Sorry for the wait, for those of you who have actually read this.
I also feel like I need to add this following note; I will not be including much of Shane and Claire action simply due to the fact this is not my focus. I understand the want for it, but this is not a story in dedication or appreciation to those two characters (though I do love Claire).
Anyway, enjoy!
Nyx's hands were shaking. Twenty four hours, she chanted repeatedly, the words whirring consistently through her skull, twenty four hours and you're done. Calm down. Ignore it. Only, God damn her, she couldn't. She needed to keep her head straight, yet her hands couldn't grip the glassware correctly, and her blood was boiling, her skin slick in a cold sweat. Since when had her skin exerted so much perspiration?
Dear lord, what was happening to her? She was falling apart, and in such a short time. Myrnin was hovering nearby, and his presence began to annoy her whilst she worked feverishly, pouring liquids and injecting and ejecting fluids. Her saliva was thickening, and her stomach growled viciously at her.
"Haven't you a clothes pile to sort through?'' snapped Nyx, severely irritated and angered. Maybe, the anger was subconscious. She'd enjoyed his… Caresses far too much, and they were affecting her. She heard him shift behind her, and she could sense the cold heat radiating from his skin. Too close, her mind roared, and Nyx shot to the side, beaker half-full of what they were now naming 'The Cure' in her hand, the pink-tinged liquid threatening to spill over the curved sides. Myrnin's black eyes were wide, and his hands were risen in surrender. "No, I'm meant to be assisting you."
Nyx's cheeks flared a merciless, hot crimson.
"I don't need your assistance. I just…'' Her greying mind suddenly spasmed, and she had to catch herself on the edge of the marble-topped counter. Her body had felt weightless a moment, then heavy like lead. She swallowed whatever saliva was left in her mouth thickly and said in a tinkling, light voice that didn't sound quite like hers, "I just need… You to go away. I'll be fine. Go on.'' She dismissed him like a child, and turned quickly around. The beaker was heavy now, too, and she set it down, bracing herself against the counter.
Myrnin wasn't moving.
"Fool! I told you to leave my presence! I don't need to be coddled like an infant playing with dynamite!'' she heard the cruelty in her voice, but he wasn't phased by it - rather, she sensed his mocking delight resonate through his voice as he coyly said, "You're not playing with dynamite - you're holding your people's existence in your hand. That, I am far more concerned with. Who would be idiotic enough to play, as you so immaturely put it, with dynamite?''
Nyx was at her wits end, and fit to kill him at this stage. His banter, she was too tired for, and his lucidity, she was ready to murder him for. "You, perhaps?" She muttered, then picked up a vial of silver liquid, adding three drops to the dissolved matter of the cure.
The cure's pink-tinged liquid took on a glittering, silvery sheen. One batch good to go, now if only she could find a syringe… She rummaged with set intent through the piles and piles of rubbish upon the counter that had been - with, surprisingly, no objections from Myrnin - officially appointed her own workspace, ignoring as needles so harshly grabbed at her skin, drawing blood before she shook the silver points away with annoyance - the used syringes wouldn't be of any use; already tainted with other liquids and chemicals. A clean one, she eventually found, beneath the rubble. Still in its packet.
She ripped open the packaging, throwing the plastic aside and listened for the scratch as it landed on the floor, and cleared a space on the table. She plucked a clean test tube and cork from a shelf above her, and set them down, nudging the beaker closer to her, too. She injected the syringe into the beaker, pulled the plunger up, and let the liquid be drawn into the adaptor. She expertly took the test tube in hand, squirted the cure in, and, laying the syringe aside, popped the cork into the top of the tube, turned it upside down and clucked in approval when no leaks were detected. She set the tube into a rack, alongside four others. So far all was going well.
"Nyx, honestly. You're working far too hard."
She whirled on her heel, distraught and riled. She pointed a shaking, accusing finger at him. "You are not working hard enough! You've done nothing but irritate my presence, and this so called... 'Assistance'? No. I have no time nor need for it! So buzz off and let me to myself."
