Ceres forced herself not to reach for her gun and blow his brains out.
Now she remembered why she was so pissed of. She really, really hated being leered at by men who thought themselves macho sex gods. Ceres sure as hell knew she wasn't swooning in delight.
'You haven't got a thing on Alucard, I'll tell you that much buddy.' The blonde allowed her eyes to fall to the tips of her toes when the vampire finally disappeared into the club. It was probably the secretive smile on her face that drew Pip's attention to her.
"Stop smiling Ceres. You can be scary when you smile - especially during missions. Makes me think that you're going to blow off someone's head any moment now."
The look in those green eyes was weary so Ceres, feeling sympathetic, allowed her smile to sweeten slightly. She couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for scaring anyone though. Being known as 'kitten' in a previous life had done little to her self-esteem.
"If you know any way to keep people from gawking at me like I'm up for bidding, you can tell me now and spare yourself a premature attack when I do take of someone's head of his shoulders. And blow our cover."
"You women are impossible." Francois piped from his cross-legged position next to her. "When we stare, you accuse us of being perverts. When we don't, you complain that we are insensitive and inconsiderate for not paying any attention to you."
He was aiming for miffed and confused but Ceres felt it better not to tell him that his accent was too cute for that. Hazel eyes and brown hair - heartbreaker
"You are listening to the voice of experience. Heed these words..." Hans joked, brandishing one of his knives - no doubt out of boredom. Light blue eyes and blonde hair - handsome.
"You are simply hilarious. Watch my ribs burst with laughter." Firenze rolled his eyes and threw Ceres an amused look to which she responded with a quirk of her lips. Raven hair and gray eyes - gorgeous.
Change that gray color to swirling red and...
"Sometimes I wonder why I ever decided to hire you people..." Pip muttered grouchily, throwing his watch another sparse glance. Auburn hair and green eyes - stunning.
Ceres sighed feeling suddenly gloomy and down. Their client was late; they were stuck outside like sitting ducks to any vampires who could recognize them for who they were and all she could do was compare her friends to Alucard.
She had gotten a chance with each of these men, the highest ranking in the Wild Geese corporation, and she hadn't even been able to muster the slightest interest in them. Or dating. Or kissing...or doing anything else like a sane, young woman would.
Obsession had never seemed as bitter as it was now. Perhaps she should've forced herself to forget? Or maybe do one of those 'memory wipe' operations that were starting to become popular these days.
Could work...
"He's here. Finally." Pip muttered, standing up and leaning one of his guns on a shoulder. "You'd think that he could try to attract as little attention to him as possible but he just had to come in style."
Ceres couldn't agree more with that last statement and under the cover of the night she grimaced slightly.
The car was completely too slick, too elegant, for such a place like this. Not to mention that it - obviously - was one of the newer models on the market and looked as shiny as if it were bought only moments ago.
Black, stylish and limousine. It screamed class and money and that was enough to give the blonde a very bad mental image about what could happen tonight. If the freaks caught whiff of who this man was and his important position in the government - they were kind of stupid but not to this extent.
The bodyguards mirrored each other in almost every way and Ceres thanked God that they hadn't decided to dress in suits or anything. Fancy clothing wouldn't have done them any good and she was quite positive that they could fight even better dressed in casual clothes.
It took great willpower to not roll her eyes in exasperation when Sir Alexander Watkins finally stepped out of the car. Dressed in a crisp, gray suit and black, sleek shoes; whispers of white lined the hair over his temples and barely touched the still blonde hair covering his head.
Somehow she had thought that he would look like this - perhaps she anticipated deep blue eyes though. His were earthy brown and still bright with something that made the young woman think of youth and fire.
It was only a fraction of a second that their eyes met and when Pip nodded curtly, their assignment returned the gesture, motioned for the two men to follow him and disappeared behind twin doors in mere moments.
Well at least that had gone well. It was an unwritten rule that they stay in the shadows and survey that everything runs its course smoothly. If possible without interfering and without giving their presence away to anyone. Making enemies of vampires wasn't a wise move and Ceres knew that from personal experience rather than just mere warnings.
"How long do we wait this time? It's chilly tonight..." Ceres wrapped her arms around herself and watched from beneath half lidded eyes as Pip's mouth thinned into a fine line.
"You can go in if you want. We're supposed to separate anyway or risk being noticed by certain persons. The last thing we need now is more trouble from other bounty hunters. Francois..."
Said man stopped polishing his twin knives and for a moment Ceres could see the wisdom beyond age written in his eyes. A young man of twenty-one should not have looked so jaded so young.
