|as sure as night is dark & day is light|

[zooka]

as sure as night is dark& day is light

for manatee & zooka​

 

[manatee]

Bloodlust was something that he would never be able to adjust to. It didn’t happen often, he’d been turned long enough to get himself under control, but when it did hell hath no fury. It didn’t happen with every single human he passed. That would have made living in a town impossible. No, he got to live a normal life and he got to go places and pretend to be a human being. But sometimes, he’d pass a woman on the sidewalk coming home from a friend’s house or he’d pass a man when he was taking his late night jog through the park and their scent would hit his nose and his skin would crawl with hunger and there wasn’t anything there to hold him back. He’d be going in for just a bite and that bite would turn into more and before he knew what was happening he’d be holding the dead body in his arms, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth onto the front of his clothes and theirs as well. At times like those Cohen would carry the body as inconspicuously as he could off into the woods and he’d have to compel a few people to forget that person even existed.

There were so many perks that came with what he was. He was fast, faster than any sort of animal he’d be chasing down in the woods so food was never far off. One of his friends was a witch, and once she had deemed him safe, she had fashioned him a bracelet that he wore every day just so he could walk in the sunlight. There was the compelling, one of the scariest and greatest things that had happened to him since he turned. All he had to do was look someone in the eyes and order them to do something – and they’d do it. It was how he hunted when he craved something more than the usual forest friend’s blood. He’d tell them they wouldn’t scream and that they wouldn’t remember him doing this to them, and he’d get to drink.

Over the years, there had been several decades of them, he had developed a fairly impeccable bout of self control. When he’d first turned he’d had to leave town, running until he didn’t recognize anything surrounding him. It seemed back then that all he had done was kill and kill and kill, and he hadn’t known who to turn to. Before he’d turned he’d been oblivious to just how many people like him had lived in the town he’d grown up in, the town he had deemed safe since he was a small boy. There were dozens of them in the small town, and as he ran he found more and more. He also found help, and people he could trust, and for a lot of years he wandered with a group, learning all of the secrets and the ways to survive in a town full of humans.

Of all the things that he enjoyed the most, he loved the no aging aspect. When he had been freshly twenty he’d been turned, and it was nice to be at that perfect age of just getting in started in life. The bad thing about not aging was after several years in one spot – when it was finally starting to become a home – he had to pick up and leave. For a long time he never planned on going back to his original town, there would be no one left who even remembered him. Besides, he’d been around vampires long enough to know of the negative things too. They were seen as monsters, and certain towns, towns like his, held hunters that wouldn’t ever be able to be picked out from the crowd. There were hunters and other creatures who wanted him dead as well, and returning didn’t seem like the best option. So he wandered, making his way across the country and living and learning. He documented his experiences on his skin, the only thing that wouldn’t fade away or get lost. The ink stood out against the pale color of his skin, lacking flush from the lack of life, and by the time he had been twenty nearly fifty times, he’d covered both of his arms in the colorful designs. And by the time he’d been twenty nearly fifty times he decided that maybe it was time to go home

​

All he could remember was that he was doing what his mother had specifically told him not to do.

He had an easy life. His mother laid out very few rules, and he very seldom followed them with little to no consequences. He was meant to be home before the next morning and that rarely happened. He was meant to keep a steady job since he was done with his schooling and that definitely never happened. It didn’t matter to him that his father was the mayor of the town and he had certain expectations to uphold. That thought alone made him want to rebel even more. Why should he have to work when his father sat around in his office all day drinking whiskey and smoking fat cigars and doing little else? He had a hard time wanting to uphold some sort of stigma that he was better than everyone else when he wasn’t. His mother sat around , clueless and unfazed while his father drank and drank and slept around with the maids. Just because the townspeople expected elegance and superiority from him didn’t mean that they were going to get it.

In fact, more often than not, he gave them the opposite. He could be seen late at night, ducking out of shady alleyway doors, stumbling slightly over the threshold and gripping onto the stone wall for a moment before he continued. It was how that night had went, the night that literally and figuratively changed his life.

Gripping the wall, he was reminded that he had been here before, too many times, and he had always reminded himself never again. The lamps hanging on each corner of the alleyway had been dimmed, and he squinted in the dark, trying to feel his way along the wall. All he needed was to get back on the main street and he’d be able to guide himself home by moonlight and familiar shop signs. Slowing his steps down as his foot caught against the edge of someone’s trash, he gripped tighter onto the wall, muttering a curse under his breath. There was the sound of shuffling behind him, but when he looked over his shoulder nothing was there.

When he turned his head back around there was a girl standing in front of him. She’d been the one at the bar, the one he’d been shamelessly trying to make a move on. She’d ignored him, the satin of her gown brushing against his bare arm as she pushed past him. Before he even had a chance to speak she was turning his gaze on him, smiling and his breath caught in his throat as his the moonlight glinted against her teeth. What was she? It didn’t take long before she was kissing him and it didn’t really matter what she was because he’d been wanting this all night. Her lips moved down against his neck and before he could make any sort of sound of approval he felt her teeth sink into him and blood being spilled and as she sucked harder his knees grew weak and he slumped to the ground.

When he woke up one of his wrists as chained to a wall, and he was so thirsty. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in his entire life, and as he pulled on the chain he realized that he wasn’t alone. The woman from last night was standing in front of him, looking pleasantly amused and before he could speak she was dragging in a body that he vaguely recognized as his father’s mistress into the room and then undoing the bracket against his wrist. It took all of two seconds before he was on the barely conscious woman, teeth sinking into her neck and drinking from her until he could hear her pulse shudder and stop.

Cohen Harraway hadn’t just been turned into a vampire, the woman had turned him into a cold blooded killer.

It had taken him an entire decade to stifle that side of himself. He had to remove himself from the town and his family forever, isolating himself from any sort of human contact until he learned how to resist the urges, how to stop constantly hearing the hearts and tasting the blood without sinking his teeth into necks. Even though he felt as if he were under control, there were still times that he would lose it. He couldn’t risk that, he couldn’t afford it. As much as Cohen had loved the wandering and seeing different places, he still couldn’t separate himself from human contact. And that meant he had to act correctly, not like a monster.

Sometimes he wondered if he ever really missed his home, or just having a place to call home. There was a fine line between the two, and since he had turned it he hadn’t been able to see a lot of the fine lines anymore. He felt alone though, and he needed some way to cure that. Sometimes the loneliness would get so much more intense than the hunger ever did. All he wanted was to find someone to spend time with that didn’t make him want to kill himself. It was ironic because he was already dead. The other vampires he’d met up with along the way were too much of a headache, and he couldn’t stomach being around them for too long. Cohen craved human interaction, and it was for something more than their blood.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever been turned into a vampire after all.

Maybe he missed being a human entirely too much.

