(Sorry everyone for the late update, I've been a bit busy lately. You know how it is)
The next afternoon, you wake up in one of Russel Edgington's guest bedrooms. Sarah is still sleeping next to you, arm wrapped around one of the soft pillows. Russel was the first vampire you ever met who seemed to disdain humans entirely, judging by the look he gave you yesterday. It doesn't take you long to think about training for your undercover "mission", you don't know what you'd call it. A mission seems appropriate. You would have to be an actor and fool the witch into thinking you're just there to ask for help.
As you lie on top of the soft comforter, you reflect on the plans you made before you fell asleep. You'll have to be careful around the witch, she would know if you were deceiving her. She won't think you need her help unless you convince yourself. Method acting except you're not an actor at all. You'd have to do some research on the woman and whoever she's involved with. With Bill's help of course. He was the one who said he knew where the necklace was. So he must know something about her. If it even is a she. It could be a warlock, or whatever they're called. Wizard? Maybe still just a witch? You don't know.
You get up from your spot on the bed quietly, trying not to wake Sarah. You make your way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where Russel is standing behind the counter. He's drinking a glass of blood, and he isn't looking at you. You don't say anything as you walk past him to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He says something though, to your dismay.
"I know a few things about this witch, but it'll cost you." He says mischievously, leaning against the counter and smirking down at you. You turn to face him, screwing the cap of the water bottle off. You've never spoken directly to this man, and it's the first thing he says to you. But he seems like the type to do something like this, it annoys you. You clear your throat.
"What do you want?" You say, trying to sound neutral. Even though you just sound defensive. You hope he doesn't ask for your blood, but the way he looked at you yesterday indicated that he didn't like what he smelled. He takes another sip of his blood before he answers you.
"Just a small favor," He said simply, "Nothing too difficult." He shrugs at you, setting the glass of blood on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. You raise an eyebrow and look at him warily, leaning against the fridge and taking a sip of your water.
You swallow the cold liquid, "What kind of favor?" You're a skeptic. You have many reasons to be.
"I'll let you know," He grabs his glass of blood and saunters out of the room. As he leaves you feel a shiver down your spine and you glance at the empty doorway he went through. You'll have to be careful around him if you want to complete the mission. There isn't any way for you to research the witch, you'd have to go to a library or just head to Bourbon Street and walk around asking people about her. But that wouldn't go over well, that would draw attention.
As you stand in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge and drinking your water, you ponder Russel's offer. You've only had a few months of experience with vampires, what could he want from you? None of the other vampires you've met have asked you for favors. Maybe Bill could help you out with this, Eric might be better to talk to though. He's older than Bill, and Russel didn't seem to want to fight him yesterday. In the end, you decide Eric is the best option.
You take another sip of water and make your way over to the guest bedroom you slept in last night. Sarah is still sleeping, breathing softly against a pillow. You don't want to wake her up, so you step over to the corner of your room to your backpack. You unzip it and pull out a small notebook and a black pen, you'll write her a note in case you leave.
After you finish writing this note, you put it on the bedside table next to her and leave the room, closing the door behind you quietly. You creep down the hallway on your toes, even though all the vampires in the house can hear you. You don't know which room Eric's staying in but he'll have some information on Russel, you know it. Hunting around in a strange house wasn't your first choice, but it's all you're able to do. You don't know where anyone else's room is, you and Sarah went to sleep first last night. As you make your way down the hallway you hear faint voices coming from one of the doors and you put your ear against it.
"I can hear you out there." A deep voice says from inside, you open the door. Eric is sitting at a desk in the dimly lit room in front of a bunch of giant books, all of which are open. He's already looking at you when you enter the room, regarding you carefully.
You close the door behind you softly, "Hey," You walk toward him and sit on the end of his bed, "I need your help." Of course, he gets his room and his own bed, why do you have to share? Pam probably has to share too, you hope it's not Bill for her sake. She doesn't seem to like Bill very much, she couldn't wait to get out of Margot's car. Maybe she's with Margot.
Eric puts one of the books down and nods at you, "What do you need?" The man looks even better with a book in his hand, you want him to read you a bedtime story. You shake your head to dispel your thoughts before you tell him about what Russel said to you and what he offered, in exchange for a favor. He looks more worried as you speak.
"I see," He says, leaning back in his chair and furrowing his brows. He looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a moment, "What kind of favor?"
You shrug, "He wouldn't say, but I don't think it'll be anything good."
Eric taps his fingers on the desk, thinking again, "He's not to be trusted," He says finally, his voice snapping you out of whatever you were thinking about, "But if we want to find out more about this witch we might have to take him up on his offer."
