Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Kaisaan, Dec 3, 2014.

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  1. He'd thought nothing of the feeling at first. It was only a restless sensation, the same kind of desire that came over him when he needed a good run or a hunt. It made his body almost itch with the need to shift and his gums ache. It kept him tossing in bed until he couldn't stand it any longer and threw the covers back, rising. It took little time to dress in jeans and a black shirt, throwing a hoodie on and shoes soon after. Grabbing his house keys and the gun resting on the counter, both went into clothes - the keys into the pocket of the hoodie and the gun in the waistband of his jeans, resting reassuringly against his lower back and covered by his jacket.

    Taking the stairs from his apartment down to the street, gray-green eyes flashed in a luminescent glow for a moment as they caught the light overhead from the half-moon. A quick scan told the male that there was no threat present and he moved out on to the street and across to the next sidewalk. His breath clouded before his face, Autumn having officially come to the city. The cold didn't bother Warren, though, as he rather enjoyed the transition from high Summer to early Winter.

    Still, the cold meant longer nights and shorter days; the perfect combination for more Vampire activity. They were creatures who didn't mind the cold either and in fact loved it. Winter meant they had far more time to move about. Summer was their bane.

    Well aware of the Vampiric hubs in this city, Warren was not oblivious to the fact that he'd entered their territory about fifteen minutes prior. Usually he would have stayed clear, but tonight...tonight something was drawing him. He'd not really been conscious of it until now, but it was true. It was the truth of that knowledge that made him stop very purposely in the middle of the empty sidewalk. It was quiet out, this part of town known more for its druglords, prostitutes, underground nightclubs, gangs and general shady activity. All the life was inside the buildings and underground where the police weren't as likely to find out - and Vampires were safe from the sunlight during the day. It wasn't odd for the streets to seem so empty, for lights to be off and the neighborhood to be dark. It wasn't even strange for the smell of blood to be in the air, but somehow it made Warren uneasy this time around.

    But why?

    He was being drawn here. Did he want that? No. No, he really didn't. He'd stopped contracting with people two years ago for a reason and the last thing he needed was someone his power was trying to bond him to. The last person he'd done that with...had ended up dead. Warren didn't want to do that again. The problem, however, was that he wasn't sure if he had a choice in the matter because as he turned to leave, pain spiked through his head, eliciting a soft snarl from the dark-haired werewolf, his fangs elongating slightly in reaction.

    Damn it!

    Turning back the way he'd been walking, just to test a theory, he winced as the pain died down to a buzz and then faded completely. Warren didn't need to know that if he tried to leave again, the retaliation from his power would be worse. No, there was nothing to do but move forward and it was with grudging, frustrated understanding that Warren did so, coming to the end of an alley without even being able to accurately say how he knew it was the right one. The smell of blood was cloying here, though, and in the distance, under the moonlight, he could see the vague shape of what looked to be a....human?

    The werewolf looked carefully up and down the street and then once more in the alleyway before he looked up at the buildings themselves. Humans never looked up and it was often their downfall. Warren was far wiser and he knew what lurked in the dark. Seeing nothing here as of yet, though, he moved into the alley, gray-green eyes glowing slightly whenever they caught the light, reflecting it as he came closer to the still figure the scent of blood was so strong on.

    It was a girl. No, no, a woman and that red wasn't all blood, but her hair. There WAS blood, though, a lot of it. She wasn't really bleeding anymore, however, and Warren's eyes instantly narrowed, trying to assess if that was because her wounds had simply clotted or if it was because she was dead. But why would his power lead him to someone already dead? No, she lived. His ears could just barely pick out her breathing, his eyes just catch the rise and fall of of her chest, shallow but there. She was alive...but with those bite wounds, bleeding and in this cold....perhaps not for long.

    The werewolf cursed under his breath, knowing what he should do, knowing what the right thing to do was, what the smart thing was; leave her here to die. It was harsh, cruel, yes, but it would be the correct choice. He had no idea who she was, why she'd been attacked by Vampires or if she belonged to one of them and they'd come back for her. The last thing he needed was the bloodsuckers coming after him when his kin were already causing him enough trouble. Leaving her would be wise.

    But he couldn't make himself do it.

    She was so pale, crumpled in a heap upon the dirty cement, her body losing heat rapidly even as she'd lost too much blood to be safe. His power wouldn't let him leave her....and his sense of honor wouldn't let him walk away, not even if he called the police to shut his conscience up. No, this was HIS problem now. She was HIS responsibility. That feeling was so overwhelming that Warren was crouching to pick her up before he could rethink the idea.

    In his arms, she seemed to weigh nothing, but her body was far too cold against his far too warm one. She reeked of Vampire and blood - and something he couldn't quite pinpoint - and the fact set his teeth on edge for reasons the werewolf couldn't explain. What he did know, however, was that when he turned to head back to his apartment, the sense of urgency that hit wasn't false and his feet found speed against the asphalt as he carried his surprise patient through the night.
    #1 Kaisaan, Dec 3, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 3, 2014
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  2. Eve was trapped and constrained against her will. The metal bands dug into her skin, impossible to break. Needles were poked into her, draining her and injecting something else in its place. Faces surrounded her, men in white coats grinning with pleasure or staring with intrigue. Fear froze her heart as they drew closer with knives, fangs glinting in the light. She screamed, but no sound came out. Again and again she tried. But her voice was gone. The knives dug into her skin, carving their way through the soft flesh. It was hopeless.

    Her eyes snapped open, the images vanishing. Blinking, the images of her nightmare flashed before her as they remained in the forefront of her mind. Lifting a hand, she rubbed at her eyes. How long ago had it been since her last nightmare? She had thought things were getting better. That somehow she could move on from it all. Pretend to be normal. Lowering her hands, she stared up at the ceiling, confusion apparent upon her face. Green eyes traced the edge of the ceiling, scanning the walls.

