Attractiveness and magnetism of man's personality is the result of his inner radiance.-Yajur Veda
Fred felt as though he were dreaming. Falling into his own swirling thoughts, he felt gentle fingers stroke through his surely dirty hair in a slow, gentle rhythm. He breathed deep, taking in the scent of wood smoke and cinnamon, and something else indescribably feminine. He nuzzled his head against the firm thighs, as though to burrow into the comfort he found. He stilled suddenly, realizing what it was, or rather to whom he was actually being so intimate with. The hand in his hair continued the same soft rhythm, silently telling him it was okay so he relaxed. Never had he felt quite so peaceful.
It was then he scented blood. Bitter-a slight memory of a green liquor came to mind. While one part of his mind struggled to bring forward the human memory, the other became ravenous in its need to feed. He felt his muscle memory jerk, trying to bring him to a crouch, but his body was simply too weak to move and refused to follow the nerves commands.
Obviously, his new friends knew this as well. The carcass of a large caribou dropped inches from his face, its neck newly broken. He leaned forward, his body still lying on the ground, as his face buried in the thick fur of the animal's neck. His teeth made short work of the skin, and he took his first pull of the warm blood. The bitterness and sharp herby flavor matched the smell. He sighed softly, both from the relief the blood brought, and the soft stroking that had yet to stop. After a few more pulls, he remembered the alcohol-Absinthe-that he had once drunk in France. He smiled slightly, happy to have regained that memory. It was something that reminded him he wasn't always a monster.
He could do this.
Fred drained the one caribou and sat up, only to notice that a second was brought to him. A softly murmured "Thank you," and another carcass-draining a few moments later had him feeling almost normal.
He noticed the group of vampires, now surrounding him, smiling brilliantly at him. He knew he should feel threatened, but he didn't. He only felt peaceful and welcomed.
"Fred," Bella spoke up, waving her hand at his appearance. "I know you're itching to have your questions answered. But, do you think you might feel better after a shower and a change of clean clothes?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment, and Bella chuckled, "Come on, with vampire speed, it shouldn't take any time at all. Surely you can hold off a few minutes!"
The group chuckled at the surprised look and following self-conscious grin on Fred's face. "Um, yeah. Living in the wild for nearly a year will do that to ya."
Tanya gracefully stood up and reached out a hand, "Here, I'll show you the way."
He grasped her hand, and felt a jolt. Confused, he rose to his feet, and followed the curvaceous blonde into the cabin.
Tanya looked back at the tall blond following her. She tried not to pant after him, but it had been a while. He was absolutely gorgeous. Already, she got the feeling his pull was something more than most of her previous conquests.
That nearly stopped her in her tracks. Conquest? No, strangely, that wasn't how she saw him. She pushed that thought to the far back of her brain, unwilling to even consider such a thing right now.
She continued to lead him upstairs, to the bathroom. She walked in, and pulled clean towels out of the cabinet and set them on the vanity.
"Just drop your clothes outside the door; I'll throw them in the laundry. I'll bring by some of Garrett's clothes. He's the closest to your size. Feel free to use anything in the shower."
Fred nodded, a bit dazed, and she smiled. He really was endearing.
He walked past her into the room, and started to pull off his worn t shirt. He got as far as the buttons on his pants, before Tanya awoke from her reverie, and dashed out the door. She felt, rather than heard the rumble of a chuckle through the door.
She raced to Kate and Garrett's room, and grabbed a pair of boxers, jeans, and a flannel shirt to bring back to Fred. She heard the shower running, and, with her eyes closed, stepped inside. She placed the clothes on top of the towels. She heard a sudden sound and whirled around, her eyes popping open in case of danger.
She couldn't see him, but oh, what she did see. Through the frosted glass, she could make out his outline; strong thighs, obscenely wide shoulders, and biceps that, while not at body builder stage, just begged to hold someone. If she looked close, she could see the water droplets on his broad chest.
Oh, my, God and all the angels of heaven.
In other circumstances, Tanya would have dropped the clothes, and joined the luscious example of maleness currently residing in her personal bathroom. Instead, Tanya felt the heat in her face, even if she didn't actually blush. She grabbed the dirty clothes and brought them down to the laundry, running as though the devil himself was following her.
She stopped in the laundry room , taking deep, unnecessary breaths. She pulled his clothes to her face, breathing deep the bay, sea salt smell of her guest, and feeling like a complete pervert. She fought to focus and get his clothes in the wash. By habit, she checked the pockets, only to find a tattered newspaper clipping. Cautiously unfolding the nearly tissue-like paper, she read, "Ferry Sunk! No Survivors!" and saw a long list of names.
Since it was the only thing he carried with him, it was obviously very important. Carefully, she put it aside. There was more going on here than what was on the surface. She sincerely hoped that Fred would answer just as many questions as he asked.
She tried to ignore exactly why she was so rabidly curious about this new stranger, but had the distinct feeling it was quickly becoming a lost cause.