You're annoyed that he agrees with this, you don't want to be used as a bargaining chip. Bargaining chips aren't supposed to go undercover, "I don't like it," You cross your arms over your chest and stare at him with defiance, "I don't want to owe him anything." You say, understandably. Russel was sort of scary.
"I understand, but we don't have much of a choice do we? We can't risk drawing attention to ourselves, Russel may be our best option to find information about the witch." He explains all of this to you and you understand. He's not wrong, this is probably the best option for you. If you die, you die. You sigh a defeated sigh.
"Fine," You say, "But I might need your help." You know he won't mind, he's helped you before.
"Of course," He says, relaxing his face, "You always have it." You thank him before leaving the room and going back through the hallway to the kitchen. You're hoping Russel will be there so you can obtain the information you're seeking. Hopefully, it's worthwhile. As you make your way to the kitchen, you can feel your heart pounding in your ears, you can't imagine how it sounds to a vampire. Probably like a drum. You don't know what sort of favor he'll ask for, but you're hoping it doesn't hurt you or Sarah in any way. As long as it doesn't kill you, you'll do it. This information is too precious. This is your best chance to learn anything about the witch. There wouldn't be anything about the witch in a book, they're private.
When you finally reach the kitchen, Russel is standing in the same position he was before, another glass of blood is in his hand. He looks up at you as you enter the room and you can't help the shiver running down your spine when he does this.
You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, "Alright," You try to sound confident, "What do you want me to do?"
He takes a sip of blood before answering, "I need a favor," He says after swallowing, "A simple one, I need you to retrieve a book for me." You furrow your brows, all this for a book? You couldn't get the information first? Why do you have to get a stinky old book anyway?
"Where is it?" You ask carefully, walking closer to the vampire. Not too close.
"The French Quarter," He says simply, pulling a slip of paper out of the pocket of his long red satin robe. He holds it out in his palm, arm stretching over the countertop toward you. You take the piece of paper from him and put it in the pocket of your pants without reading it first. You'd do that before you left. He didn't give you an address but you'll find it anyway. You don't know when he wants you to do this, but you hope it's soon.
Absentmindedly, you fiddle with the sleeve of your jacket, "What's it called?" You ask, looking up at the older man. Of course, he looks terrifying while he's drinking blood, most vampires do. But you think you could get along with him under different circumstances, maybe if you were a vampire.
He raises an eyebrow suspiciously, "The Faerie's Gift: a Daywalking Elixir." He mutters so quietly you can barely hear it. You tilt your head but don't say anything about it. Sarah mentioned Faerie's were real, or was it Henry? You can't remember and it doesn't matter now. Can their blood let vampires walk in the sun? Damn, now you have some competition if Eric ever meets a Faerie. You can't help him walk in the sun. They're probably all hot too. Shit. This is the con to helping Russel in exchange for information.
"When should I leave?" You want to make sure it's sooner rather than later, you don't want to spend a lot of time in his house. It's uncomfortable and there are always vampires around. Not that you have a problem with that, but you're their food. You're in a house full of people who would eat you if they got the chance. It's a little strange, especially when they always stare at you as you walk by doorways.
He raises an eyebrow, "Right now, of course, chop chop! The sooner the better, blood bag." He claps his hands at you mockingly and you curl your lip in disgust and turn away from him. When you leave the house you realize you don't have car keys, but it doesn't matter. You can walk to Bourbon Street, where the book probably is. After closing the front door behind you, you dig in your pocket for the slip of paper Russel handed you. You read it carefully, making sure you remember the information. It's an address for a bookstore in the French Quarter. You shove the paper back inside your pocket and walk down the long driveway.
As you make your way down the road, you hum a song to yourself to pass the time. When you reach civilization, you keep your head down and try to blend in with all the tourists walking around. Mardi Gras was a few weeks ago so there are still a lot of people around. Homeless people are also hanging around, sitting on the ground leaning on buildings, holding signs up. You reach into your pocket once more for the slip of paper with the address on it. You look around, trying to find the street sign written on the piece of paper.
You furrow your brows, you can't find it. You walk further down the sidewalk, stopping once more to look around for the street. You can't even see any numbers on the building, he wrote numbers for some reason. There might be some, but you can't see any. And you're getting jostled around every few seconds because of the number of people brushing past you. It's quite horrible, but you'll manage. You walk down the street again, looking for any signs relating to libraries or books. Fuck the street signs. The names of these businesses will help. You put the piece of paper in the pocket of your pants again.