    This was not her room. Nor could she recall it being any of her friends' rooms. The place was foreign to her – and fear rushed its way through her. Gathering as much strength as possible, she pulled herself up and swung her feet off the bed. Her movements were sluggish. Her skin prickled in certain spots. She felt as if someone had dropped and anvil on her chest. Above all else, she couldn’t remember anything from the night before. All of these were classic signs and symptoms that she had not felt in some time. She had stood at Death’s door and he had once denied her access and the promise of eternal rest. Instead, he had kicked her off of his porch.

    Eve swore under her breath as she brushed her red hair out of her face and tried to stand. She stumbled into the wall where she stood as she looked for escape routes. Desperately she ran through what she did remember. It had started off as any other day – busy and hectic. She could remember burning her hand on the oven again. That happened more often than she liked. Then there was that party for Ashley. That’s right. She had left the club early – hoping to get home for at least a few hours of sleep before work. But then what?

    Well whatever it was, it didn’t matter. First off, she had to get out of this place. And then she could worry about whether she needed to relocate to another city.
    #2 Jealous, Dec 4, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2014
  3. Warren had arrived back at his apartment a great deal faster than it had taken him to get to the alleyway, but his pace had been vastly different going from one place to the other, too. He'd been careful to keep his eyes and other senses open for watchers, followers, for pursuit, but none had presented itself as far as he could tell and the werewolf had entered his apartment complex with relative surety that no one had seen him with the bleeding woman in his arms.

    Said bleeding woman had been placed on his table as soon as he'd gotten into the apartment. The flat surface had provided a far better examination surface and he proceeded to do just that. Along with the obvious bite marks on her neck, she was bruised and scraped in various areas, but the damage didn't look too bad. She was in good shape otherwise, not malnourished or obviously abused like many Vampire slaves were. It was likely she wasn't one at all - but then why would the Vampires have left her lying in an alleyway? That was sloppy of them...unless they were newly turned. It didn't happen often as many people died from a turning, but sometimes it did succeed and the new Vampires were ravenous AND didn't know all the rules for keeping hidden from humans.

    But no, that didn't make sense either. New Vampires would have torn this woman to shreds in their hunger and they would have completely drained her. These bites were too neat to be from a new Vampire. But that brought him around full-circle to WHY the woman had been left where she was for any human to find and report.

    The redhead was a mystery before she'd even woken.

    Cleaning and bandaging her wounds had been easy for Warren - perhaps too easy as he was more used to doing it on himself - and he'd taken her dirtied clothes from her, dressing her instead in a pair of his own sweats and a large shirt. Yes, if she woke she'd likely not like the fact that he'd seen her in her underwear, but it was that or let her rest in blood-encrusted clothes. The decision was rather easy and the werewolf put her in his bed carefully, worried gray-green eyes taking in her pale expression, debating whether he should try and get some liquids into her. But no, she'd not moved for anything or even showed signs of waking when he'd applied alcohol to her wounds or cleaned her up. If he tried to get some water down her, she might choke and aspirate without showing any sign she was doing so until it was too late.

    No, in the end he left her as she was and instead moved back into the kitchen to clean up the mess left there. If she did wake, it wouldn't be beneficial for her to see the blood she'd lost. The human was likely to be traumatized by what had happened anyway....if she didn't suppress it altogether.

    He had just pulled on a new shirt fished from the clean-clothes basket when the sound of an escalated breathing pattern and heartbeat reached his keen ears. It would seem the woman was awake - and clearly scared. Warren could not hold that against her, however, and for a moment he almost let the overwhelming desire to surge forward and go to her, to reassure her that everything was fine take control of him. He stopped the instinct just in time, cautioning himself to patience. To go right toward her would only scare her more. She didn't know him and would likely think he was going to attack her - or worse - if he just suddenly appeared. No, better to let her come out here and see him. She'd still be scared, but perhaps not so panicked that way.

    Letting her know he was here would be a good step, though.

    "You are safe here. If you would like to come out, I will explain to you where you are." His voice was soothing and deep, not threatening or demanding. Now it was her choice on what to do.
    #3 Kaisaan, Dec 4, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2014
  4. She moved towards the window, glancing out at the world beyond. It wasn't a part of the city that she recognized - no where near to her home. But at least she was in the city. At least there was the window. It was a way to escape if there was no other option. Of course, there was the door - which possibly would be easier. However it was obvious that her body had just recovered. Jumping out a window was not the smartest thing to do. Someone could see here. Someone would find her. There was no good way out of this.

    Surprised by the voice, Eve took in a quick breath of air. The words had been of reassurance. But how many times had people told her she was safe when she really wasn't? It was easy to lie.

    Glancing down at her outfit, she tried to calm her emotions. She had no idea what the situation was. She didn't know where she was. And she couldn't remember what had put her in this situation. Yet, she was in clothes that were clean of blood. A definitely too big for her, but an indicator of what type of person may have just spoken. Not only that, but her wounds - or probably what used to be her wounds - were wrapped. If this person meant her harm, treating her wounds seemed like a strange thing to do.

    Cautiously she moved towards the doorway into the next room. Hesitantly she leaned against the door frame, peaking out to see the man who stood in the kitchen. Something seemed different about the man that stood before her. She couldn't place it. Perhaps it was his eyes. Or maybe it was just that perhaps a part of her had expected to find someone a bit more sinister.

    "Who are you?" Eve asked as she kept her distance. "How long have I been here?"
  5. Warren knew her choice even as she made it, hearing her rapidly beating heart slow just slightly, a clear indicator of a decision made. And then her feet moved toward the door and he smiled just slightly. Good girl. She really shouldn't have been up and about with as much blood as she'd lost, but at least she was making wiser choices than trying to get out the window in her condition. The werewolf would try and not give her reason to regret coming out of the room. He'd dealt with many a skittish pup in his life, though. He knew how to not alarm those who didn't trust easily.