"Go with Ceres. Find a comfortable spot in a more secluded place...pick your position strategically. You'll be the closest call for help Sir Watkins has, should something happen tonight."
It was purely out of reflex that Ceres caught the long coat Pip threw her seemingly out of nowhere. She looked at him suspiciously and felt something flutter deep inside her belly when he half smiled at her.
"You didn't think I would leave you weaponless tonight now did you?"
She furrowed her eyebrows and actually rolled her eyes, having a few choice words for him on the tip of her tongue.
He had melted her knees when he had smiled at her but that didn't get him out of trouble with her. She was only a woman after all - she had fallen for that smile five hundred years ago but she understood its significance better now that she wasn't in love with him anymore.
Her woman's intuition told her that Pip knew something more than he let others be aware of. Like those certain persons he had let slip out before managing to control himself. (She wasn't daft. He had meant to keep that bit of information from her, that much was obvious)
Ceres smiled and hummed softly, listening to her companion talk about something she wasn't paying attention to.
She really hoped that nothing truly bad was going to happen tonight.
It was just as she had thought. The club was positively the lowest of the low.
She gave it bonus points for cleanliness, the futuristic atmosphere and the dark colors it was decorated in. Such were the only good traits of this so-called Blue Lagoon club. And they could be counted on the fingers of one hand easily.
Disadvantages though...
Her spine stiffened and straightened when several freaks turned to look at her as she passed them by. She could feel their stares drilling in her back - it made the hairs on her hands and the ones on the back of her nape stand up; an ancient survival instinct that had deep roots. A shrill cry that alerted people of the dangers around them.
For one of the few times in her life, Ceres felt gratefulness for the presence of another man by her side. A man armed with two deadly knives, a Magnum and several lethal poisons deadly to humans and potentially harmful to vampires.
This definitely had its quips though, even if she didn't quite appreciate being the defenseless female in this situation.
Oh well. As long as no one suddenly pounced her from the shadows - and try the ever corny scenario all bad guys came equipped with - she wasn't going to cause a ruckus and slaughter anything that came close to her.
Now what had she been thinking of? Ceres drew closer to Francois and was rewarded when he threw a hard look to all those getting too close to her.
Ah yes. She was criticizing this renowned dump, which was actually a brothel in disguise.
She turned her head from the sight of a woman straddling the lap of an old man - a vampire woman who was completely bereft of anything from the waist up. With only some leather strips crisscrossing her back and front but hiding nothing important.
The entire concept, the idea that a woman would stoop so low as to act like that, disgusted her beyond what Ceres had thought possible. It was the only reason why she needed to drink something and cool the anger burning in her chest.
It was a real wonder that she had accepted this mission wasn't it?
The spot Francois had chosen was in a more secluded corner of the bar, where the lights were dimmer and less people passed. The atmosphere was cozier when she couldn't see what others were doing a few feet away and Ceres didn't even mind that they were half hidden behind a large marble column.
All the better. She could notice and not be noticed and in her line of job, that was all that really mattered. If this night ended now, it still wouldn't be too soon.
"So Ceres..." Francois interrupted the sentence to order something to drink. The waitress, a pretty little thing even by vampire standards, blushed under the full charm of that smile and scurried to bring their orders. "I've been meaning to ask you this for a while but I've never really gotten around to it."
Another pause and yet another small smile to the young woman who brought their drinks. Ceres twisted a lock of hair between her fingers and briefly wondered what a nice woman like this was doing serving a couple of bastard vampires.
"You've always been a good fighter, a great woman, and always a good friend for all of us of the Wild Geese. You've got the brains, the brawns and certainly the beauty to go with it..."
Ceres didn't like the direction this discussion was going to. Really, really didn't like it.
Maybe the person her client was supposed to meet had already come? Hopefully? She took a peek out of the corner of her eye but Sir Watkins was still surrounded by only his two bodyguards, still looking cool and collected and so out of place in the massive crowds of indecently clad men and women.
Damn.
"So why is it that you've not yet found the ideal man who was going to love you for your entire life? It seems kind of unfair to me."
An image of the ideal man - or at least the one she was still thinking of because he was definitely not ideal - flashed through her mind and he had raven hair, blood eyes and a fanged smile.
Not something one could associate with the emotion love...of any other for that matter. Still, she owed Francois an answer.
"I suppose it is because I haven't yet found the right man for me." She shrugged in what she hoped was disinterest. "My job keeps me busy."
"You could've just told me you didn't wish to answer."
"You could've not asked."