As he stood on the curb, squinting up in the direction of the sun he observed one of the for rent signs hanging in the apartment window. They had renovated everything and it looked so completely different, but Cohen knew without a doubt that this was the spot that he had been turned. Well, the alleyway between the restaurant and the lofts he was staring up at were. And he felt it for the first time in a long while, that he was home. It took only about three seconds of hesitation and his hand on the doorknob before he opened the door and entered the building, putting on smile and fiddling with the silver clasp of his bracelet

It surprised him that it only took about thirty minutes for the elderly woman to set him up with a brand new set of keys to one of the lofts, and it surprised him even more that she took his first down payment in cash with no questions asked. He’d stuffed the key into his back pocket, not even bothering to go up and look at the room yet – it didn’t matter. He had a few belongings stowed away that he would unpack just to appease the woman at the desk, and then he’d go buy everything new. It was easier that way, he’d learned.

There wasn’t as much moving involved. Besides, things like that didn’t hold much meaning anymore. All the things that kept their meaning were on his body, crafted from ink, or tucked away into his small bank safe, yellowed and creased from the years and the countless bouts of folding.

Once he was back out on the sidewalk, he looked in the direction of the restaurant before pausing and turning the other way. He needed to explore, get a hold of what was the same and what was different. People that he passed on the street stopped and turned to look at him and for a moment Cohen wished that he had worn a jacket over his short sleeved shirt. Most people didn’t even give him or his tattoos a second glance, but he also hadn’t visited a town as small as this one in a long time. Apparently they didn’t have a tattoo shop right in the middle of town. Perhaps Cohen could find someone to fix that.

The thought made him smile, and his eyes lingered on everyone he passed, just to see how they reacted to him. Aside from the bit of shock from his arms, there was nothing. They didn’t have a clue. There was a huge part of him that wanted to go up to someone, look them in the eyes and compel them to tell him about vampires – just to see what they knew. But then there was an even larger part of him that reminded him of just how much he loved a game. And finding out about this town and what it still knew was a huge game to him.
​

​

 

[zooka]

Slow day, but I pass the time.
Coffee and a half pack.

Some people might consider it strange - possibly, probably, even insensitive - that Lennon had a favorite headstone. But this one really was special. Situated at the east end of the cemetery, it turned its face from the sun long before it became a trend in the town. Perhaps forgoing the traditional burying of the dead to face the rising sun had put a curse on the town, but it served Lennon well. That way, she didn't have to read the name or the dates on the grave marker, she could just rest her back against the cool stone and wait until the sun showed up like a particularly punctual employee at shift turnover.

It did a hell of a better job than she ever could and to this town, it was the unspoken symbol of safety. For being on such friendly terms with it, Lennon rarely got to enjoy the sun. It signaled a short trek to the station to report on any activity during the night and another short walk back to her apartment, both legs of the voyage made all the more enjoyable by chain smoking.

Really, that's the only time of day that she did it; literally using the dying light of one cigarette to light the next. Lennon didn't smoke on patrol and spent most of the rest of her time asleep, connecting with the cops on particularly troublesome cases, or training with the Foster.

Patrol was dangerous enough without the mind-numbing, sense-dulling bliss of a cigarette to distract her. Lennon had to switch up her route nightly and avoid any routine. As small as the town was, it had three cemeteries - and if all the bodies the town created actually stayed dead, it'd need even more. Lennon literally drew the name of which one she was going to hang around that night out of a hat on her way out the door. Sometimes she lurked around local bars, which were hotspots for feedings, but that held plenty of risks as well. She knew from experience that getting cornered in an alley by any more than two undead quickly became a fight for survival. Even one vampire was far from a walk in the park.

That's right. Lennon hunted vampires. And in her town, she had plenty of prey.

Thing is, no one really talked about it. The missing people. The dead bodies. Usually, people left as soon as they turned eighteen, but Lennon was 21 years old and she wasn't leaving anytime soon. She had moderate power with great responsibility. And, to adjust another cliche, she'd had said responsibility thrust upon her.

See, at age five, Lennon hid under the kitchen sink and when she came back out, the entire world was different.
​

Let the night come.​

Her mother burst into her room in the middle of the night and asked if she wanted to play hide-and-seek. Lennon was already awake because she was just as restless a child as she was an adult. She'd heard the doorbell ring and her father invite someone in - she thought maybe it was an uncle or something, but it was difficult to recognize the voice from all the way down the hall and through the door, despite the small size of the house. Thinking back, Lennon knew it must have been a newly-turned (ex)family member or her father wouldn't have invited them in at such a late hour.

"Not in your room though," her mother had said. Of course not. That was silly. The hiding spots in there were so obvious. Mother ushered her down the hallway and into the kitchen. She heard crashes in the living room. Her mother tucked her away behind the pipes, shoving aside household cleaners, and shut her away. The noise in the living room had stopped. Her mother was too scared to say goodbye, to give away Lennon's hiding spot. She shut the doors and ran back down the hallway, drawing all attention away from her temporary sanctuary.

Lennon's name came up once. Her mother lied, said she was at a sleepover. How strange for a Thursday night, but the intruder bought it. More crashes from the parents' bedroom, followed by an even heavier silence. The next thing she heard was footsteps, back out to the front door, followed by a grunt of surprise. She learned later that it was Devin, the aforementioned "Foster", efficiently ending the vampire's existence with a well-aimed bolt from a crossbow.

Why couldn't he have done it just a few minutes sooner? Perhaps that question weighed too heavily on all of them and explained why he didn't question that she'd never come to call him her "father", despite the fact that he became exactly that. The second he surveyed the scene, deduced that there had in fact been a child there that night, and eventually found her hiding under the sink. The second he reached his well-worn hand into the darkness of the cupboard. She didn't even question it, she just gripped it tightly and pulled herself out. And as soon as she stepped out, stood up, she knew. Her world had changed.

Devin Haroldson later told her that he saw something in her at that moment. Even young, he knew that she could take what the world was trying to dish her. It didn't mean she didn't cry, it didn't mean she didn't throw tantrums, and it didn't mean that she didn't rebel. But he knew that a darkness had burrowed into her as much as it hid her that night, and he could turn it into something productive.

Lennon wasn't the first kid he'd done this with and she wasn't the last. Most of them ended up dead or undead eventually. When she was fourteen, he took in another boy around the same age, Benjamin Casper. Lennon and Ben had been close, really close. When they turned 18, they struck out on their own, living together, patrolling together, slaying together.

Lennon was alone now, had been for a couple of years. Meaning their little adventure didn't have the happy ending they'd been hoping for.​

Said I'm thinking about you and I. ​

But Lennon did fine on her own. She kept to her patrols, did some "private consultant" work for the local police department, and if that didn't put food on the table, she could always count on Devin. But she'd get something today after bullshitting a report for them regarding the vampire that she'd killed. Another missing person's case closed. A future missing person's case avoided, probably.

That morning, when she stepped into the station, Officer Jacob Diaz greeted her like he did every morning.

"What was it this time?" he asked. He was in his 30s, all business and tried to remain thoroughly unimpressed at all times, even as his eyes fell on the vertical split in her lower lip. The answer was obvious. She'd fought a vampire, that tended to get her a little punched in the face sometimes. But he always asked, simply because she had an amusing habit of making up a new story every time.

"The danger of texting and walking," Lennon told him with a shrug. She held one of her arms vertical and straight and she brought the heel of her other hand to collide with it. "Bam. Straight into a pole."