    It took one to know one, right?

    In this case it didn't seem he had a choice anyway. The instinct within him, something distinctly different from the intelligent, thought-processing, speaking part of his mind - it was as if his brain was literal split in half between two completely opposite ways of dealing with the world - was already demanding the strangest things. Things like going over and helping remove the odor of Vampire by pulling her close until she...well, smelled like him. The inner wolf within him was mildly satisfied that his clothes on her body were already helping with that, but still, the urge was....odd. And he highly doubted it would be appreciated by the woman herself.

    No, Warren made himself stay put and when her head finally peeked out from the bedroom, he leaned against the island counter in the kitchen, arms crossed loosely over a toned chest just slightly visible where his shirt rested against his skin. He wore no shoes or socks, his jeans brushing the ground and his dark hair brushed gray-green eyes that seemed to catch any light aimed at them, bouncing it back even in the brightness of the bulbs overhead. His head tilted at the woman's requests, a very wolf-like gesture of question and curiosity even as he smiled just a little in a truly comforting manner, no malice in his expression. It was like the way a beloved dog might make you feel - safe, warm, cared for - though with Warren there was an underlining touch of something much more....dangerous, aggressive - as if that beloved dog would just as soon tear the face off of someone that posed a threat as the animal would cuddle close to you at night.

    "My name is Warren. This is my apartment and you've been here about an hour, maybe an hour and a half." He moved then, but it wasn't toward the scared woman, rather to the sunken living room where a brown couch, recliner and love-seat resided around a cherry-wood coffee table. There was a piano in one corner of the huge, sprawling apartment, abstract paintings decorated the walls and one wall was actually floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The colors of the living room were dark greens, blues, a rust kind of color and browns. The kitchen was black, golds and reds and just as well-kept as the rest of the place. A hallway led to a bathroom and guest bedroom. Warren wasn't even sure why he'd put the woman in HIS bedroom now that he thought about it, but that was hardly something to think deeply about just now.

    Rather he spoke once more to the woman as he sat down and gently gestured that she was free to take the love-seat across from him if she wanted. He wasn't going to make her, though, she looked like she needed to sit down. She was much too pale and unstable, and he could smell her weariness past the tinge of fear that was so strong in his nose it made him want to gag. And whimper. He had to swallow that sound, wondering at it.

    "I found you injured and collapsed in an alleyway." Gray-green eyes met green then and for a moment Warren had the distinct impression that he was in a forest, safe and secure, that he was home before he mentally shook it away and continued along his train of thought. "I know you have no reason to believe me and that you're scared. I want you to know that you are free to leave whenever you wish and if you desire to call someone or even inform the police that you're here or that you were attacked, I won't stop you. You're not a prisoner here. I merely wanted to help you."

    His head tilted again then, a soft smile appearing. "Might I know your name, little firebrand?"
  6. "No police."

    The response was quick and sharp. An automated response to make it clear that involving the police was not an option. Of course, he had told her that it was her decision. He hadn't suggested to call the police for her. But the idea of involving the police frightened her. He probably thought her insane, as any normal person would have probably chosen to go to the police to report the attack.

    Eve glanced at the door as the option of escape was opened to her. She was not a prisoner. That was reassuring. But there were too many variables to everything. He had found her in an alleyway collapsed. By the bandages it was more than collapsed. By the weight on her heart she had touched death. So how much blood had been left within the alleyway? Closing her eyes, she tried to recall that memory once more. As her body worked to putting it together, her memories were becoming a bit clearer. She had fought against an attacker. And while no images came to mind, the feelings that the situation was not normal were abundant. Of concern was also how much had her wounds healed by the time he had run across her? All these questions made her head spin.

    "My name is Eve," she answered before made her way to the door.

    Her hand hovered over the door handle before she turned back towards the living room. There was a possibility that Warren could still help her as he possessed the knowledge to a few of these questions. Besides, the way she was feeling, there was no telling if her body would give out on her - attempting to restart one more time to refresh everything. Leaving the door, she moved towards the love-seat that he gestured to earlier. Curling her legs beneath her, she sat down while keeping her gaze on him.

    Biting at her bottom lip, she debated on what to ask him first. There was much to ask. But if she phrased something wrong, he'd become suspicious. Perhaps he always was suspicious due to her earlier demand. "If you found me unconscious in an alleyway, why did you bring me here? You could have just taken me to a hospital. I assume I was bleeding quite a bit when you found me?" Was there someone out there analyzing her blood right now, matching her DNA to her record. Was someone already scanning all of the hospitals for a girl who was miraculously healing? "I mean, it's not like I don't appreciate what you've done. I'd rather be here than a hospital but I can't understand your actions."
  7. No police.

    So she wasn't quite the innocent victim then. She had knowledge of some sort, perhaps a small understanding of the mythical world or merely a history with the police. Either way, she had a past, something she was running from and law enforcement would only complicate it, that Warren could guess at easily, but he said nothing. He merely nodded, making no move to push the woman into revealing her reasons, nor making any physical move toward his cellphone on the small table by the arm of the couch. He'd offered to let HER call. He'd never mentioned doing it himself and this changed nothing.

    The werewolf watched her - Eve's - body language carefully, the inclination to do so natural for two distinct reasons. The first being that he was a wolf. Body language was one of the key factors in communication among his kind, including smell, touch and sound. Speech was the least likely route he'd take to communicate if he could have his way, but the unfortunate truth was that even among Mythicals, the preferred method of 'speech' was done by mouth, with words. His kind were among the minority who used 'speech' in a different way.