"I give up. You women are really impossible." The accent was back with a vengeance and Ceres sipped her drink, mindful of the amount of alcohol it contained. "You talk just like my girlfriend when she's mad...and I was just trying to help."
Apparently he was not so jaded after all. It was slightly disturbing to see a grown man pout. Wasn't that one reserved for women?
"You know the rules Francois." Ceres's smile held an edge of playfulness to it. "No harassing little sis about her victims and certainly not in a place full of bloodsucking vampires and ruthless killers. No mixing pleasure with business."
She wiggled her finger in his face disapprovingly and felt a giggle burst forward when he indulged her and his eyes crossed comically.
For a moment Ceres could almost forget the throbbing ache forming in the back of her head...almost, because in the next moment the music started again - blaring in a steady tempo of electric guitars, drums and screaming, unintelligible voices - and the headache returned full force. She couldn't understand how these vampires, with their sensitive hearing, could stand these god-awful noises called modern music.
The volume was loud enough to make the floors vibrate and her limbs shake and twitch convulsively. Ceres was grateful that she was sitting down because the vertigo that had suddenly overtaken her senses brought with it the taste of bile and glue in her mouth.
She took another swig of her drink and heard herself weakly ask if Pip had anything new on the people that were supposed to arrive. The answer was a shake of the head and a worried question of 'are you feeling well?', which she batted away with another of her sugary, fake, smiles.
God...why was she feeling so sick? Ceres groaned lowly and leaned her head on the wall closest to her, watching the crowds move on the music but not paying attention to anyone in particular.
Two club bodyguards by the dancers' booths, two others sitting casually next to an artificial plant (that kept blooming and withering every five minutes - probably a busted microchip), one other next to the women's bathroom and five others she could see from the corner of her eye.
For such a club, they sure were being precautious with their employees and clients. Probably so that vampires wouldn't jump them should bloodlust turn them into wild beasts, mindless with hunger.
She also caught sight of Hans and Firenze; making themselves as inconspicuous as possible by lounging on some leather couches on the other side of the club. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, drinking and playing a game of digital cards, but Ceres knew better than to think they were completely comfortable with their surroundings. Under those sweaters and coats were wired muscles ready to carry their owners into action at the sign of the smallest glitch.
Another sip of her drink. Instead of receding, the weakness in her body suddenly increased and Ceres could swear that she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. The electrical light burned her eyes and the nausea returned full force.
It was like something or someone was affecting her. Could it be that there was someone with a stronger aura in this club and not just a bunch of weaklings? Ceres had always known herself more susceptible to these kind of intangible things; what with her dreams and all...
Vaguely she felt Francois lean closer to her. She also felt him grab a fistful of her hair and throw it over her shoulder, and then curse viciously when he felt the temperature of her forehead and cheeks.
Was she burning?
"Ceres...Ceres are you feeling alright? You're positively burning up and you're drenched in sweat." In the next moment she was hauled by powerful arms into someone's lap. She uttered a blissful groan when Francois applied pressure on her nape and temples, easing some of the stinging tension. "You should've told us you were sick girl. We can't do anything with you when you're ill...next time stay home."
The floor was spinning with her and she managed to express, what she hoped was, her indignant anger at being considered weak.
"That's not nice language for a young lady to use Ceres Victoria Ashcroft. Now be a good girl and take these."
She almost gagged when he opened her mouth and forced some sort of medicine down - liquid and vile, it made her want to throw up all over again.
"You've chosen the worst possible moment to fall off your feet."
No water followed said medicine and Ceres cursed some more, finding the sudden strength to draw her arm back and lightly punch her friend in the chest.
It was most satisfying when he grunted and loosened his hold on her. Went to show that her light punch wasn't as light as she had thought it to be.
"What was that for woman?"
"For trying to poison me with that thing you poured down my throat. For crushing my windpipes and manhandling me like a sack of potatoes. Now put me back or I will pull that earlier stunt once more until you do."
Within moments she was deposited back in her chair, a little too forcefully in her opinion, and Ceres knew that her warning had been heeded.
"I was trying to help you know..." Francois ruffled his hair and tapped his ear once. Something glinted blue, like a reflection, and a small headpiece beamed to life, seemingly out of thin air. A communicator with the rest of the team - each member of the Wild Geese had one to use in case of separation or to transmit data and information.
There was a moment of silence, which Ceres used to gather her wits once more. She was feeling slightly more alert now, but she was not touching another drink tonight - and especially from this part of town. God only knew what had been in that glass.
"It's about time they got here...they sure let themselves be waited for. I see. We'll be ready in case anything happens."
