FIVE
The next day dawned under a bleak, cloudy sky. The grey stretched as far as I could see, matching the strange, restless feeling gnawing at my mind. Cayla was recovering back at the hotel after the close call the other night. But I couldn't stand the idea of sitting around in a quiet room, so I decided to wander through the local market. Maybe losing myself in a crowd, in the chaos of colours and voices, would settle me.
The market was bustling despite the gloomy weather. Stalls were lined up with everything you could think of, from fresh flowers to vibrant, hand-painted pottery, creating a patchwork of colour against the sunless sky. I drifted between them, brushing my hands along rough-textured fabrics, cool metal jewellery, and dusty antique trinkets. For a second, I thought I felt the weight of eyes on me, but when I turned around, no one was watching. Probably just my nerves.
At a flower stand, the rich red of roses caught my eye, their petals like drops of blood against the dull day. I reached out, thinking maybe a few flowers would cheer Cayla up.
But before I could grab one, a hand reached past mine, plucking the bouquet out of the stall keeper's hands. I looked up, half-irritated, and there he was: Demetri. Dark, deadly, and annoyingly smug, holding the roses as if he'd always owned them.
"These," he said smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at me, "are for the beautiful lady."
The elderly stall keeper's eyes flickered between us, eyebrows raised in a way that practically screamed she wanted to know more. She took his money without a word, wrapping the roses with a grace and speed that suggested she didn't often get brooding customers dressed in all black.
"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" I muttered, crossing my arms.
He held the bouquet out toward me, a faint, unreadable smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Think of it as a sign of…interest."
I raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Interest?" I echoed. "Interest in what?"
"An excellent question," he replied, that same dark glint in his eyes.
I let out an exaggerated sigh, still not reaching for the roses. "If this is how you plan to get into my good graces, you'll need more than a few flowers. Or are we pretending you didn't try to follow me like a ghost last night?"
Demetri's expression didn't change. "I don't deal in pretence. And as for last night, I was ensuring you were safe. If I were a ghost," he added, leaning slightly closer, "you'd never know I was there."
His gaze was both intense and unsettling, the way a predator watches prey. I leaned back, my mouth twisting into a smirk.
"I don't need your protection," I said, my voice low but firm. "And I certainly don't need your roses."
Demetri's smile widened, revealing a flash of white, dangerous teeth. "Perhaps not. But you might need my information."
That caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes, studying his face for any sign of deception. "What kind of information?"
"Now now, I don't play all my cards at once," he wags his finger at me.
"A man of mystery is the least sexy thing in the whole world," I snatch the roses from his hands, "these are coming with me."
A rare laugh escaped him, low and velvety, almost… amused. As I walked on, Demetri matched my pace, and together we navigated the winding market.
After a silence that lasted only a few minutes but felt like hours, he broke it with a casual, "What's your connection to the Cullens?" His voice was light, but I knew better. I could feel the weight behind the question.
I gave him a sideways glance, a bitter smile playing at my lips. "Are you always this direct, or do I just bring out the best in you?"
"Answering a question with a question," he murmured, his gaze piercing. "Impressive."
I shrugged, shifting the roses to my other hand. "You don't answer my questions, so why should I answer yours?"
He chuckled softly. "Curiosity is all."
"Curiosity is a dangerous thing," I shot back, daring him with a look. "Or are you only curious about the Cullens because you're worried they might complicate things for your, let's say, 'less-than-noble' line of work?"
The easygoing glint in his eyes faltered for a moment, replaced by something harder. "Our world isn't as simple as yours. Sometimes, things that seem unthinkable are necessary."
"Oh, please." I waved a hand dismissively. "I'd rather have tea with Ted Bundy than spend time with you and your creepy cape-wearing friends. At least with Bundy, I'd know where I stand."
His eyes narrowed, a hint of challenge in them. "That's quite the comparison."
"Yeah, well," I said, lifting the roses slightly, "Bundy wouldn't hand out roses to cover up his intentions."
Demetri tilted his head, letting out a short laugh. "If it comforts you, I could kill you faster than he would have. And," he added, a flicker of amusement passing over his face, "without even breaking a sweat."
I arched an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you just charming." I replied dryly.
He looked surprised for half a second before a smirk curved his mouth. "Charming? Is that what you're looking for?" He leaned in slightly, his dark eyes glinting with that unnerving interest. "I can be charming."
I scoffed. "Charm? I meant real charm. Not 'I'm-dangerous-and-you-should-be-scared' charm."
For a moment, he seemed genuinely amused, though the darkness never left his gaze. We continued down the row of stalls, my hand still clutching the roses he'd given me.
Up ahead, a bread stall caught my eye. The vendor was handing out pieces of warm, crusty bread as samples, and I couldn't resist grabbing one. I took a bite, the bread soft and airy. I glanced at Demetri, who was watching with mild intrigue.
I held out the piece of bread. "I'd offer you some, but I don't think they come in a bloody rare option."
He let out a genuine laugh, surprising me. "Fair point," he said.