Once you cross a road and make your way to the other side, like a chicken, you finally see a bookstore. There aren't any signs but the doors are wide open and you can see the shelves holding all the books. You take another look around before you make your way over to the store. Nothing out of the ordinary is happening, so something might be wrong. But you're not entirely sure, so you just cross the street and enter the store.
You step further into the store and you're hit with the scent of lavender and sage, not uncommon in a store like this. You look to your right, there's a table against the wall with an altar on it. A Wiccan thing. They tend to like sage. You don't mind the smell of it. Because you don't want the clerk to talk to you, you look around the store for the Mythology section. Humans don't know about Faeries. You spot a sign screwed into a wall and make your way over to the shelf underneath it. The floor creaks louder the more you step into the store, you purse your lips. The shelf is filled with thick books, tiny leather-bound journals, and tomes. Books you couldn't carry because they're so heavy.
You tilt your head a little so you can read the spines of all the books, and you use your finger as a guide. Walking further down the aisle, you see the book. A black book with dark green lettering on the spine. Faeries huh? Weird. You grab it and shrug, you don't want to read it, you don't care enough to. This topic doesn't interest you, you'd rather just meet one.
Taking a second to glance at the cover, you notice the art on the front. A faerie with wings being embraced by a vampire, you know he's a vampire because his face is buried in her neck. And there's blood dripping down the front of her dress. A very uncomfortable-looking dress, the poor woman. You sigh and turn toward the woman behind the register. She looks bored and irritated, anybody would be. Nobody likes working in the French Quarter. Too many stupid drunk people.
You smile at the woman as you make your way over to her, holding the book in one hand, "Is that all?" She drones, taking the book out of your hand and using the scanner to scan the barcode on the back of it. You nod at her when she looks up at you for an answer and she lets out a deep agitated sigh. You make a face but don't say anything.
While she's ringing you up, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand, goosebumps start to form on your arms and legs. You hear footsteps behind you and glance at whoever it is over your shoulder. It's a woman with dark curly hair piled into a bun on the top of her head. She has a mole above her lip and she's wearing a dark red dress that looks like it came out of 1775. She looks good, but the Renaissance fair doesn't happen here. So you're a little confused but you manage to face the cashier again so you can give her some money.
Some money... right. You panic for a second, do you have money? Where would it be? Do you remember grabbing any money on the way out? You reach into your hoodie pocket and desperately search for some money, "9.95." That is all the cashier says to you. You offer a fake smile that drops after your finger brushes against some paper. You furrow your brows and pull the 10 bill out of your pocket. Russel must've slipped it inside while you weren't paying attention. You thought you were, but you must have taken your eyes off of him for a split second too long. You won't be bringing him any change.
With a relieved smile, you hand the cashier the money and take another glance at the lady behind you. She's not there anymore, she's standing behind a shelf with her back facing you. While you're busy being suspicious of her, the cashier clears her throat and holds the book out to you. You thank her and turn around to leave. Before you can leave, the old-timey woman is standing in front of you. She has a kind smile on her lips and she's studying you intently. You stop in your tracks and just stand in front of her.
"Excuse me," She says airily, "I noticed that book, it's very rare. I've been looking for it." Her tone shifts and her eyes grow cold as she stares at you. Your eyes grow wide and your eyebrows raise, you step back in surprise. You grip the book tighter and collect yourself so you can glare at her. There's no chance of you giving this to her. Russel would murder you if you didn't bring it back. That's the worst-case scenario.
"Sorry, but I need this book for research." You try to keep your voice calm so the cashier doesn't kick you out, "I can't give it away." Of course, you had to lie, there's no research being done. Especially not about faeries. The only research you need to do is research the witch.
She takes a step closer to you, looking at the book in your hand, "I'll buy it, just pick a number." She smirks triumphantly, eyes still cold. You shake your head and flares her nostrils at you angrily. Not the most threatening thing you've ever experienced, but it's definitely something.
"I'm not selling it, you're not getting it." You hiss, growing tired of her behavior. You don't have the energy to deal with someone like this right now. You have a witch to think about. Someone needs to get their Victorian child.
"That book is dangerous, you don't know what you're dealing with." She growls, taking another step toward you. Your noses are almost touching at this point, and all you can think about is kissing her. Not because she's attractive but because she's far too close for comfort. You don't get this close to anyone unless you're fucking them. 1775 must've been a strange time.
You take a deep breath, "Girl I don't care, leave me alone, go back to the Ren fair." And without listening to her response, you leave the store and step out onto the crowded sidewalk, holding the book tightly against your chest. Obviously, it's important, maybe you should've read it when you had the chance. You can't read it on the way back, it wouldn't be good to be kidnapped right now.
