Humans are so easily dazzled.
The receptionist looks a little mad first seeing them, but a quick lean over her desk and the use of his 'convincing' voice and they are in, the woman slightly flustered as she lets them through. His investigative partner looks more baffled than anything else, shaking her head as they walk past.
The room is packed with journalists from all forms of media, some obsessively checking over their recorders, some testing out their pens. Sophia pulls out her phone and a notepad, fishing in her bag for a pen, he presumes. "Got it," she mutters, taking one of the few remaining seats at the back. For human pretense, he pulls out a recorder of his own, priming the gadget before he has to hit play.
The Captain begins with some opening remarks, moving on to discuss the particulars of the case. A hand in front darts up. "Captain Stellman, are the two incidents connected?"
"All evidence points towards it," he answers.
There is plenty of clamouring, and the lady beside the Captain points at another reporter, who stands up. "Captain, are we to believe that a wild animal snatched another victim from a place so heavily under police patrol? No one noticed a huge predatory wolf take a person?" Sophia's ears perk up, fingers poised on the legal pad, ready to go.
He can see the tension on the man's brow, because the Captain knows in his heart the answer is no. "That is what the evidence points to. Autopsy reports confirm that both victims lost almost 60-70% of their blood to the attacker. Portions of the victims' flesh have been torn away in a manner that indicates the attacker might have eaten them, leading us to further believe that these are not homicides. As for the surveillance angle, officers reported no sign of any unusual activity that night."
"Is there any other motive you have been looking into? Did the victims know each other?"
"Until now we have found no proof that the two victims knew each other in any capacity, but we are still looking into that aspect, and questioning is underway. As for motive, this specific type of incident has never occured in MA history, so assigning motive to it seems rather presumptuous." That seems to satisfy the inquirer, and they sit down. There are some questions asked around regarding a more general spate of crime across the state and it doesn't really pertain the current issue, but the captain is more than glad to have the focus diverted.
"That will be all for today. Thank you for coming," the police PR rep dismisses the reporter, his companion rising to leave.
"Well, that was quite a bit of information." They walk out into the porch of the police station, rain coming down in sheets now. Sophia swears, searching her bag for an umbrella to no avail.
"Take mine," he pushes the one in his hand. "You're carrying electronic gadgets and sensitive information." You're human is one he doesn't add but has factored into consideration anyways. She doesn't protest, taking it.
"How far is your place from here? We need to get somewhere dry soon." She cannot show up at his dwelling, not when three more vampires are visiting it and will be more than happy to devour her for brunch.
"It's quite a distance. How far is yours?"
"Not very far, honestly. We can get there in like 10 minutes walking. Wait, don't you own a car?" And there's the question he was expecting.
"My cousins are in town and took it for some urgent business. So here I am, sans car. Believe me, unlike you I have no fondness for gamboling in the wet." She cracks a smile at that and they begin their journey.
"It's not 'gamboling in the wet', as you put it. I like walking in drizzles, not downpours like this."
By the time they reach her apartment, he is fully soaked in rainwater, shoes squelching on the tiled floor. She points him to the washroom, where he takes off his coat, shoes and socks, lining up the articles neatly by the shower wall. His shirt and pants stick annoyingly to him, so he discards those as well, stepping out with a towel around his waist to find his host seated in a chair, typing away.
She looks up, and it pleases him to see that his natural beauty isn't fully wasted on her as her eyebrows go up, eyes widening. "Did someone carve you out of marble?" Humans love statue metaphors, don't they.
"Gifted with the right genes, to be more precise. Are there any dry clothes I can change in?" She points to a folded pile in answer, attention back to the laptop. "I do not think your beau would be too pleased to find a stranger in his clothing."
"It's mine. I buy men's clothes for sleepwear because that stuff's roomier and has pockets," she answers, not looking away from the screen. He takes them and heads back to the bathroom and he notes that they smell overwhelmingly of pine and the unique scent that each human carries like a signature on them, and he finds that he quite likes the combination.
Once sufficiently clothed, Demetri makes his way back to the living room where a steaming cup of tea awaits him. "What do we have?" He throws out, and she looks up, staring into space for a while before focusing her stare on her cup.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, what we have. Yeah, okay," she looks back at the screen. "So they believe the two incidents are connected, which I agree with, but there's the whole part regarding the fact that they still believe this is an animal-related incident. And my biggest question is still going unanswered."
"How your friend was taken without being noticed." This is the fourth time in thirteen days that he's hearing some form of it.
"Yeah - it's just so improbable I would rather believe someone who told me that a werewolf did this." He can't tell her just how on the mark she is. "At least in that case I could understand how the accused took her to the site of the crime." She looks back at her notes, squinting at her notepad. "It looks like we've hit a dead end on the information side of things. All that's left is sleuthing on site, and I'm not doing that without some form of security or guaranteed safety." It would be very foolish, not to mention a waste of the time he saved her life. Sophia starts pacing around the living room, occasionally staring out at the storm, which has worsened. "It's gotten worse," she notes, looking at him. "You could stay here until it dies down, if you want to, maybe call your cousins and ask them to drop your car over."