With that, she turned on her heel, and steeled herself with the help of the marble-topped counter she'd been working at. Her nerves were fizzling, her brain just about ready to explode and her patience was non-existent. She required feeding, but at a time like this? Bah. It probably wasn't going to happen.
And that incessant prodding pain in her gums! It was consistent and becoming slowly, slowly intolerable. She let out a wistful sigh, and with Myrnin's hovering presence, she felt herself becoming more and more aggravated. Her pulse was hammering in her throat and she grinded her teeth together as she picked up another packeted syringe. "I shall go fetch some more needles," said Myrnin quietly, and she watched him go. His footsteps echoed up the stairwell, and she was left alone to her thoughts.
Myrnin's P.O.V.
Gods, he thought whilst a bony hand ran through his hair, she was hard work. Nyx's set jaw had really seeped its way into the core of his brain. Myrnin knew he was irritating to the point of exasperation sometimes, but never had he annoyed someone so much like that before. Well, that was not quite true – many had attempted to assassinate him in the past for simply laughing.
But this was entirely different.
He had pissed off his maker. The sole reason for his existence. But her people were dwindling in their numbers – her race had died off and now cowered in the night in the dusty town of Morganville. And Myrnin was a prized asset, was he not? Amelie often told him so, thus it must be true. But Nyx was so brilliant all on her own!
She understood the principles of Alchemy better than he, solved mathematical equations faster and far more thoroughly then he, and her tongue was crafted from valour. She was magnificent, what use was he to her?
"Moron, do not think you are inferior," he told himself as he let himself out into the alleyway by the Day house. "You constructed the rise of Morganville."
But Nyx had probably built up empires only to burn them down again because they had bored her.
With a strangled cry, he gripped his head in frustration as he turned back to the titanium door and barged in, practically flying down the marble steps before bursting with a disheartened flourish into the lab, his eyes seeking Nyx.
She was standing in exactly the same place, appearing to be frozen in place, her tired blue eyes locked on him. Her black eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as well as annoyance, and she tilted her head slightly as though posing the silent question as to why he was back so quickly, and empty handed.
"My dear," he began with an over exaggerated curtsey, "You have seen the rise and fall of humanity, witnessed the flux of your people! You have met and overcome some of the greatest philosophers of times passed, you are brilliant and intelligent and everything everyone should aspire to be greater than."
She was staring at him, partially confused, partially irked. "You make a good point. But the reasoning behind this better be good to compensate for the wasting of my precious time." She then continued to enforce her point further by tapping her perfect black-lacquered nails on the marble surface of her lab table in a patient rhythm which all on its own conveyed the end at which her wits were at. Clearing his throat, he nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, proceeding to pace along an empty aisle.
"Despite your obvious role as my superior, I, too, am a valuable asset to this experiment..." Myrnin trailed off, the words he so longed to speak withering in this throat. His tongue squirmed impatiently in his now closed mouth, and a look of pure frustration marred his exquisite features.
"What I am meaning to say – not very well as you can obviously see – is that your rather condescending and frequent dismissing of my presence does not go without annoyance," he said, almost muttering the words for fear she would take badly to their meaning, "and I really can be helpful, you know. I am the reason Morganville has survived for as long as it has."
When he glanced up once again, his Mistress had her dangerous blue gaze fixated on him and she did not even seem fazed by what he'd said.
She bit down on her lip, and with a swing of her hips was advancing towards him. "I am aware of all of this Myrnin," she said, her voice soft, "and I do not doubt for a minute your usefulness. You simply have to understand that... I am tired. I am old. I am hungry. These things combined can easily make a woman very intolerable of innocence, which you are undoubtedly full of sometimes."
She halted in front of him, a bare few inches separating them, and reached up with a single pale hand. She lay her soft palm against his cheek and he was almost shocked to feel its marble-like coolness. Of course, he knew she was cold, but this seemed... More intense than before. Well, of course, he thought to himself, it's simple biology. Deoxygenated blood would obviously allow the body to drop its usual temperature. And considering hers is well below a typical vampires', it's to be expected.
"Out of curiosity," he began, attempting to ignore her hand as well as he could, "how long has it been since you have taken a meal?"
