Power was an all encompassing entity for Tara because when she discovered she liked it she wondered why she hadn't taken more of an initiative to wield it. Then again she'd been concerned with her worth for so long it was hard to see herself as good enough for Godric's line. She smiled sadly wondering about her family. Would they be proud of her? She'd run away without a word like a child and still hadn't contacted them—then again what could she say? The words 'fear' and 'afraid' came to mind, but she didn't want to feel vulnerable enough to use the words which were in all honesty fit. Pam was to blame, but she was disillusioned enough to think she didn't have her part. Tara had allowed the feelings of insecurity to seep in and fill her with dread and foreboding with just being around Pam. A hell of her own making, a prison she governed with a hard hand of insecurity she felt the chains snapping finally.
She watched Maryanne drink her wine and thanked the waiter, a man with a thick white mustache, as he dropped off their dishes. Tara ordered a steak medium rare and Maryanne chose fish, Tara couldn't pronounce the name, but it must have been good from the way the brunette moaned. The vampire was mesmerized by the slow sliding fork removed from Maryanne's mouth.
"Good?" she inquired sitting back enjoying the show.
Maryanne nodded covering her mouth with her cloth, "it is," she answered when her food was finally chewed. "Tell me about you," Maryanne sipped from her glass waiting for Tara's answer her eyes inching over every detail itching to scratch at the wall Tara put in place to warn off anyone from getting close. The vampire could never know how alluring that was for Maryanne.
"What's the fun in confirming what your private eye has told you?"
The brunette steeled her gaze, but she didn't deny or confirm the statement. Tara chose not to continue deciding that if there was to be an uncomfortable silence her guest would have to end it.
"I haven't opened the folder yet. It's sitting on my desk in my office."
Tara leaned forward purposefully, "tsk tsk tsk," she shifted her tongue admonishingly; "you know my kind aren't known for their trustworthiness or mercy. Why ask me here? What do you want?"
The boutique owner stalled drinking another glass of wine. When she was done she spoke slowly as if testing the words and their validity before she got the whole phrase out, "you're beautiful," she started. "I wanted to know you the moment I met you. Does that sound completely adolescent?" It sounded like bullshit to Tara.
Tara shook her head, "no," though she wouldn't let on immediately she distrusted Maryanne. She'd done some homework of her own about Daniel Lesaron's ex and while she might seem like a mild mannered boutique owner on the outside she wasn't what she seemed. The research intrigued Tara which was one of the real reasons she decided she agreed to this meeting. She was knee deep in Daniel Lesaron's work life more of a fixture than she supposed she would like many people to know about. Privacy didn't alarm Tara. No, it was the efforts in which Maryanne had taken to look as docile as she did when in actuality she had her hands on several projects like the one that concerned her employer. Tara came up with several reasons why someone would hide their true nature and as she delved more into the woman's life her fixation on vampire's would be her undoing.
"You didn't have to order that on my behalf," Lesaron's ex nodded toward Tara's untouched plate.
Tara looked around. The establishment was vampire friendly, but as a consequence of living with Franklin and the nature of her work she found it hard to enjoy restaurants like these. On the surface they were no different than any other five star restaurant with mood lighting and a classic style that impressed upon customers an expensive atmosphere. It stank of money, one of the reasons the dark skinned vampire assumed Maryanne would choose such a place. The woman loved to be surrounded by luxury perhaps as a constant reminder that she wasn't some middle class little girl from a small town from Missouri anymore.
Maryanne continued, "what are you in the mood for?" she asked excitement rolling off of her in waves. "I could get you a menu," she suggested.
Tara shook her head well aware of the second menu she was talking about printed specifically for vampires. She had the choice of drinking wine out of the bottle or going into a backroom where a human would be waiting to be bitten and drank from. She distrusted that as well so she shook her head watching the glitter of excitement fade to an ember of disappointment.
"I wanted to feed you."
Tara acknowledged the woman's desire, "you still can," she responded meaningfully.
With a face awash with shock Maryanne recovered slowly sending nervous glances around the room as if she was almost certain someone was listening in. Completely embarrassed to admit it she decided that Tara needed to know this one truth about her, "I've never done that before."
"You've never blushed before?"
Brown eyes narrowed, "is fucking with my head a vampire thing or is it something that's quintessentially engrained?"