Jacob actually sniffed out a laugh at that one. "I almost believe you," he said. And though she didn't explain it, she slapped a wallet down on his desk. She didn't need to explain it. It held a driver's license belonging to the vampire she'd dusted - or, more accurately, the human that existed before they became a vampire. He nodded. He'd look into it. He always did.

And as per usual, she excused herself to the break room while he did his work. She drank some coffee, ate a donut, and read the paper until he came back in with a check, meaning that she had, in fact, found the body of a missing person's case - again, more accurately, she'd found their reanimated corpse and deanimated it.

Drinking coffee was stupid since she was going straight back to her apartment to get some shut eye, but she always did it. It was just a habit at this point. Like smoking. Which she also did on the walk to the ATM to deposit the check and also on the way home.

Finally, her feet found the sidewalk in front of her apartment. The sun was shining full force now, but all she could think about was a good day's sleep in her cozy loft where she lived rent-free, thanks to the fact that she'd saved the landlord's daughter from joining either the dead or the undead.

But something actually piqued her interest. A new guy. Looks like he'd just left her apartment building. Lennon raised a brow, rather openly appraising him as she neared. In a simpler world, she might have been checking him out, but that wasn't Lennon's world. She was trying to guess how long he'd last in a fucked up town like this. ​

Like the sun goes way low. Stay low.​

 

[manatee]

Staying cooped up in the basically empty apartment all day didn’t seem like the best idea - especially if he was trying to blend in and look as normal as possible. He would have loved to sit down and relax a bit, especially since he was starting to feel his hunger forming like a headache at the edges of his temples, but he didn’t have time. He had to get out and go buy some furniture and groceries and look like a normal human being who had just moved into town. It was that simple, but sometimes the hunger got the best of him. Sometimes between feedings he lay in bed, motionless and like he was dead. Which, he figured, he kind of was.


The thought made him grin to himself and he shook his head as he descended the apartment steps, making his way out onto the sidewalk. Rattling his keys in his hand for a moment as he waved to the woman at the front desk in the lobby, he tucked those into his pocket before pushing open the door and heading out into the sunlight. Sometimes he still flinched against the rays, as if the light was going to start burning him from the inside out. His free hand reached across his wrist to fiddle with the bracelet before he looked up and down the sidewalk, trying to figure out which way was best to go. Mentally adding a car as one of his next purchases, he picked a direction and started walking.


Although this place was home to him, home had looked a whole lot different than it did now.


His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. There was only a handful of people that it could be, and none of them were that important right now. But as it went off again, he reached down into the side pocket of his jeans, pulling out the device and used his thumb to unlock the screen to read the message. Nothing of importance, just Victoria asking him how his bracelet was holding up and what sort of trouble he’d gotten into on the way back home.


It’s going great - and it looks pretty much the same but different. Does that make sen-


Before he could even finish what he was saying his shoulder made contact with someone else’s and the warmth of their body heat radiated all the way down to his ribs. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, head down in his phone, before briefly glancing up and catching an eye full of her jet black hair. His eyes darkened slightly as he froze, studying her for a moment before letting out a charming smile. “I’m so sorry about that, and I’m always one of those people who complains about people walking while on their cellular devices.”


His smile never wavered as he took in her appearance. She looked edgy, and he noted that he liked that about her. “I’m new here, I just moved in literally right down the road,” he motioned over his shoulder at the apartment building behind them. “Do you know a good place to pick up some new furniture?”

He made sure to flash her some dimple - the ladies always loved the dimple.

 

[zooka]

Boy look at you, lookin' at me. I know you don't understand.​

The incoming collision was no surprise to Lennon. In fact, eyes on the new "meat" - to some constituents, quite literally meat - in town, Lennon noticed that his eyes were down on his phone and she let the shoulder brush happen; an amused smile was already playing on her features by the time he mumbled out his apology. And, of course, the gentleman noticed that it was a lady he had bumped into and promptly apologized again.

At his comment about "cellular devices," Lennon had to let out a low laugh, seeing as that was the very excuse she'd given Diaz about her split lip. She flicked her spent cigarette a couple of feet away into the gutter.

Now, Lennon never made eye contact with anyone. She'd been around too many vamps to do that and the survival instinct had turned into an accidental social ineptitude. But that didn't mean she never looked at a person's face. She would focus on the surrounding, subtle tells of expression - a lift of the brow, the curl of a lip, flare of a nostril.

So, naturally, Lennon noticed the dimple.

Poor boy. This town would eat him alive.

All I wanna do is get
high by the beach.​

Get high, Baby.
Baby, bye bye.​

Though she'd walked right through the initial contact, Lennon spun on one heel, shoving her hands in her pockets of black jeans that had seen better days. Though it was warming up, a heavy leather jacket was hanging on her shoulders and mostly covered up the dark red tank underneath - what was the old joke about the pirate and the red shirt?

Lennon faced him and her eyes, the dark blue color of ice in the night, sparkled with something akin to an inside joke as she answered him.

"There's, ah," Lennon jerked her thumb back over her shoulder in the opposite direction of where he'd been walking, "a place called Bibles and Sh-" she cut herself off abruptly. She'd nearly called it by its unofficial nickname "Bible's 'n' Shit" rather than it's actual title, "Bibles for Missions. Kinda like a Salvation Army. They've got some stuff like that if you're wantin' cheap."

And, believe me, you do. Lennon didn't think he'd be sticking around too long and a sad, small part of her hoped that it's because the town scared her off, not because it ate him.

Still, that bit of her was buried, not easily accessible for the sake of her own sanity. The hard part of her that had pushed itself to the surface and served as an armor was really just pretty damn tired and wanted to go back to her bed and fall asleep.

And yet, a part of this new guy was... refreshing. It had been awhile since she'd seen tattoos out in the open. Some old veterans hit them under long sleeves, probably covering up their pasts just as much as the thick, fuzzy, fading workmanship. His were fresh. He was fresh. Lennon drew in a breath and when she released it, it was almost as if her body couldn't believe the next words out of her mouth. Her eyes, underscored by tired, subtle violet skin, rolled ever so slightly. Her shoulders rolled forward as her fists balled up in her pockets.

"I think you're my new neighbor. Need any help moving?"

You could be a bad motherfucker but that don't make you a man.​

 

[manatee]

As luck would have it, Cohen had all but knocked over a pretty girl. It was always in his favor when things like this happened. It meant that his journey was off to a great start. There was something about this girl though, something different. Her entire presence was strong, and Cohen could feel the chills, the hunger, the warmth spreading up his spine. It took every ounce of control he had to make sure that he didn’t inhale sharply - something that would make him look odd. Even though she had yet to make some sort of eye contact with him, his eyes had never left hers - his gaze enjoying the slow and steady stroll it took of her features.

Tucking his phone back into his front pocket of his faded jeans, Cohen ran a hand through his hair, trying to appear as cool and collected as he felt like he looked. Hell, he might have been someone trying to hide his true self, but he was also technically a young man - and this was a very interesting girl in front of him.