Right, his cousins. Or just Felix in this case.
"They plan to return by tomorrow, so I'll just walk back when this settles down." She nods back at him, continuing her furtive pace. The rest of the day passes in him idly swiping through the TV channels, finally settling down on the Food Network.
"Where's your phone?" He looks away from Guy Fieri eating another giant hotdog, mind racing to find a decent solution.
"I left it at home cause it was dead," he makes a sheepish face, rubbing his neck for effect. "I forgot to charge it the previous night." His embarrassed face is apparently convincing enough, because she scrunches her nose in apparent annoyance and glares lightly at him.
"I barely know you, but the last thing I'd like is to get to know that you're dead, all because you couldn't call the cops or 911 because your phone was dead." Well, that would never happen.
"Your concern is touching," he smoothly replies.
Once the weather stabilises, Demetri goes to the bathroom to find his clothes significantly drier than before, but not dry enough to go out in. He has half a mind to ask her to let him keep the clothes he's currently wearing when Sophia knocks upon the open door.
"They've announced a curfew starting tonight, and it's already pretty late, so I could call a cop car to escort you back, if you want. If you want to stay, I really wouldn't mind that either. Safety first, you know, and I'd be a hypocrite not to let you stay after that whole spiel." That is an uncommonly kind gesture, especially since it comes without any vested interest from her end.
And he lets her know that. "That is really nice of you."
"Like I said, safety first." There's a slightly awkward pause. "So, you're staying then, I guess?" He nods. "Cool - I'm making dinner, so any religious restrictions, any dietary ones I should be wary of?"
"None, actually." Especially since he'll be quietly regurgitating it all later.
"Great! So, um, it will be ready in like half an hour." With that, she makes her exit, leaving him to tend to his damp clothes.
Turns out, Italian was the perfect choice.
There's salmon that she's just bought and enough stuff to quickly whip up a spicy eggplant tomato sauce, plus a sealed in-date box of pasta. She connects her phone to the tiny bluetooth speaker sitting on the kitchen island, putting on Florence and the Machine as she begins meal prep for the sauce and puts the salmon in the water for a quick thaw.
As the song changes, so does the salmon's location as it finds its way to the sizzling pan. The pasta bubbles away merrily on one end while she carefully sears both sides of the fish, doing her best not to break the filets. There's a small victory fist pump as the fish makes it way to the plate and the sauce is neatly transferred into bowls. The pasta done, she quickly plates the stuff and puts it on the table, turning back to the sink to wash the dishes and her slightly sweaty face.
"Do you all your guests get such special treatment?" Demetri gives the two plates an appraising look, and there is a small surge of pride in her chest at a job well done.
"Yep, I love to cook." Once seated, her attention is only at her food as she guzzles down the decent quantity of food on her plate, groaning slightly as the carbs hit her system. The rest of the meal passes in idle chatter - mostly about TV - and by the time she finishes her tea, the exhaustion is finally beginning to show. Her guest seems to have picked up on that, because Demetri shoots her a kindly smile and offers to clean up.
"I'll do it," she mumbles as he good-naturedly directs her to the bedroom, his oddly cool hands soothing her warm body. "Seriously, you're a guest, you shouldn't."
"And you might fall asleep at the kitchen sink, so I suggest you sleep, and I clean up." And she would have argued further if her body hadn't betrayed her and eagerly wiggled into bed. As her head hit the pillow, she found her mind unfocusing, eagerly entering sleepyland.
A strange dream involving a wolf, Gemma and her wakes her up in a thin layer of sweat; her comforter is tangled all around her, and Sophia finds her throat dully aching for water. After a short search for her flip flops, she makes her way to the kitchen, rubbing bleary eyes with her fists. Her mind dimly registers the fact that she has a visitor over, who I forgot to ask where he would be sleeping. She finds Demetri draped over the couch, a light blanket covering his form. She makes sure to not disturb him as she gets a bottle from the fridge, then makes her way back to her bed, absently chugging the liquid with half-closed eyes.
The next time she dreams, it involves her strange friend. Demetri is with her in the forest too, an alabaster suit of armor between her and the wolf. The canine regards him, and for some reason walks away, all the time growling angrily. Her sleep quickly breaks, and she shuffles her hand in the sheets to look for her phone to check the time. Her eyes look around the room, and if she isn't mistaken, she had just seen Demetri leaning by her bedroom door, watching her.
02:30, her phone reads, and Sophia whips her head up from the screen to confirm what she had seen before, but he isn't in sight. Walking into the living room reveals that he's still tucked in the couch, blanket curled around his form.
"Fucking dreams," she mutters under her breath, making her way back to the bed and hoping that this time, her sleep doesn't break until daylight.
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