"I'd like to think it's instinctive," Tara confessed. "But, it makes things a whole lot easier if you just said what you wanted to say instead of beating around the bush."
Maryanne paused, "you know what I mean."
"It's so much more fun giving you a hard time," a row of white teeth on display in a grin that wasn't entirely kind graced the boutique owner.
"I don't play games."
"I do," Tara decided at that moment with a plan forming in her head just how far she was willing to go with her game. "I recommend you open the file," she suggested.
A brow curved in curiosity.
"To make it fair—I had someone check you out as well. A vampire can't be too careful when an overly friendly human waltzes in plays nice. Everyone's got an ulterior motive these days," she shrugged downplaying her paranoia.
Though Maryanne looked at the plate Tara hadn't touched. None of the food had been shifted left to grow cold be wasted.
"I don't understand you."
"Open the file it'll make it a lot easier. I assumed you paid your guy."
Maryanne didn't correct her about the sex of her private eye and Tara didn't let on that she knew the sex, the name, and the office in which the snoop worked out of. The woman across from her was a creature of habit and so it wasn't hard to anticipate who she'd go to when she wanted information about Franklin and Tara. The killer's got to the private eye first and one would think over a decade of service might have made the investigator a bit more loyal and less susceptible to a bribe, but Janine it seemed was immune to the sentiment of loyalty when it wasn't green and didn't crinkle. It was a small price to pay to have specific untruths laced in the file to create the persona they were trying to pull off.
The waiter came by to refill Maryanne's glass then with a look of distress asked if there was something wrong with Tara's meal.
"It's delicious," the dark skinned vampire didn't take her eyes of her date and the waiter holding his bottle shifted in indecision before he left sending another glance in her direction when he was to the doors of the kitchen. "At least that's how I anticipate you'll taste."
Brown eyes flicked to Tara's plate then to the line of Maryanne's mouth interrupting her sentence because Tara wasn't really listening anyway.
"I don't want you nervous," she slid her glass to her recommending with the gesture she drink.
Seemingly offended by the accusation she, "I'm not."
"You are," Tara's voice lowered, "it's cute."
"I've been called a lot of things, but cute," she shook her head, "…am I you're toy now?"
"I've been thinking about it."
"That how you look at your humans isn't it like toys?"
"Some of them—and others I take more seriously like the zealots who hate us and the businessmen who want to work with us."
"I should be offended."
"You should be flattered," Tara corrected. "If I claim you as mine—then you're just mine."
Maryanne's thumb caressed the cook metal of her fork and she briefly wondered if Tara's skin would be as cold since her personality didn't infer warmth.
"I'm nobody's."
"We could play this game," Tara conceded, "but it won't last—I think we're headstrong enough to make this cat and mouse amusing, but you'll be fooling yourself if you think you're anything but the prey."
"Outmatched by your ego I think."
"I'm stronger, faster, older with enough common sense to get me by for a few more decades. You're outmatched by more than my ego."
"I won't make this easy for you."
"You already have," Tara gloated.
If Maryanne truly wasn't interested then she would get up and leave. Tara was picking up the check anyway. If she was concerned about carrying on with a vampire her body language didn't show it even when her arousal battled with signs of apprehension.
The pale brunette stood. She collected her things and with genuine indignation strode to the door in heels. Tara didn't worry about not catching up. In the minutes it took for the brunette to reach her car Tara paid her bill and sped to the parking lot where her car sat. She found Maryanne waiting at her car.
"I called a cab," she answered defiantly her arms crossed to cement her refusal to give in.
"Cute," Tara didn't mean it as a compliment adding a little bite to the word.
Maryanne's door unlocked twice and Tara went around to the passenger side opening the door for the human who eyed her strangely, "I'm driving."
Considering her options the boutique owner opted to get in knowing that if she did she was opening herself to a world of strange and frightening possibilities. She heard stories about human and vampire interactions, she wouldn't fool herself to call them relationships. If she got in she would be saying yes to plenty of things she couldn't say she cared for, the first thing would have to be acquiescing to be a vampire's toy. It was demeaning and not at all what she was interested in on the surface anyway fully acknowledging that somewhere deep down she wanted to be owned and taken over. No man or woman had ruled in the way she wanted and perhaps she could be with a vampire. The prospect alone guided her to the other side of her car and kept her still as she buckled her seatbelt when Tara started her car, possibilities indeed.