Changing into a vampire hadn’t changed much. Sure, there was the whole thing about him feeding off of the blood of humans, but it was a minor detail. He could still eat, though the food would settle down into his stomach with a heaviness, a sort of feeling that reminded him of what he wished he could be again.

“Bibles for Missions,” he echoed, rocking back on his heels as he tucked his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. There was a beat of silence between them as he took in what she’d mentioned and about cheap being a huge factor. He wanted to announce that money wasn’t an object and the thought of sleeping on a used bed made his skin crawl. But, he should probably run with the broke fresh out of high school backstory. It made sense, and he surely looked the part.

“That could work,” he began, before she was offering to help him move. There was a pause from him, a slight shake of the head before he let out an internal sigh. There wasn’t anything in his possession right now that would give him away. 'Easy, Cohen,' he reminded himself, 'you don’t always have to be so suspicious.'

He did though. His sort of life depended on it.

“Deal, but I currently have nothing to my name. So if you’re in and want to come with me to pick out something to at least sleep on, I can repay you with dinner.” There was an itch in him, something that wanted to use compulsion, but instead he relied on another earth shattering grin.

Slow and steady wins the race.

“Though, I won’t be offended if you’d much rather pass on that. Although, being shown around town would be great. I’m Cohen, by the way.”

 

[zooka]

On the inside, Lennon was punching herself in the face. She was tired. She should sleep. But, then again, she did have some coffee at the station. She could probably get by for awhile with the help of the slow, continuous murder of her lungs. All in the name of being a good neighbor. And maybe an opportunity to convince this guy to get the hell out of dodge, save herself a future missing person report.

With that, she nodded at him and nodded her head back over her shoulder. "Come on, then."

Lennon turned and started walking towards the street she'd mentioned. She was already pulling out another cigarette and lighter as she asked her next question, bouncing one end of the pack against the butt of her palm a couple of times before she did so.

"So, what brings you to Eastbrook, Cohen?"

And upon using his name, she realized that she hadn't given him hers in exchange.

"I'm Lennon, by the way."

And yet another social courtesy on the wayside. She gestured to the cigarette between her first two fingers with the lighter before bringing it to her lips.

"You don't mind, do ya?"

Lennon's eyes scanned him again, trying to suss out his answer before he could give it. Did he seem like the type who would mind? His innocent face said yes, the tattoos said no. And there was something else. Something about him brushed against her, like the gentle nudge of intuition. The corners of her eyes wrinkled gently, thoughtfully, and though she didn't meet his eyes, she was watching his features closely.

Now you're just another one of my problems.​

 

[manatee]

Normally when we moved into a new town, he tried to stay a loner. It was easier, he didn’t have to be so worried about hiding. As much as it was fun to have a friend - he did enjoy the company - he didn’t have to be so paranoid all of the time. Friends wanted to hang out, they wanted life stories, and Cohen had too many for it to make sense sometimes. A lot of times he’d have to stick with a basic one and make sure to write it down somewhere that he could remember it and not get confused. And as much as Cohen had been all about friends and fun, the life of a vampire didn’t quite warrant that anymore. It was one of the sacrifices - though he hadn’t sacrificed it. It was one of the things that had been taken away from him.

They walked along, and Cohen couldn’t help but look around at the small town that hadn’t changed much. Of course things were modernized, but the buildings along the main street were still standing and the same. It was a lot to take in at once, and as he took in the buildings he had spent time inside he could feel a dull ache. What we wouldn’t have given to have been able to lived and died here. Now, thanks to some bitch, who he would find, he was stuck living and living and living. Sometimes it was hard to want to keep on living when he had to live like this.

What brought him to Eastbrook? So much.

“Well,” he eased into it, not wanting to sound weird, or suspicious, in any case. “My parents had always mentioned something about our ancestors being from here, and I’m doing the whole avoiding college self discovery thing.” Shrugging slightly, he looked over to her and grinned. “Weird, I know. And I’m coming to see there’s not much self discovering to do here.”

At her asking about the cigarette, Cohen shook his head. “No, I don’t care.”

They walked in silence for a few steps, before he looked back over to her, rubbing one of his inked arms slowly. “Any place for tattoos? It’s looking like a hard no on that one.”

 

[zooka]

I'm known as a killer. A heart killer.​

Lennon took another sidelong glance down at his arms when he asked about a tattoo shop and. Though the look might have been covered up by dark lashes, the smirk definitely was not. He was correct in assuming that there were no tattoo parlors in this (literally) Godforsaken town. Though demons ran the streets every night, the townsfolk clung to some rather ridiculous ideals. Perhaps it was easier to swallow the horrors in life that way.

Sure, vampires crawl out of hell and up through our sewer gates at sunset, but tattoos are the real evil in this world, and we've really been cracking down on that lately.

"There's a parlor a couple of towns over. One of the guys there does great work. If you've got a car, you could go see him. Or a friend with a car," she said. Her brow arched up a bit as she raised her gaze to his face. She did have access to a car or two. Dev had one that she used if she needed it.

"Though, it looks like you've taken up most of that, uh," her eyes moved up and down his arm once, "real estate. What could you possibly have left?" She was well aware that she was flirting. He probably was aware of it, too. That was fine. He wouldn't be sticking around very long anyway, so there wasn't a lot of harm in it.

Besides, the girl wasn't shy. In fact, she was fearless, and she liked to see people blush. It was a different kind of thrill, though not entirely different from the hunt.

Lennon looked forward again, taking in a long pull from her cigarette.

"Well, Cohen," she said before releasing the puff. "Hope you got a short lease. There's not much to find around this town." Nothing good, anyway. "What's the last name? I can probably help you out. I've been here awhile, I know almost everyone around here." Plus, access to police files didn't hurt.

Lennon switched her cigarette over to her left hand and reached her right over to give his hand a shake. "Mine's Aubert, by the way. Lennon Aubert. Ow-bear, if you wanna get French with it." The roguish corner of Lennon's lip curled and tightened, the smirk deepening; a substitute for the wink, the effect of which would have been lost without granting him eye contact. Again, harmless flirting. He wouldn't last too long here.

 

[manatee]

​

Nodding at the mention of a tattoo parlor, Cohen tucked that bit of information away and stored it in his brain for later. At the mention of him running out of real estate, Cohen grinned easily and shrugged. “I’ve got a few blank spaces left.” There wasn’t much though, when he really thought about it. But tattoos were the only thing that stayed around forever - just like him. Plus it was something to do when he was bored, something that helped keep his memories where he could savor them. He was well aware that she was flirting - but what was the harm in that? It wasn’t like he was going to kill her. He was well beyond that stage in his life. It was just something to do, someone to keep him entertained.


“Thanks, I might need to check them out at some point.” She mentioned someone having a car and Cohen nodded. “A car is next on the list of things I probably could invest in one at some point.” He took a minute to glance around the line of stores that surrounded them on each side of the road. Though there were plenty of things around here, he would need to get to a grocery store, for looks sake - among other things. Plus, it would make him look less suspicious than the person who was always walking around town.