    So yes, gray-green observed Eve with the mind-set of a wolf, noting her fear, uncertainty, but also her lack of panic. She'd been in this kind of situation before. It was easy to understand such a fact. She wasn't asking what had happened to her or who had done it. She wasn't trying to investigate her wounds, wasn't being over-emotional. No, she wasn't startled by this, rather calm about it, really, and Warren knew that This woman was growing more and more interesting by the moment and the werewolf smiled just slightly to himself as he saw her turn away from the door...just as he sensed she would. Eve was too weak to go far - he could smell that about her easily enough, see it even more clearly - and she showed wisdom in recognizing it, too. Her questions showed an even smarter mind and the werewolf didn't answer for a long moment, gray-green eyes locked with her green, his own gaze thoughtful before he answered.

    The second reason he observed her so closely was for his own curiosity. His power had drawn him to her - that meant she was in need of a protector, a Guardian, that she was special somehow. How could that be unless she was part of the shadow world of the Mythicals? Either she was one and he'd simply not picked up on it - though, she SMELLED human - or she knew about them perhaps and it had put her in danger. Either way, he wasn't going to be untruthful to her. Lies never got anyone anywhere - not in the long run.

    "You'd bled quite a lot, yes, but you were no longer bleeding so actively. The cold might have slowed the process." Warren left his eyes on Eve for a moment longer before relinquishing his intensity and looking away again, knowing very well the cold wouldn't have slowed the blood that much. Again, he said nothing of it, knowing better than to do so at this time.

    "I brought you here because the method in which you were attacked would have raised questions better not asked. I don't know what you can remember about what happened, but just from what I saw I know it wasn't...natural." His hand moved then to brush his dark hair back from his eyes and Warren gave the redhead a side glance. "I simply didn't want to make a bad situation more complicated than it had to be. That didn't seem fair to do to you and I knew well enough how to care for your wounds." His gray-green eyes narrowed just slightly then, concern swimming across his expression. "You shouldn't be up right now, you know. You've lost a lot of blood. You need liquids and sleep."
    #7 Kaisaan, Dec 5, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 9, 2014
  8. She shifted her head to the side as he suggested that the cold was perhaps responsible for the lack of blood. But she stopped before it shook back into the other direction as an obvious "no". If she had bled a lot - but enough time to start healing when he arrived - had anyone else happened to see her dead body. Perhaps they had. Perhaps someone had stumbled across a dead body but had decided to not get involved. However, would they go the police? Would they come forth as a witness if questions were being asked. Still the memory of the attack remained evasive, preventing her to have the entire puzzle put together.

    All her ideas were hypothetical. And Eve wanted to be optimistic. Perhaps no one cared. And in a few hours, she'd be able to go back to her normal life and avoid the club scene for a while. She'd have to apologize to her coworkers when she returned to work. After all, there was no way she was going to be able to get to work when she wanted to. And it wouldn't be safe to bake in her state anyways. With her brain in the state of mashed potatoes, she would probably harm herself at work and... she was worrying too much.

    Pulling her mind back to the present, she tried to concentrate on his words. She had asked for an explanation, and he was giving it to her. He was honest, but his response was vague. Was he implying that something wasn't natural with her? No, he seemed to be implying that it was something about the attack. That feeling returned to her, a reasurrance that something different had happened last night. She had been attacked, but it did not seem to be a regular mugging or someone thirsting for violence. There was something else. An image of white teeth flashed in her mind - but the monstrous image mixed with memories of the past and the grins of the scientists from her nightmares. She winced as she closed her eyes and rubbed at them trying to cast the monsters back into the recess of her mind.

    "Food sounds wonderful. But I doubt I'll be able to sleep peacefully. My mind's moving a mile a minute trying to piece this all together. And if I manage to not move around too much, I should be fine. Hope you don't mind if I stay for just a bit longer. I'll be out of your hair in a hour or so if all goes well." She didn't want to be a burden. The man had found her taken her in. He seemed honest - maybe a bit too honest and kind. And a bit strange that he wasn't questioning her a bit more. Most people would have probably been knocked out for a bit more. Most people probably wouldn't estimate that they'd be better in a few hours. But so far, he didn't ask her too many questions. He was being sensitive to her well-being, an action that warmed her heart. How many others had offered her such kindness when she was in peril.

    Eve moved, shifting so that she could reach into the pocket of her pants. But as she did so, she remembered that she was not wearing her own clothes. Above all, taht meant that she didn't have her own belongings on her. "Damn. Do you happen to have my wallet, or phone nearby?"
  9. Hearing that Eve thought she'd be leaving in an hour or so had Warren's brow rising beneath his dark, shaggy hair. Did she now? Well, it was typical of humans to think they were far more invincible than they were, but he'd say nothing as of yet. They'd see how she progressed as time went by. Hearing she was interested in food, the werewolf smiled a bit and stood from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. There was an ethereal grace in the way he moved, something like a wild creature and Warren hardly noted it. Oh, he should have been more aware, should have added some human 'weight' to his movements instead of walking like he was gliding, like any wolf would, but in his own home....he simply didn't think about it.

    And with almost seemed to be something he shouldn't have to think about, strange as that was.

    Turning his head slightly, about to ask how soup sounded to her, Warren paused instead at the redhead's question. His head tilted just slightly as if he were trying to figure out her reasons for wanting such things, but it only lasted a moment before he reached over to the counter and grabbed said items, coming back to Eve. Warren didn't get too close to her, his green-gray eyes focused on every movement she made, no matter how subtle and his nose on alert to any change in scent; like fear. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel unsafe. So he kept some distance and simply put the wallet and phone on the coffee table.

    "You have blood on your clothes. I put them to wash. I didn't look through anything."