He recalled their earlier conversation, and a sinking feeling dropped like a ton of bricks in his stomach. When the hunger became insaitable, he knew of the animal she'd turn into. Well, no, that was a lie. A dirty, dirty lie. He'd often seen the vampires of Morganville go into a crazed blood frenzy, when the thirst simply became too much to bear... But Nyx, a vampire who required twice as much and needed vampire blood, something incredibly rare in the world now, he had no idea what would happen.
But from her ragged appearance, she was already incredibly malnourished. It was evident in her entire posture, her facial composure, even her voice.
"It's been... two weeks, perhaps? I've been feeding from the humans, but it's... not what I need. The process is too slow, as I told you before. I'm not at all well." Nyx suddenly frowned, and turned from him. "The thirst is bearable for now. Do not fret. I can function without it 'til I take my leave."
She took a step forward, and because she no longer faced him, it was kind of a surprise when she crumbled to the ground.
Or, nearly did. Myrnin reacted on instinct and lunged forward to catch his maker as she fell forward. His hands wrapped around her waist and he straightened up, pulling her petite body with him, holding her to his chest. Her head lolled to the side and she slumped in his arms and it was evident she'd fainted. It was like holding a dead body – the cold skin added to the chilling effect.
"Nyx?" said Myrnin softly, shaking her softly. All he got in reply was the ticking of a clock in the backround, the woman he was holding completely silent and lifeless.
Myrnin clucked his tongue in disapproval and turned her fragile body in his arms.
As she flopped in against him, her ragged hair fell from around her face and her pale beauty fell into focus. He stood there a moment, drinking in her flawless features. The high arches of her brows, the slender, delicately pointed nose and her small but heart-shaped lips moist and slightly parted, all accentuated by her aristocratic cheekbones, giving her a daunting look. But to think such a beauty could ever look upon him in attraction was a ridiculous thought, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.
Nyx's P.O.V.
You must feed.
In her mind, she was awake. Fully functional, aware and alive. Well, alive in the sense of vampirism. And her skin, though her limbs were unresponsive, could and was detecting the presence of body heat that was not her own.
You are being supported by another being.
That much was clear, of course. She'd slipped from the conciousness of her physical body due to being so malnourished.
Attack.
Nyx's eyes snapped open, and her muscles spasmed in such a coordinated manner. Her back was pressed against Myrnin's chest, and so she spun herself around with little strength, making the move too quick and delicate for him to counter or even register immediately.
Nyx was not quite in a blood frenzy, so her body was responsive to her brain. But she didn't care for pleasantries, she didn't care to take caution and be careful with the body she would feed from. She didn't care, because in this moment where she could feel herself shutting down, where she could feel her strength draining from her rapidly, she couldn't afford to care.
With the precision of a striking cobra, she lunged in, and locked her arms around Myrnin's neck, who was too frozen in shock to register what was happening in that particular moment even though he was one of the quickest vampires she'd ever met.
Her lips had already peeled back from her elongated teeth, and with her vampiric eyes already focused in on a single pale blue vein against the Alabaster skin of his neck, she snaked in and bit down. Hard.
As soon as the cool, metalic liquid hit her tongue, she felt the hunger flare. As she swallowed her first mouthful of his powerful blood, she could feel it coating and soothing the burning sensation all the way down into her stomach. And as she was feeding, drinking in his life essence, feeling herself gain back her power gradually, Nyx was quite aware Myrnin had not and seemed to have no intention of stopping her from doing so.
She lessened her bite, attempting to retract some of the viciousness she had struck him with and succeeded. But yet, he did not move; not even an inch. He stayed put, his hands resting ever so delicately on her hips. It wasn't in a sexual manner, she could tell by the way he had and continued to respond, but almost in a loving manner. It was sweet even though she was a demon from a nightmare. A monster. Something less than human, more dangerous than a typical vampire.
With taking her last mouthful, she opened her jaws wide. Before pulling away from him entirely, she very gently pressed her tongue against the bloody punctures. There was a healing agent in her saliva, but she didn't do it just for that – it was kind of like a gesture of kindness and also apology.