“Nice to meet you, Lennon.” He gave her an easy grin as he directed his attention back down to her. She’d been here forever, apparently. Which means she had to have heard the name Harroway. His father had been the mayor in the eighteen hundreds - a fact that historians and small town junkies loved to remember. “I”m Harroway,” he added with a nonchalant shrug. “My parents mentioned something about that potentially being a big deal here, but they also couldn’t be bothered with coming to visit.” Always bring up parents, he reminded himself. Not only did it back up his age story, but it also helped him sound more relatable. He hoped.


Lennon’s questions raised a minor red flag, but Cohen was being careful. He had grown accustomed of being careful. There was also the part of him however that just couldn’t resist a pretty woman. And there was something about her. Cohen felt like he needed her - like she could help him figure some things out. He wanted to find out who had turned him, and he wanted her dead, and someone as nosy as this girl in front of him had to know something about the town’s history. She just had to.

 

[zooka]

"Harroway," Lennon repeated with a nod. It didn't ring any bells for her at the moment, but if he said it was awhile back, that might be why. She was more in touch with current events out of necessity. She'd helped a lot of the families and businesses around town, which is how her connections were made. She was familiar with the townsfolk, but not so close that she'd feel bad staking them after their corpse popped back up.

And that was only a portion of them. Most of the folks around town thought she was pretty strange or they viewed her presence and her openness about the evil of the town as an unwelcomed reminder of the horrors that came out at night. She didn't mind. They always changed their tune after she saved their necks, and if they didn't need saving, then they (or their opinions) weren't her concern.

"I'll look into it. It's the neighborly thing to do, after all."

Lennon flicked her cigarette into the gutter. The leaves there were dark and soggy with last night's rain. That's when she realized she probably looked like a hot mess. She dragged her fingers through her dark hair, pushing her hat off as she did so. Her other hand came up to grab it at shove it in her pocket. Having been wet at some point in the night, it dried into waves at the bottom. It was always a bit wild unless she braided it, which she rarely took the time to do.

And then, of course, there was the split lip and the dark circles against pale skin. Despite looking every bit the old saying about being "rode hard and put away wet", she still had full pink lips going for her and the steely eyes, just off center from blue.

"So you must have just gotten in this morning, huh?" Lennon asked, tucking some hair behind her ear. "A couple things you should know about this town. Don't go out at night. And keep a low profile on Sunday mornings. The church crowd is pretty, er, judgemental around here. The Foster mowed his lawn on a Sunday once, I thought he was going to wither up from the looks they gave him. I don't know if you're religious or not and, if you are, what kind of love-for-all kind of place you were worshiping, but this shit-" she gestured to his tattooed arms "-isn't gonna fly around here."

Lennon threw him another smirk. "They'd probably expect you incinerate as soon as you passed through the threshold of their precious church. Don't worry. They don't like me, either. I'm 'trouble'." She curled her fingers in air quotes at the last word.

 

[manatee]

He hadn’t been in the town long, and Cohen was already gathering what he should expect from everyone else that lived here. Lennon proved to be a valuable resource to him, and he hadn’t even known her for a handful of minutes. There was something about her though, something that made something inside Cohen stir - and not hunger. It was almost as if he could feel himself coming back to life. She was so vibrant, so full of life herself, that it was pouring out of her and into him. He didn’t even know the girl, it was odd. But time was a finicky thing, sometimes you felt like you knew people for a lot longer than you actually had.

“I’ll make sure to keep myself properly covered if I ever go out during church times.” As they walked, he looked over to her, smiling slightly before looking over across the street. The sidewalks were moderately busy, and he noted that not too many people were paying them any mind. This might have been easier than he thought it was going to be. Maybe he could find who had turned him, kill her, figure out what had happened to his parents, and leave before anyone really began to discover who he was.

There was no specific plan he had in his head, no crazy mission he had thought up and was ready to act upon. One would think that with hundreds of years to think about it that he would have something planned, but he just didn’t. Life didn’t work that way. Certainly the after life didn’t either. He would think of some idea that would work, and then something would come up. And for the longest time, he was terrified of coming back to this town. It had nearly swallowed him whole when he’d been alive, he could only image what would happen this time.

It was almost too lucky that he had happened upon Lennon as soon as he’d arrived. There was something about her, some sort of spark he could feel. He liked it. She was trouble, she declared, and that made him laugh at loud. “Well, I think we’ll get along just fine then.” Trouble was his middle name. Especially if she would have known about what he was - what he had turned into. That was a secret he planned on keeping secret though, a secret that Cohen didn’t let anyone know. It was surprising how easy it was to appear normal, to let people think that he was just a typical man. It had taken a while to get to that point, but now it was so easy.

“I kind of need furniture. The loft was furnished, but something tells me that I might catch all sorts of things if I lay in that bed. At least a new bed. Any suggestions?”

 

[zooka]

Lennon put a hand on her chest and gave an overdramatic gasp as she looked up at Cohen.

"Are you questioning the cleanliness - nay, the integrity - of an establishment so fine as the Old Main Apartments?" Her voice matched the gasp, but she laughed right after, dropping the act as quickly as it came on. Damn, things had been so fucking bleak around here, she forgot how good it was to actually exchange a laugh with someone. When she did, her head tilted back a bit and she could feel the sun on her cheeks.

Her smile lingered as she gave him a real answer. "But seriously, that's probably a good call. There's a furniture store next to Bibles 'n' Shit, so you can have your pick. And," she said, the energy in her voice hopping up another level as she took a step ahead, spun on her heel and walked backward for a couple of steps. "There is a donut shop right across the street. And they have coffee. Hint, hint," she said. Subtlety wasn't exactly a strength of Lennon's.

She fell back into step with him after that. "Do you need a TV or anything? They're probably not going to have many options for that around here. Might have to jump towns for that one. In the meantime, I have one, if you think you'd die without it. And some old records. Speaking of which, did your parents name you after the singer? I think mine did."
Lennon tucked her hands into her pockets at that, gaze falling down to the sidewalk for a moment. She was doing a couple things that she knew she shouldn't do.

One, she was inviting him over. As a general rule, she didn't do that. With vampires, it was obvious. But with humans, well, sooner or later they tended to end up dead or undead, so getting to know them wasn't a great idea.

And two, she was bringing up her parents, which always put her in a shitty mood. As if on cue, a cool breeze crashed over them. It might have been nice, the way it brushed through her hair, but it also cut the warmth on her cheeks.

 

[manatee]

“Thank god there’s somewhere I can at least get something to sleep on.” Cohen would be the first to admit that he had slept in worse places, but he was trying to keep up an appearance here. If he was going to be presumed to be coming from a long line of Harroways, then he needed to look like his family had money. Which he did, but it wasn’t from two loving and hard working parents. It was because he’d lived a long, long life and saved up from hundreds of years. A little hard to explain, so the rich parents was a much easier route.

Since he had been doing this a while - pretending to be human - he didn’t feel nervous or frightened anymore. He was always very overly cautious and tried to never let his guard down, but he didn’t walk around with fear in his eyes anymore. A few centuries of being charming, and the silver bracelet on his wrist had helped erase his fear. Everyone knew that vampires couldn’t be out in the sunlight. And in most places he had resided, vampires were purely a fictional entity. Here though, in the town he’d been changed in, he knew it was different. He could feel it in the air.