"Let me guess - we'll be able to leave this place in a short time?" Ceres coughed, sounding a bit raspy even to her own ears. Her voice - obviously - still needed to recover.
A queer glance later, a half full glass of water was pushed towards her and she wasted no time in gulping it down greedily. The medicine had made her feel marginally better - she didn't feel her flesh so hot anymore - but the headache however was thrumming insistently just about everywhere in her head. It had gotten to the point where the whole thing was in sync with the music...and what a fast beat this song had!
Groan.
"Try not to move too much cherie. I'll take care of this mission and then take you to a doctor."
Whatever she wanted to say was cut immediately by a sharp glance. "And I won't take no for an answer from your stubborn little mouth. You were feeling good a few moments ago and all of a sudden you almost pass out on me. You're going to see that doctor if I have to tell Pip to throw you over his shoulder and carry you around. Now lean back and try to keep still or I'll do it for you."
Ceres snapped her mouth shut and her lips thinned in displeasure but she did what he said nonetheless. Francois was right on more than one account anyway. She was too shaken to go or do anything right now - like something world quaking had just happened and she didn't know it yet.
The boys were going to have to make ends meet without her help tonight.
Blue lightning flashes bothered her eyes and Ceres realized that she had been staring right into the stroboscopic lights.
"Would you take a look at that," Francois furrowed his eyebrows, a gesture spawned from irritation and nervousness, and adopted a similar position to hers. "The bastard brought two guards with him too. He did a good job of finding them too...especially the intimidating one dressed in red and looking like he could rip your head apart without too much effort."
Thump.
"And I muse admit that I've never seen a man with snow-white hair before. Didn't think the color existed."
Thump
"I'd check it out and assess the situation for myself but I'm afraid you've cornered me behind this pole." Ceres rubbed the bridge of her nose absently, mentally berating herself for the way her heart jumped and sped up.
Confused whether it wished for the red clad man to be the one she wanted to still be alive or someone else.
"If you promise you won't pull a stunt like the one before and die on me I'll let you take a peek and see."
"I'll try not to." Her voice sounded strained even to her ears and the words had been drawn out unwillingly. Like her body had suddenly developed a mind of her own.
'Just tell him you'd rather not.' Her brain supplied helpfully. 'It's only foolish dreams.'
'But you know you want to see if it is him.' Her heart countered fiercely. 'Would you deny yourself at least the slightest possibility? What's a few hundred years to a master vampire after all?'
What happened then was the carbon copy of a movie scene. The drama and the anxiety - like her stomach was close to dropping to her feet.
She was afraid to look and so she kept her eyes trained firmly on her companion as he picked her up from her seat and set her into his lap (with as much care such a tall and well-made mercenary could ever possess).
Her knees felt like jelly and she wondered why considering that she was sitting down.
Thump.
She was afraid to look and her smile was shaky when Francois asked her why she was stalling? If she was feeling all right.
Her hands were so tightly clenched in the lapels on his coat that the knuckles had turned an odd shade of sickly yellow; her tendons were so very pronounced that she could clearly see them moving beneath her tightly stretched skin.
God but she was acting ridiculously. It wasn't him and she was strong enough to turn her head and convince herself that she was still normal.
Her mind rebelled against the thought and whispered that she was the least sane person because she was here and because her thoughts were a jumbled mass of desire, longing and need for something that surely wasn't even behind her.
Thump.
She turned her head slowly, sky blue eyes wide, and her gaze swept over the shadows and lights playing frantically on the wall, the massive crowd of people moving against each other.
Ceres hadn't believed that all those movie effects could ever come true in real life (even just as make-believe) but she swore that when she caught sight of him, her entire world narrowed down, the music hushed abruptly and a wave of feelings, so potent and powerful she couldn't completely grasp, slammed into her.
Thump.
She had been a sinner in her past life…
Shoulder-length hair the color of raven's wing. She had longed to push those bangs out of his face tenderly a long time ago.
Thump-thump.
…she had been part of a nocturnal race of predators…
Eyes the color of dark blood with a ring of prominent orange circling the iris. She had known those eyes better than her own once.
Thump-thump.
…her sins were coming back to haunt her…
Red trench coat, old-fashioned Victorian suit and combat boots. The glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose and the wide-brimmed hat was pulled down over his forehead shadowing his expression. But she had seen him so many times without the mask he put on.
Thump-thump
Alucard.
Alucard.
(Queer look) This sucks and it should get first prize for coming out so horribly. Forgive my obvious lack of talent in this chapter…it obviously comes and goes whenever it wants.