    A human would have. Perhaps they would have done it to figure out who she was, to contact her family and the like, but Warren hadn't done so. He hadn't even thought about it and he knew now that such would look suspicious on his part, but the truth of the matter was that he'd not had any thought of giving her over into another's care. And her name....well, when she woke, she would give it to him and she had. No, his actions weren't 'human', but Warren wasn't human.

    Leaving her to what she desired to do with what he'd given back to her, Warren moved to the kitchen again and quickly prepared what he needed. It was nothing fancy; just can of soup opened and placed in a pot over the burner and some baked bread brought down from a cupboard in preparation for when the soup was done. Having done that, Warren poured a glass of juice and came back into the living room on soundless feet. Placing the drink on the coffee table, he once more took a seat on the couch across from the redhead.

    "You should drink. Your body needs it." Gray-green eyes met her green then and Warren studied her for a moment with a searching gaze. He wasn't quite sure he'd found what he was looking for when he spoke, but that was all right. He'd not expected to truly find it yet, though, it certainly would have given him some clarity as to why his power was so adamant about Eve. It would tell him why, out of all the people around him, it had chosen her.

    "You are welcome to stay as long as you need, Eve."
  10. Reaching forward, Eve swiped the items off the coffee table. Opening the wallet to inspect what was left inside. To her surprise it looked untouched. Her ID card was tucked safely inside paired with money and receipts. Placing it back on the table for the moment she hit the power button on her phone. The item lit up and flashed with unread text messages and missed calls as the battery symbol in the corner shifted to red.

    She had expected the items to be long gone. Perhaps the existence of the items was an answer to one of her many questions. There were some people who may have come across the corpse - taking what was left behind. It calmed her nerves a bit to have her possessions back. They were small things, but she used her phone to keep in touch with so many people. And a wallet meant that her ID was probably still safe. That was good.

    The only unsettling thing was that it confirmed that her attacker had not been interested in worldly goods. Her personal belongings did not matter to them. But she already knew that. Her hand lifted to her neck, resting upon the bandages that were there.

    Unlocking the phone, Eve quickly sent out a few messages. The first consist of apologies and reassurances that all was fine. The excuse that she had forgotten to un-silence her phone would be a good enough to please most of the people who had tried to get a hold of her. The other messages consisted of trying to get someone to cover her shift for work. For now maybe she could relax. All her plans had gone up in smoke. But she could pull it all together. She lifted her gaze and set her phone on her lap as Warren placed a glass upon the table.

    Reaching for the glass, she lifted it to her lips took a deep breath, and then took a sip. The juice soothed her dry throat. "Thank you."

    Her eyes remained on Warren as she took another sip. The way he moved, the way he studied he, there was something about him. "You know. You are very unlike anyone I have ever met. There's something different about you."
  11. The fact that she didn't deny the drink was encouraging. She didn't suspect poison or a drug - or she was far too innocent to think about such things. That, however, didn't seem as likely. It didn't line up with the rest of her behavior. She was far too alert, far too wary and certainly too watchful of everything he did for her to be that naive. So perhaps...she simply trusted that he wouldn't slip anything into her drink.

    Then again, she could just be too tired and her mind too frazzle to truly remember to check such a thing. There really would be no way of finding out unless he asked and that was hardly something he was going to do. He wanted her to feel safe here, not scared.

    As it was, she proved her intelligence and awareness of her environment - and him especially - once more when she spoke. Her words elicited a chuckle in the werewolf and he tilted his head in a very canine-like manner of question, green-gray eyes both slightly narrowed and yet glittering with mirth...and secret. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing, little firebrand?"

    Oh, how right she was! Far more than she could ever know. Or did she already? It was very hard to tell with this one and she certainly intrigued Warren - and that was without his power's influence.
  12. "I'm trying to figure that out," Eve answered as she tilted her head. She had begun to calm down, far more than she probably should have. This man was a stranger after all. But she had chosen to stay. She had accepted the drink without much of a question. Maybe it was the fact that his honesty won her trust. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to accept her strange behavior and had seemingly not riffled through her belongs.

    But as she had considered before, that was not quite the case. Perhaps it was the fact that he did not seem normal. The way he moved was smooth and elegant. That way he laughed or that glint in his eyes. It was a promise that he was something far more than he appeared.

    "Part of me says I should trust you." But the other half, that half wanted her to go far away. While he was kind, there was something dangerous about him.

    Her finger traced the edge of the glass before she lifted it to her lips once more. The more she consumed, the better she felt. She rolled her shoulder, as one of her wounds began to itch. With a free hand she tried to shift the bandages that were there. She wasn't used to being wrapped up and cared for. And as the healing progressed, the bandages began to feel restricting with that sense that she was wearing something that was absolutely useless. But she had to be patient. While she decided to rip the things off and survey the last evidence of the damage done - she'd have to be patient.

    "And just a bit ago, you said that what happened to me wasn't natural. What did you see that made you think that?"
  13. Her answer only made Warren smile, neither confirming that she should trust him or warning that she shouldn't. His expression wasn't malicious, though, nor was it smug or sure of himself. It was simply amused and frankly, a bit mischievous. Normally he would not have been encouraging speculation from a human, but....just as Eve sensed something 'off' about him, he sensed he same thing about her. She was different somehow, but in what way...he couldn't pinpoint yet. He thought her human, but....there was a chance she just might be a type of mythical he'd not yet come across and therefore did not know the scent of. There were those of of the underground that smelled very much human - like vampires, nymphs, phoenixes and Elementals. Though, even those creatures would not completely mimic a human scent. Vampires' scent came up as too metallic, too bloody. Nymphs were too earthy or wet-smelling. Phoenixes too much like ash and smoke. And Elementals usually all of the above - though, less on the blood bit.