“I think I’ll be okay without a television for now,” he added, glancing over at the girl and shrugging lightly. Over the many years, though he’d grown accustomed to the television, he had survived without it for many, many decades. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do, besides, if he ever really had downtime he would much prefer to read a book.

Cohen could tell that her bringing up her parents struck some sort of nerve, but he didn’t push it. He had to stick with his laid back, no care attitude. Also, it would only drive her away if he pushed for information. He could tell. There was no way that he was stupid enough to push his luck and run away someone who was friendly enough to him who might could help him out. Especially not when he’d literally almost ran into her as soon as he’d arrived. Fate worked in such mysterious ways.

“Who knows why my parents named me Cohen. I don’t think it was so much after the singer,” he had no clue of the singer - it was pretty difficult for him to keep up with all of the music changes and things, he tried his best - but he wasn’t going to let her catch on to that. “I think my parents more enjoyed the fact that Cohen sounds very uppity and pretentious - something that fits their lives very perfectly.” And he wasn’t wrong. His mother had loved all things wealthy sounding, and thus Cohen had taken hold. He didn’t love it and he didn’t hate it. It was just who he was.

Cohen Harroway.

 

[zooka]

I'm jealous, I'm overzealous.
When I'm down, I get real down.
When I'm high, I don't come down.
I get angry, baby, believe me.
I could love you just like that.
And I could leave you just as fast.

The rest of Lennon's day with Cohen was painfully normal.

Painful. Because it was easy to talk to him. Easy to forget that this situation had only a few possible, equally shitty endings. Either Cohen left town or it would swallow him whole like it had done to nearly everyone else. As they carried out their blissfully mundane task of furniture shopping, Lennon felt a renewed energy that was nearly as good as sleep, but she also felt guilty.

Lennon knew she should warn him about what would come out at night. Tell him to save his money, go somewhere else or, at the very least, not to go out at night if he could help it. But for once she was actually reluctant to come across as crazy. She wanted Cohen to like her. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but she just hadn't clicked with someone the way she had with Cohen in such a damn long time and just being around him dulled the raw and ragged edges of loneliness. The gnawing, aching feeling in her chest had faded into the background for a while, but it was now glaringly obvious in contrast with the warmth of that painfully normal day.

She wondered how long it could possibly last. Not long, probably. She might run into him a few more times before she inevitably met him at night where he'd either be a victim or a target.

Patrol that night sucked for a myriad of reasons, the biggest one being how goddamn tired she was. But also, it was a reintroduction to her reality. This was real life, her life. And whether he left, or died, or was turned, her job remained the same. The break in the monotony provided by Cohen was short lived as she exited her apartment, reaching into the black stocking cap that hung by the door and let the little slip of paper decide which cemetery she would check that night. And once she was there, she had to keep walking about to stay alert. It wasn't her first time running on empty, but things felt a bit colder after such a nice warm day. Cohen was just so... different. There was something about him, something she couldn't put her finger on, that made her want to know more, spend more time with him.

But that lack of focus seemed like a good way to get killed, so she walked the cemetery, fingers brushing the tops of tombstones. Usually, if a newly turned vampire was going to spring up, they would have done it by that time of night, so she started down the path, out of the cemetery. Maybe just to keep herself awake, maybe because she was feeling a little bit reckless, she decided that she would patrol some of the other hot spots that night rather than sticking around the cold, empty graveyard.

As she walked through the black, wrought iron gate, she looked up, scanning around. It wasn't a busy part of town, especially not at this time of night. But she saw a familiar face. She stopped for a moment in her tracks. She didn't really know if she should call out to him. It was the middle of the night and she was leaving a cemetery. That was more than a little strange.

Then again, he shouldn't really be out either, something Lennon now felt obligated to tell him now since she hadn't mentioned it during the day. A part of her hoped he wouldn't be the type to go wandering around at night. But, then again, would she have clicked with someone who didn't? She let out a sigh, shrugging a little further into her jacket.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's not safe to walk alone at night?" Lennon called to him as she walked over, letting her lips curve up into a gentle smirk. It was an easy expression around him and it would serve her well if she had to deflect any questions about why she was doing the thing she'd warned him about.

 

[manatee]

This wasn’t a good idea. All of this, it was terrible. There had not been one part of him, on this quest to find himself, that had agreed on getting involved with someone. And this was worse. This wasn’t just some sort of sexual connection - something driven completely by lust. Cohen felt drawn to Lennon, almost eerily so. It felt as if he would have easily given up everything to keep her safe. That terrified him. Cohen had always felt so empty. He had never felt anything quite like this. Stupid. He was an idiot.

He couldn’t believe that he had been here not even twenty-four hours and he already had gotten himself into some deep shit. Because, although he was a vampire, he was also Cohen. And not the same Cohen that he had been before he’d turned, he was an entirely different Cohen. He was the Cohen who choked up at goodbyes and locked himself up in his apartment for weeks after he watched a handmade stake go through his best friend’s heart. He didn’t handle loss, and loss was inevitable for him and the girl. It just wasn’t. Cohen wasn’t planning on lingering, he just wanted to find out if the bitch was still here, he wanted to kill her, and he wanted to be gone.

Sitting around in the dingy apartment at night wasn’t cutting it, so Cohen shrugged on his faded and worn leather jacket and headed out into the night. As soon as his feet connected with the sidewalk he was amazed that a sudden wave of ominous didn’t hit him. He didn’t feel like he should be on guard and he didn’t feel like looking over his shoulder every time he crossed a street. It almost scared him in a way, how safe he felt walking down the empty street. The only thing that struck him odder than that was the fact that there wasn’t anyone out. That was a red flag. That was also his sign. Cohen knew that with signs of emptiness came signs of something like him.

Perhaps hours had passed, or only minutes, but he knew that he had been walking for quite some time. He’d been walking around long enough for even the tip of his nose to become red from the cold - something that rarely happened. Even though many things had changed since he’d lived here, Cohen still could manage to find himself around. When he looked up from the sidewalk he realized he was passing the cemetery and he slowed his steps down, turning his head to look into the gated area. It wasn’t that this was the place that he would necessarily hang out if he was looking to prey on innocent people - in fact this was the least likely place he’d be caught dead in. He chuckled lightly at his own little joke before he halted. There was that familiar heartbeat - the one that he hadn’t been able to stop hearing in his ears since he’d departed from it.

And within seconds she appeared.

Cohen squinted slightly, rubbing his hand against the rough stubble on his cheek as he watched her approach. There were a lot of reasons that she could have been in the graveyard, he figured, but all that sent up to him was alarms. He needed to be careful. Maybe she wasn’t dangerous, but she was asking for trouble. Cohen knew that he had enough trouble coming to him, he didn’t need to take on anymore. But as soon as she approached him, he shrugged off he worry, tossing an arm lightly around her shoulder in greeting before quickly taking it back. Too much, probably.

“My mama warned me about a lot of things,” he began, biting his tongue so he didn’t ask her what the hell she was doing in the literal middle of a graveyard. “Thankfully, I don’t heed her warnings too much.” The urge to ask was itching in the back of his throat like a cough, and he cleared it, hoping to push away the question as well. “And, also, it’s a good thing I’m here to walk you home, wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.”