With that, she flung herself from his arms, and turned her back to him, letting her face fall into her hands. Her dark hair flopped down in front of her and hid her from him. Aware that it wasn't exactly a foolproof nor effective barrier, she felt some comfort from it.
The silence was almost deafening and she could feel herself drowning in it. The awkwardness could almost be cut with a butter knife.
"Why do you hide yourself from me?"
Myrnin's words hung in the air like a foul stench that wouldn't go away. It went long unanswered, Nyx being too distraught to concoct an appropriate or even redeeming answer.
The air close to her back shivered and she could feel his presence getting nearer, crawling closer.
Why was she feeling this way? It wasn't as though she'd done it mercilessly or like a brute – she hadn't tried to kill him and failed, nothing even like that. But the feeling of unease and worthlessness wouldn't shake from her bones, set there like ice.
"Nyx..." Myrnin's heart was in his voice, so full of passion, and now so full of anguish, "why do you hide? Have I done something to offend you?"
"It's what you didn't do, old friend."
Nyx's head snapped up at lightening speed at the sound of this new and hated voice.
There stood the cold queen, dressed immaculately in white, a colour far too pure for one so drenched in blood. Her hair was pinned up, so perfect, so unrealistic. Her petite frame stood among the wreckage, on the very last marble step leading into Myrnin's lab. She glanced around the laboratory with a look on her face that could only be described as repulsed.
She took a step down and nit-picked at things with her tiny, claw-like fingers, basking in their stunned silence. When neither Myrnin nor Nyx had spoken a word in response, she took it as a signal to continue speaking.
"Myrnin, my lovely Myrnin," she sighed before taking a wicked glance at Nyx, "can't you see what you should have done?"
Myrnin stood tall, but seemed to disintigrate the closer Amelie came, crumbling away as his cowardice and terror grew in levels beyond average. This caused a tiny smile, one of victory, to cross Amelie's lips.
"She wanted you to fall apart beneath her, wanted you to feel the beast she truly is – and you did not do that." Amelie's voice changed. It went from this pitying, almost sullen tone to one of pure mallice. "Instead, you took her into your arms, allowed her teeth to pierce your flesh, allowed her to drain you like a tap! She is a parasite that feeds from your fellow vampires, and unlike the rest who fought and scrambled like trapped animals to be free of her, you caressed her like a lover."
Nyx could feel an overwhelming need to kill. Her eyes narrowed and she could feel the hackles on her neck rising, almost like an insulted cat. Her fingers shaped into talons and she could already feel the blood she absorbed from Myrnin working its magic to restore her strength.
Myrnin's face was a picture of reluctance. She could sense his urge to speak, to lash his tongue at Amelie to defend his actions but could also tell his brain working fruitlessly. How could be possibly deny the facts she was throwing like wildfire at him? She may be speaking the truth, but she was laying it out like he was both the criminal and the victim.
"You need not defend yourself to me, Myrnin. I know you like clockwork, though you may be unpredictable at times." She turned her ice-cold gaze on Nyx then. "You, on the otherhand, I know nothing about. You remind me of my father – a cruel entity of destruction, it raining from the sky where ever you go."
"That is not true," snarled Nyx, aware of the abomination that was Bishop. She knew of his ways and also knew of his failure. He couldn't rule an empire, he couldn't build, he could only create havoc. "You fail to realize your father was a failure of the highest degree – after all, you are his offspring. If that wasn't his biggest mistake, I'm not quite sure what was."
It was catty, it may have been petty, but Nyx was too infuriated to care about that. She wanted to dig deep, and break Amelie down to nothing without the use of violence. But if it did come to that kind of extreme, Nyx had no doubt what the result would be.
To Nyx's dismay, Amelie showed no signs of damage nor care for the dagger Nyx had thrown.
"Childish. Something I would not expect from you."
She turned her back to Nyx, facing Myrnin. "Do you not see what she is? Is that what lead you to believe you could love her?"
Silence. Myrnin wasn't exactly a master at hiding his emotions and wore them painted on his entire being. His lips tightened into a cold straight line and he took a moment before he spoke.