    No, there was a unique scent to humans that wasn't easily replicated and Eve, if she was like him, had it down completely. It was only a sixth-sense that told him she wasn't quite what she appeared to be...but why and in what way? He couldn't have said. For all he knew, they were two mythicals tip-toeing around each other when they didn't need to.

    Keen gray-green eyes watched Eve as she messed with her bandages, noting things others would not even think about. Like how freely she was moving. With wounds like she'd had, pain would be very present right now and she should have been being careful how she moved. She should have been in discomfort, and the redhead seemed to be, but not in the right way. She radiated agitation, impatience...not pain. She moved the bandages almost as if to take them off completely and Warren didn't think it was curiosity to see the damage that made her do so...and so carelessly, too.

    As if the wounds didn't hurt if they weren't there at all.

    The werewolf bit his tongue from saying anything just yet. He didn't want to scare her and make her bolt. No, he'd hold his words for now and instead tell her what she wished to know. That seemed like the wiser option considering how jumpy she was, even if she tried to hide it.

    Eve acted like someone who was hiding. Warren could see that easily....if only because he was doing the exact same thing.

    The werewolf raised a brow just slightly at her query, no hesitation in his response, though there was certainly some in his mind. How much to tell her? Not that he KNEW vampires had attacked her. Not that. But.....maybe something to lead her on the right track? Or was that unwise, too? Purposely leading a human into the mythical world was like asking for them to be killed. But....perhaps it was already too late for more ways than one.

    "Well, the first strange thing was that you'd not been raped. It's common for women who are attacked to suffer such. That your belongings were untouched was another point to the strange factor and last, but certainly not least, those bite marks on your neck don't seem like a typical attack method."
  14. She wanted to laugh. It would have been simple to shrug off the idea that had appeared. Unnatural - bite marks - it all sounded like he was describing an attack from something that was of the supernatural. Was he insinuating that he had been attacked by a vampire? Perhaps it was just some freak who was trying to impersonate the supposed creatures of the night. However, no laughter came as the corners of her lips tugged down into a frown. The imagery was all there. It caused her to shift her hand to her neck once more. It was all impossible, the idea absolutely absurd.

    Yet the idea lingered. Desperately it held on. Waiting as if it was the last piece of the puzzle which she needed. She need only acknowledge it. The black fog over her memory vanished at the plausibility of being attacked by something that was not quite human.

    The clubs had been so inviting. The incident at work mixed with the stress of trying to leave behind as little identification footprint as possible had left her with a burden of stress. Ashley's party had been a easy fix to all of it. A chance to free her mind and enjoy some good company. It had done its job, the sounds and the alcohol able to erase the present. But the relief had lasted for just a short amount of time. For the past had come when she had been examining the crowd of strangers. Among them, she had spotted a face she had hoped to never see again. Only in hindsight was she able to identify that it had all been her imagination. Or that's what she hoped.

    Still, the fear had driven her from the club. The excuse of making it home early enough to head to work the next day was just a simple excuse. She had been so worried about the face in the crowd - lost in her thoughts and memories. No wonder she had been attacked. She had been such easy pickings. But she had fought back. She could feel her skin being ripped open - teeth tearing at her skin as she tried to pull loose. Yet the thing that had looked like a man was so much more powerful. The last thing she could remember was the creature's red eyes as it feasted upon her flesh.

    The memory chilled her, her fingers tangled in her hair. The feeling of her blood being drained from her body lingered even as she shifted upon the couch to try to bring herself out of the recollection. Yet, she couldn't admit it was true. The world didn't involve supernatural creatures. Of course, she herself wasn't normal - but that was explained by science... kind of. The idea of vampires just didn't fit.

    "It's crazy. The idea that it was something unnatural is crazy," she retorted as if speaking the worlds aloud would overcome the truth. Her fingers tangled in her hair. But those glowing red eyes would haunt her dreams - as if she didn't already have enough material fuel her night terrors. "Whoever, or whatever, attacked me... if they know I'm alive, would they come back to try and finish the job?"

    Eve looked to Warren, as if he might have some answer to her inquiry. It occurred to her that perhaps he knew it was really a vampire. Which is why he had not taken her to the hospital. Which was why he didn't seem normal. Perhaps he himself was somehow not normal. And the world she knew was in fact far larger than she had ever imagined.
  15. Whatever.

    She'd said the word, despite herself it seemed as she'd been denying it a moment before, and Warren's green-gray eyes narrowed just slightly, a smile curling at his lips, a subtle expression as it became very clear to him that his assumption had been correct; she didn't know of the mythical world...but she was smart enough to figure it out if given the tools. And unfortunately, she'd need them because she'd already hit the nail on the head with her question - something the werewolf was rather impressed with. She'd picked up the presence of danger rather quickly....but then again, she seemed to understand danger rather well, seemed familiar with it. Eve certainly didn't seem at all distraught about the fact that she'd been attacked at all - perhaps giving testament to the fact that this wasn't the first time it had happened.

    Now, that would make more sense as to why his power was drawing him to her.

    Her question didn't bring hesitation or pause on his part. Oh, he knew it should have. If he was going to convince her that he was simply a good Samaritan, that he was human and simply wanting to help her, he would do well to make an effort to not know the answer to her question, to be just as puzzled as she was. He wasn't trying to do that, though. Something told Warren that they were already beyond that and so he answered, confident in his reply for he knew the information to be true.

    "They would, yes. And they will know soon enough, but seeing as you're not alone now and they will know I helped you, they will be more wary of simply attacking you again."

    The werewolf knew his answer would raise far more questions, but he kept nothing but a calm expression, simply relaxed with the subtle air of a predator secure in its domain. It was true enough. If the vampires smelled werewolf, they'd be far more cautious about hunting their prey - but hunt they would. The elder vampires were not going to be pleased with whoever had attacked a human and then let them life, even accidentally. The rule was that you fed from a willing human or your killed the unwilling ones. No witnesses. No complications.