Cohen had a feeling that she wasn’t going home, but he wanted to prod without seeming like he was prodding. Shoving his hands down into his pockets, he cut his eyes over at her with a sly grin.

“I’m not even going to ask.”

 

[zooka]

Well, I'm not so scary on my own.​

Just as easily as his arm had slipped around her shoulders, hers had slid around his torso, returning the half-embrace. And alongside him, she realized how it really wasn't a good idea. They were already getting along so well when they shouldn't, the reminder that she could slide under his shoulder as smoothly as two puzzle pieces fit together. It was just as satisfying a feeling, too. That

ah, found it

feeling.

She shook her head slightly, getting that thought out of her head and also responding to his comment.

"I can't go back just yet. I'm..." she looked down, shoving her hands into her pockets and taking a breath before giving up on the explanation entirely. "It's hard to explain. But you should go home. It's not really safe out here."

At that, she gave a bit of a reassuring smile, though there was a hint of a smirk.

"I'm perfectly safe. In fact, maybe I should walk you home," she told him, quirking an eyebrow at him. She had her hat on once again, tugging her jacket across her chest a little tighter as she puffed up her chest in a somewhat prideful manner. It was the 21st century. She could protect him on his walk back to the apartment.

Wait, is that the direction he'd been heading. She tilted her head at him. "What the hell are you doing out anyway?" she asked. She wasn't afraid to outright ask him. He was new to this town. He probably didn't know that it was a bad idea, and though she'd been reluctant to seem crazy before, now it was a bit more urgent. She really didn't want anything to happen to him. There was still time to convince him to leave.

Still, it was intriguing. Was he as restless a soul as her that he needed to wander the streets at night? She couldn't deny how long it had been since she'd found another heart that was as stray as hers. Then again, she might just be projecting some things onto him, fantasizing. That was dangerous. Maybe she was just tired and her heart was getting careless.

God, this was bad. Why had she offered to walk him back? Was it really for his protection or did she just want to spend time with him.

This was bad.

Tell me honey, what's a dagger without a cloak?​

 

[manatee]

​

Arguably, he understood that the image of him walking around near a graveyard at night was a bit off. Him being a newcomer to the town probably didn’t help that context at all, either. But when Cohen was hungry he grew restless. And when he was restless, lying in bed with all of his demons chasing him, the best thing to do was to get out of the house. Or in this case, the tiny, bit odd smelling apartment he was currently staying in.

His other number one rule was to keep himself distanced from the inhabitants of the town. It was odd though, because there was something about Lennon. There was something in the beat of her heart, the slow and steady pace of it that was drawing him in. Any of his friends would tell him it was because her blood was irresistible - he knew that wasn’t it. Whenever his eyes landed on the girl, any sort of urge to feed was gone. It was almost as if his soul - if he even had one anymore - was telling him that he needed her.

“I can’t sleep,” he finally offered, because as much as it was the truth, it was also a good reason. Cohen wasn’t sure he’d actually slept since the night he’d been turned, but he was sure that she’d understand what he was saying. “And since you know as well as I do that the only thing I own is a bed, I figured what better way to kill time than to go out for a walk.” When she mentioned it being unsafe, a frown tugged at his lips. If it was unsafe, then what was she doing out here? Cohen had been able to tell when he’d officially walked into town that something was off. Now, if Lennon would just spill.

“I’ve always dreamed of being escorted home by a pretty woman.”

In fact, Cohen wondered just how many times, especially before, had he walked a woman home. Even before he had the urge to suck the entire life out of their bodies, when had he taken the time to show the end of the evening by escorting someone to their door? As old as he was, the idea still sounded foreign to him. What sort of person would he be if he’d always had manners like this? The answer was haunting, and almost made him let out a strangled cry, but instead he ran a hand through his hair before shrugging absently at Lennon.

If he’d always had those kinds of manners, he’d be buried in the cemetery behind them.

“Alright fine, you can escort me back home. I wouldn’t want to get scared by any ghosts that may be about.” The comment was funny to him, but he saw the tense way that Lennon was walking beside him and he wondered what all she knew. There had to be something. There was definitely something that was going on that he needed to figure out. Even though this place was his own personal hell, he still felt as if he owed it to his family to figure out what was going on.

They walked in silence for a few moments, and Cohen could almost feel it. If he stopped his mind from clinging to every beat of the woman’s heart beside him, he could feel something prickling at the back of his neck. Something was making his blood run cold, a feat in and of itself, and Cohen wasn’t too sure what to do. Maybe it was just nothing, maybe he was just paranoid, but if he didn’t know any better, he would have said that he was being followed.

Of course, he’d never say it outloud, that would mean Lennon was right.

 

[zooka]

Guess I'm contagious. It'd be safest if you ran. Fuck, that's what they all just end up doing in the end.​

Lennon was a bit quiet as they started to walk back, which was a bit unusual for someone as cavalier as she came off. She just couldn't shake a myriad of bad feelings.

It was her responsibility to patrol around this town and make sure that vampires couldn't just spring up and kill people.

She didn't know why Cohen was out and she had a bad feeling about it.

She felt something else, like an instinct, just dancing on the back of her neck like the prickly end of icy fingers and it was toying with her.

The silence ended up being opportune, then, because she could pay attention to her surroundings. It was incredibly quiet. There were no people out because it was late, but there were no animals, either. Usually, there were some sounds. Rustling, hooting, chirping... but when there was a predator around? Animals cleared out. Lennon was fairly certain that was what was going on now. She might have missed something back at the cemetery and it might have been following them now.

Lennon patted the pocket of her oversized jacket. "Shit..." she found her cellphone was there, safe and secure, but she went on to lie about exactly that. "I think I dropped my phone back there. I'll, uh... Go on ahead. I'll catch up in a minute." She honestly didn't have any idea if he was buying any of what she was selling, but she had bigger fish to fry right now. She didn't want a vampire following him home or anywhere for that matter. It could jump them at any time and if they did that, she'd have to defend him and her... skill in that category might bring up a few questions. For example: Why on earth was some random chick in a small town fighting like she'd gone through some US Combatives Program?

Questions she wasn't prepared to answer just yet. So she needed to finish this quickly. And on her own terms. So she did something a little extreme. She pulled out a small silver knife from her belt and made a quick slash to the back of of her forearm under her jacket sleeve. Hopefully, the blood would attract the vampire quickly and she could take care of it back in the cemetery, away from Cohen.

Need some blood in the cut. ​

 

[manatee]

Silence didn’t wear on Cohen as much as it had when he’d been alive. He’d found over the years that he’d grown very capable of sitting in silence. He truly could understand a lot from a person just based on interactions like that. As they walked on down past the graveyard, Cohen ran his fingers along the cool iron of the fence that was keeping them to the sidewalk. There was a part of him that felt as if he could have walked in silence with Lennon for the rest of the walk and it would have been fine.