"With all due respect, Amelie, you do not know if that was my intention at all." He spoke, but it was quiet; a very poor defense. "I never believed I could love her. She simply isn't capable of the emotion, of that I am sure."
Nyx's world took a turn. She was thrown off balance, and the colour from her surroundings drained into a monochromatic picture of... nothing. How could he think such a thing? Is that truly how he felt? Nyx felt her knees weaken and her heart begin to race. Waves that she could not see but only hear crashed upon her like a storm, and she could feel her chest begin to tighten; she was loosing the ability to speak even though words would not form on her tongue.
"Then you recognize the beast in her."
And that's when emotion came crashing back and hit her like the paw of a tiger. Loosing all self-control, she lunged. Quicker than she'd ever moved to attack someone before, she flew airlessly over the marble countertop and was behind Amelie in seconds. With her vision so illuminated and precise, she paid close attention to the detail in Amelie's back. Muscles tightened and Nyx was aware Amelie was prepared to turn – perhaps to intercept Nyx's attack – but she wasn't quick enough.
Nyx's hands flew up and clutched Amelie's neck in a grip that would have instantly killed a mortal, and drove them both into the wall ahead. As the front of Amelie's body hit the tiles, they cracked and shattered around her, a dust cloud enveloping them both. Amelie's compulsion was attempting to build in the air around them, but with a simple thought, Nyx's power so much greater cast it away like a gust of sharpened wind.
It didn't matter if Amelie's usual guards were with her or not – nothing could save her now except compassion in Nyx's heart; if it was even there anymore.
"Since you have no other choice, you will listen to what I am about to tell you," said Nyx and her voice was so darkened and full of rage it was almost unrecognizable to her ears. "The beast in me is bloodhungry and vicious, but I am in full control of it at all times. You only think you know of its power, but you know nothing, child."
The air was cold and suffocating as Nyx's power began to build like a cocoon.
"Your existence was possible because of choices I have made in the past, and you are so blissfully unaware of how easy it would be for me to completely end you. You see, Amelie, you have lead a life believing you are the sole ruler of our common kind, the only other being more powerful than you being Bishop." She laughed. "You thought I was one of your subjects, an idiot, leading a life of a mortal surrounded by them. A fool is what you thought of me. You had no idea of who I really am." Her words cut the air like knives. "You have never cared to delve into your history, learn more of what you are, what you are capable of."
Myrnin was hovering in the backround and Nyx could feel his presence, like a fretting mother.
"But I will tell you this, dear child, I am your mother. I am the mother of your kind, of you, and for you to disrespect or belittle me is death. You may scoff at this statement, but already I have began to kill you. You can feel it, can't you?" Nyx waited and with only a choked breath of air as her response, her anger only grew, the beautiful demon inside of her edging closer to the surface.
"Can't you?" She snarled, animalistic in the way she almost screamed.
Amelie's body began to shudder, and Nyx could feel Amelie's mental compulsion trying to overcome the cold power Nyx was emanating. She scoffed, and loosened her grip on Amelie's throat. She used one hand to grab the woman's arm, and spun her around so she could see the monster she was being murdered by. Already, the light was fading from those icy grey eyes and Nyx smiled ever so slightly.
"Now, you will kneel," came a whispered threat from Nyx's mouth, her fangs extended. Amelie tried to appear defiant, but it was a futile and pathetic attempt.
"Nyx, stop," pleaded Myrnin, laying a hand on her shoulder. Because she truly cared for him, she did not attack, but she also paid no heed to his request.
With a wave of power so dark and vicious, she slammed it against Amelie. Even though these powers they possessed were mental, Nyx could use them in a physical advantage. The tiny woman so close to the brink of unconsciousness shuddered and a strangled cry left her lips.
"Kneel."
And with that, Nyx's hands fell away from Amelie's throat and the queen dropped to her knees, gasping, clutching her neck, a look of terror painted on her face like a mask. Nyx took a step back to watch her quiver. It was pleasing, but Nyx was aware she was abusing her power. Some time ago she had promised herself she would never do such a thing again, but extreme circumstances cause for extreme measures.
At least she had gotten her point across.