    The fact that Eve was alive was a threat to them....and the fact that a werewolf had gotten involved with that.....things were going to get very interesting, very quickly. Better Eve have some understanding of the trouble she'd landed herself in before it hit with snarling fangs and flying blood.
  16. If death rejected her, then life had to become hell. Such was the philosophy that fate used to rule her life. There was always something else. Something always had to haunt her footsteps and destroy any future she had planned for. Her grip tightened among the red strands as anger seethed. It was childish to say but her mind cried that it was just so unfair. The injustice of her fate weighted upon her, and she wished to scream and fight. What she wouldn't give to have some tool to change the hand that had been dealt to her. She had never asked to be special to be gifted with a strange ability that had turned her life upside down. There was no way to truly be normal. Definitely not now.

    Eve closed her eyes as scenarios ran through her mind. She could try to run again. Abandon the life she had here and start again. How many lives would she hurt by not even saying good-bye? Of course they'd get over it. Yet, it was possible that someone would try to find her. Which is not what she needed. Perhaps it had been a very bad idea to make a life for herself. There were too many strands that she would leave behind. And where would she be able to flee? She knew nothing of this new world that had opened up before her - if it was all really true. She didn't know the first thing of evading vampires. Were they able to trace her scent? Or did they have other means of hunting their prey?

    Sorrow and hopelessness weaseled their way past the anger. She'd fight back with everything she had, but what was that exactly? What did she have to protect her this time?

    "How do they know that you helped me?" she wondered as her attention turned back to the man who sat before her. Some of the worry died down at the though that the creatures would be wary to simply attack again. Yet, it also didn't make sense. If they had attacked her without a care the night before, a mortal guy wouldn't stop them the second time. But he wasn't normal, and this seemed to be his admission to that fact.

    And what did it truly mean to her if he wasn't human? At the very moment, that almost seemed to be a godsend. Before her was someone who had offered her home, provided her with clean clothes, and a refreshing drink. Not only that, but his saving her was perhaps going to slow the vampires down from their next attack. Of course, if he himself was some supernatural being, he could attack her first. But why go through all that trouble to save someone just to murder them later? Maybe he'd be able to help her, protect her from a world she did not know. Then again, her last hope could be entirely misled.

    "What is it about you that would make them hesitate about coming to kill me again?"
  17. Well, he'd planted the seeds. Was he going to turn back, shy away from the truth, just because she'd come up with the answer faster than he'd expected? Looking at her, blue-gray eyes meeting green, Warren knew he'd tell her. For the life of him, though, he could not figure out why. He didn't know the first thing about her. He knew her first name - Eve - and that she'd been attacked by vampires. He knew she smelled human, but her body didn't behave as a mortal's did - her wounds clotting so quickly was testament to that. He knew she wasn't a stranger to the strangeness that surrounded her and yet she seemed clueless about the nature of such abnormalities if her reaction to the mere hint of vampires was to be trusted. And that was just the problem; he didn't know if she could be trusted. He knew nothing about her.

    But his power wanted her, had drawn him to her and was demanding he protect her.

    In the end, illogical as it sounded and as insane as some might think him for making a decision on such a basis, the werewolf listened to that powerful instinct within him. In all honesty, he didn't have much of a choice about it - to resist and choose the pain and misery said power would reap upon him or to choose to listen and see where this strange woman led him? When put that way...the decision was a bit easier.

    A bit.

    Warren very purposefully relaxed back into the couch, knowing that what he said might create a fearful reaction in Eve and the last thing he wanted was for her to think that he'd attack her. So he kept his body tranquil, not leaning forward or tense as if he'd move at any moment. Hopefully, even on some subconscious level, it would help.

    "The vampires, two of them, that attacked you have a very heightened sense of smell. That sense could help them track you, but it will also tell them that I found you." The werewolf smiled just a little and it might have been a trick of the light, but it almost seemed like his canines were a bit too long, a bit too sharp. The affect was gone a moment later as his lips covered up the evidence quickly enough and Warren sighed, studying Eve closely for a moment.

    Well, in for a penny...

    "They will think very carefully on how much your death is worth to them for the simple fact that I am a werewolf. Our kinds don't exactly get along and by helping you, even though I knew you had been their prey, clearly marks you as....special to me." Now Warren did smile just a little, slightly sheepish really and he gave the smallest of shrugs, equally as self-conscious. "What can I say? Werewolves are known to be possessive."
  18. Did he have fangs? Teeth as sharp as those that had attacked her perhaps? Well, that was a conformation that her thoughts had been in the right direction. He was a vampire. But then again, his teeth seemed normal now. On top of everything, her sight was now playing tricks on her. Perhaps it would best if she just left. With the talk of the supernatural, she couldn't trust her mind. And with at least the juice and a phone, she'd be able to probably call a friend for help. She'd come up with a story to cover up her strange clothes. It could all work out.

    Perhaps that would have been the path she would have taken if he had not elaborated on his answer. Formulating the truth into words and setting into concrete that vampires as well as werewolves accompanied her in this world. The conversation had safely remained under the umbrella of "something unnatural". But that cover was fading away. It was real whether she wanted to admit it or not. At least she could find a tiny bit of reassurance in the fact that Warren was an enemy to the creatures that attacked her. If the tales were true, "don't get along" was probably understating their relationship.

    "So you're a werewolf. So does that mean that every full moon you turn into a beast man and roam the streets? If so, how have you managed to say out of the news?" Eve wondered as she questioned his story.