"I'm glad you're entertained," I muttered, shooting him an eye-roll. But something about the way he looked at me left me wondering what his game really was. This whole 'curiosity' excuse was wearing thin.
Demetri finally broke the silence. "Tell me," he asked, his voice smooth and dark, "what do people in your generation do for courtship these days?"
I grinned, feeling a streak of mischief rise up. "Well, I've got a three-date rule. And for most, glory holes are a big hit."
The look of confusion and slight horror on his face was priceless. "Glory…holes?"
I burst out into laughter, unable to contain the free flowing sound. My sides squeeze at the sight of his expression.
I choked out, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "You should've seen your face."
Demetri's frown deepened, but there was a glimmer of something almost like reluctant amusement behind it. I took a deep breath to steady myself, still grinning as I continued, "I'm kidding. Mostly. These days, we date without chaperones because, you know, scandal. And women have rights now, so we don't even need a dowry anymore."
He raised an eyebrow, his expression slowly returning to its usual calm, though there was a hint of confusion lingering in his eyes. "Fascinating," he muttered, almost to himself.
I grinned, shaking my head. "Welcome to the twenty-first century. We're even allowed to be educated now," I said, feeling a strange sense of triumph at having rattled him even slightly.
Demetri tilted his head, his curiosity deepening. "And what is it," he asked, his voice still carrying that smooth, almost formal tone, "that you wish to be educated on?"
For a moment, the teasing in my demeanour faded, and I found myself answering honestly. "I want to be a doctor," I said, meeting his gaze. "Like my dad."
His eyes flickered with something—maybe surprise, or perhaps something akin to respect. "A noble pursuit," he murmured, his tone less mocking than before. "And a challenging one."
I nodded, feeling a rare seriousness settle between us. "Yeah, but it's what I want," I replied softly. "To help people, to make a difference. It's… important."
Demetri didn't respond immediately, but I could tell he was weighing my words, considering them in that calculating way he seemed to analyse everything. I half-expected him to make some snarky remark, but instead, he simply inclined his head, almost as if acknowledging a goal worth striving for.
I glanced away from Demetri for a moment, almost lost in a memory. "You know, once I dislocated my arm while riding a bike," I said, a slight grin tugging at my lips. "I put it back in place before anyone could even react. Hurt like hell, but hey, I did it."
Demetri's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, clearly intrigued. "You relocated your own arm?" he asked, sounding more impressed than I expected.
"Yep," I replied, feeling a bit of pride sneak into my voice. "And I got grounded that day. For riding my bike without asking permission."
A faint smirk appeared on Demetri's face, almost as if he couldn't quite comprehend the logic of it all. "I take it your family wasn't pleased?"
"Nope," I said, shaking my head with a chuckle. "They were not. Apparently, I wasn't supposed to be riding around after dark, but nobody told me that dislocating my arm was off the table."
Demetri laughed softly, the sound surprisingly genuine. "You'll make a terrific doctor. Your sense of humour will make those who are sick feel at ease," he remarked, an amused glint in his eyes.
I couldn't help but nod, feeling a bit of warmth at his unexpected compliment. "That's the plan," I replied, offering a half-smile.
"You know the sacred rule of the Volturi is humans aren't supposed to know about us. You're lucky Aro has been keen to keep the peace," he looks at me.
"I didn't know for a long time," I say, "they sat me down when I was like ten. Explained how I can't say a word to anyone otherwise they'd be taken away. I've already lost a family. I'm not prepared to lose another."
"What about the blood? Surely that was a challenge for the members of that coven - despite their diet," he sounds at odds when he speaks of their feeding habits.
"That's also why I was grounded from the bike. I wasn't allowed to do anything that could potentially hurt me. Of course there were cases of it happening but usually my siblings kept control," I shurg, "it was as normal as any other childhood. I had chores, did my homework, got visits from Santa. My parents wanted the best for me."
Demetri's expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and something almost like concern crossing his face. "And yet, here you are, willingly associating with vampires because of the way they've desensitised you. Doesn't that seem... unwise?"
I shrugged, twirling one of the roses between my fingers. "Maybe. But I've never been one for playing it safe. Besides," I added, giving him a pointed look, "I didn't exactly seek you out."
He chuckled, a low, velvety sound. "Fair enough. But you haven't run away screaming either."
"Would it make a difference if I did?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
His smile turned predatory. "Probably not."
He paused for a moment, his expression growing more contemplative. "And your friend? Is she all right?"
The shift in his tone caught me slightly off guard. I hesitated for a second before answering. "She's okay," I said quietly. "Someone spiked her drink. I'm just glad I noticed before… well, before whoever did it got to her."
Demetri's eyes darkened, and he seemed to mull over my words. "Humans," he murmured, his voice laced with disdain, "are horrible to one another."
I couldn't help but scoff. "You're not exactly an angel yourself, Demetri," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn't flinch at the accusation, but there was something thoughtful in his gaze as he regarded me. "Maybe I'm tired of all of that," he admitted softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than to me.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say. His words hung in the air between us, unexpectedly heavy. It felt like there was a deeper truth lurking beneath them, something I wasn't sure if I wanted to understand or just let pass by.