    Her story had been covered up all those years ago - but that occurred through the use of money and power. And getting mauled to death didn't occur everyday. So avoiding doctors and hospitals was her main concern - which had been relatively easy enough to do. But if something like her attack occurred every month, it would make national news.

    But his claim wasn't the only thing to spark the million questions in her mind. "Special to you?" she echoed. He was a stranger, and yet his words seemed to go beyond that - to suggest something more intimate.

    Lastly, there was one other concern that crept into her mind. If he was suggesting that he would be able to protect her from vampires, it meant that he would have to know her secret. Beyond that, it would involve him in her world beyond what he knew. Which meant if they found her, they would find him. And if he was a werewolf, what fun would they have trying to figure him out? She wasn't going to involve an innocent. "Regardless, you shouldn't involve yourself in my life. Because," she took a shaky breath, "I'm kind of not human. And I'd rather you not sacrifice yourself for my sake."
  19. Well, he really should have expected that question. Still, it made Warren chuckle under his breath. Humans had such a strange tendency to take anything they didn't understand and morph it into the most grotesque, scariest creation they could - as if they purposefully wanted to terrifying themselves. Werewolves were not as they portrayed them to be. Vampires were....closer, but that was only because vampires dangerously walked the line of discovery by humans. They leaked out their nature to humans purposefully, loving the attention it got them, thriving on it. Fame whores.

    The stories and legends around werewolves were far different than the way humans portrayed them.

    Said werewolf didn't answer the question quite yet, though, easily sensing that Eve had more and she didn't disappoint. The fact that she wasn't outright panicking or asking a stream of questions only confirmed for him what he'd thought all along - she wasn't quite normal either and when she outright said it, Warren barely blinked. He merely nodded, a smile dancing about his mouth and his head tilting in a way that was most certainly canine. Perhaps now the female across from him would note it as such, knowing what he was.

    "I'm kind of not human, too, Eve." he pointed out with a slightly raised brow and then ran his fingers back through his dark hair, shorter strands falling back down to brush his eyes as he sat up and forward, placing his arms on his knees and linking his fingers loosely, nothing short of grace in every move, a purely wild quality to his body that he made no effort to hide now that he'd revealed his own secret - and to a stranger no less! What WAS going on here? "I already knew that. It's hardly a surprise. You smell human, completely so, but your body doesn't act it and my other senses tell me there is something different about you." His chin tilted just a bit, indicating her neck. "Those are healed, right? You can take them off if they itch."

    Questions whirled in his mind, in his gray-green eyes, but Warren didn't voice them just yet. She'd asked questions of her own and he'd answer those first. Besides, she didn't seem the type to want to elaborate on what she'd told him. It seemed hard enough for her to admit that much to him and he respected the fact that she'd not had to in the first place.

    "As for your concern; no, I am not going to turn into some wolf-monster on the full moon. That's not how my species is - not unless one of us has gone rabid. The moon gives us more strength than we usually have and it heightens the instincts within us, but it doesn't control our transformations. That we can do at will and most of us don't take half-forms between human and wolf, but rather a full canine form." he explained calmly, knowing very well she might not understand everything, but willing to explain if she asked. Why he was....well, he already knew the answer to that and such a fact was going to make it hard to answer her second question, the one she'd seemed genuinely puzzled about.

    He couldn't blame her. He was rather puzzled by his power's sudden - and aggressive - flare concerning Eve.

    Warren shifted slightly, the only time he'd actually shown some nervousness and for the first time he avoided the green eyes that watched him, appearing almost shy, but more than that, uncertain. "When I said special, what I meant's just that..." He sighed and shook his head, fingers tightening about each other. "I have an...instinct that tells me to....protect you. I...I didn't choose it, or you, but I can't....fight it." He shrugged slightly, finally looking up again with a wry smile.

    "So whether you're safe to be around or not, or whether I am or not, you're stuck with me in one way or another."
  20. What had she expected him to say as a response? Warning him that she wasn't human? Of course that would not impact him in the slightest. It may have been a statement that would have worked on her friends, but for someone who wasn't human himself, the warning had been useless. Perhaps she should have just told him that if he stuck around her, his secret would probably be revealed as well. Then again, did he care about that sort of thing?

    Lifting the almost forgotten glass of juice to her lips, Eve drank what was left. She placed it upon the coffee table as he answered her question about what it meant to be a werewolf. It was reassuring to know that at the full moon he wouldn't become a rabid beast. Her gaze rested on him, trying to imagine the man before her shifting into a wolf at will. On one hand it was difficult to believe, yet on the other it fit him perfectly. She could see a dog, or wolf, making some of the same movements that he made. Her second thought dwelt upon the fact that any picture of a wolf she had ever seen could possibly have been a werewolf in disguise. It also begged to the question of how many other werewolves roomed the city as humans if their transformations were controlled?

    "Do you transform often? And when did you learn you were a werewolf? Were you bitten, or have you just always been one?" her curiosity had grown far more than it should have. Perhaps she was delving more into his past than he would like. Though it seemed useless to try to apologize. They were answers that she needed to know if she was to try to trust this stranger before her.

    While her mind was wrapping around this new news, it tried to comprehend his answer to her other inquiry - elaborating on why her warning had not carried much weight. Eve tried to understand. Dogs were known for their loyalty. As part canine, it would make sense that perhaps he did indeed carry some instinct that would drive him to protect her. Even still it was hard to believe. Something beyond her control, and it sounded like even his, made it so that they were going to be stuck together. It was unsettling, yet it seemed that there was no reason to try to fight fate.

    She sighed in defeat to fate as she moved to remove the bandages that were wrapped around her neck. She slowly unraveled them - careful of any blood or ointment that may be stuck to her newly formed skin. Her fingers brushed over her skin, feeling the small scars that had not had enough time to vanish. "I've probably asked enough questions. It's your turn now."
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