Turning his head towards her when she mentioned her phone, Cohen grabbed out for Lennon as she walked off, and then watched for a moment as she slipped right through his fingertips like a ghost. Shit, she was fast. “Lennon, wait,” he called out. His voice almost echoed into the emptiness, and he shuddered in the damp air. It wasn’t even that cold out, but something was off. He could feel it.

She wasn’t feeling scared, which alerted him to something. What girl wasn’t scared near a cemetery late at night...in the dark? Although there was something different to Lennon, he’d known that when he’d first met her. He could feel something was different when he’d first bumped into her. Which he was doing a lot of - that fact he’d think about more when he wasn’t completely worried about what was currently happening.

Lennon had instructed him to stay, but obeying wasn’t really Cohen’s strong suit. “Lennon,” he called again, the only sound echoing in the air besides his voice was the sound of his feet on the pavement. Where were all the nighttime noises? It was as if the entire world had grown still. It was like the entire world had stopped completely.

And then it hit him.

He stumbled, the scent of blood slapping him in the face, and he went down, hands out and scraping against the pavement as he fell. “Mother fucker,” he mumbled into the sidewalk, before pushing himself up and looking towards the girl. Lennon had a knife. She had a knife pressed against her skin and there was the blood, dripping slowly and delicious like honey. Cohen was up as fast as he fell, breathing hard, as he stood practically up against Lennon. “What,” he managed, his breath ragged with restraint, “are you doing?”

Cohen’s entire face was pale and he ran a hand over his face to help him regain his composure. “The fuck,” he managed again, before he turned towards the fence, hands gripped white against the iron. “I don’t do blood.”

 

[zooka]

Lennon spun as she realized that Cohen had followed her. Her focus had mostly been out toward the cemetery, not behind her where she'd left Cohen. And he was... fast, too. He was standing as she whirled to face him. This probably looked really, really strange, but then again, she'd been meaning to warn him about all of this, so...

After tucking the knife away once more, she covered the cut on her arm with her hand, if only to hide it from him because, as he'd mentioned, he clearly didn't' do well with blood. He looked like he might pass out from the sight of it.

"Cohen, get out of here, okay? I can't explain everything right now, but I will, just-"

A snarl tore through the night air behind her. She spun just as quickly as she had before and was face to face with an all too familiar sight. She probably interacted with more vampires than she did humans, which was way too sad to think about right now.

"Run," was all she told him, though her voice was just as calm as it was firm. She held up the hand she'd just used to cover her wound and kind of lightly wiggled her fingers, just to keep the vampire distracted. As a predator, they liked to chase prey, so it would take some pretty strong signals to keep it from taking off after Cohen when he ran. Luckily, her blood was fresh and right in front of his face, so her mission to distract him was more than accomplished.

She took a couple of careful steps to the side, away from Cohen and the vampire followed her with his gaze and turned his body with her. He could probably sense in her stance that she wasn't going to run away from him and that she was a bit of a predator herself. It didn't deter him, though, and soon enough, he jumped at her. Then, it was a flurry of motion from Lennon as he reached for her and tried to go for the throat. She deflected both of his reaching hands to the side and, as she did, her body turned with him, their shoulders rolling off of one another. They were practically back to back for just a moment and she reached behind and gripped him under the jawn and yanked as she bent forward. He came flipping over the top of her and landed against the cold, unforgiving ground. She already had a stake out, ready to plunge into his heart, but he grabbed her wrist and tried to pull it into her mouth.

Her other hand shoved his head to the side before he could and she brought a knee down to pin his face sideways and tried to pull her wrist free from his iron grasp. He was young, but he was strong, and he managed to give her an even stronger pull and tossed her right off of him. Her hand, still a bit slippery from the blood on it, dropped the stake midroll and she didn't have time to recover it before he was on top of her.

She pulled the small knife out once more and managed to shove it up and into his throat before he could bite down on her. It wouldn't kill him, but it at least gave her some leverage and held him at bay while she maneuvered her legs and her free arm to get him off of her, rolling in the direction of her stake while staying attached to him. She ended up on top of him, instead, and was lightning fast about taking up her dropped weapon. She had a hard angle on the knife, and that meant he didn't see that she'd managed to pick it up again and definitely didn't see when she stabbed the stake right through his heart.

It had been fast, but intense, and Lennon released a heavy exhale of relief. She was still really tired from the lack of sleep previously, so getting her adrenaline up like that and then having it just drop out of her hit her hard. And as the adrenaline faded away and she could hear other things besides the pounding of her heart in her ears, she could hear the normal night sounds bleed back in. And she felt a throb in her wrist where he'd squeezed, probably not even knowing his own strength in that.

But at least it was over. Finally, she opened her eyes, which had fallen closed without her permission, and looked around for Cohen, desperately hoping he'd taken her advice and ran for it.

 

[manatee]

Because would it really be Cohen if he followed directions? If he had, his body would currently be found buried across the fence from where he was currently standing. And there was just something about authority, something in someone telling him to do something. Cohen just didn’t react well to being told what to do. So naturally, when Lennon told him to run, he froze. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely his fault, because just as he’d been going to say something, a man was popping out from somewhere Cohen really couldn’t say.

But there was a man, and as soon as Cohen saw him, he knew that he wasn’t really a man. If Cohen couldn’t pick his own kind out of the crowd, well, that would be a huge problem. He could though, he could tell from the lack of heartbeat - as well as the super swift moves. It was all happening so fast, and Cohen couldn’t even step in to help because he wasn’t too sure what would happen. He was so fucking hungry.

Lennon had it taken care of, which shocked Cohen because well, she was a woman. He was too busy watching her as he leaned against the fence struggling to breathe. All that he took in with every breath was the fresh iron scent of blood. It was suffocating, it was maddening. “Lennon,” he managed to strangle out. Of course she wasn’t paying attention to him, she currently had a knife to the vampire’s throat.

There was no way that she could survive, and yet she was, pulling a stake out of thin air and driving it through his brethren’s heart. There wasn’t a bit of pain or sadness of course, Cohen had never seen the man before in his life. It did however, answer all of his suspicions. He wasn’t the only vampire walking around this town. He was pretty sure that he was the one walking around during the day, but still. That didn’t give him too much of an advantage.

When her eyes opened, he was right in front of her, breathing hard, eyes dark. He had control though, he kept telling himself. Besides, no part of him wanted to feed off of someone who pulled random stakes out of thin air. “I gotta,” he managed to get out, feeling as if all of the control inside of him was about to snap. “I can’.” Cohen couldn’t even think of trying to act normal. How would a human even react in this situation anyway? Surely there was no wrong nor a right here, and even if there was, his hundred years of living had not helped him prepare for this moment. Sure, he’d seen vampire hunters before, but never in action like that. Never in front of him while they assumed he was a normal human.

There was one thing that Cohen did know. He couldn’t be around Lennon any more. Clearly someone who could fight off a vampire would know the signs to look for. He felt as if he was good at faking human, but now he’d be paranoid and worried. He’d slip up, he knew it.

“I gotta go,” he breathed out hard, backing up slowly from Lennon. “I gotta,” he repeated, knowing he looked and sounded like a complete idiot.

And then he turned and ran. His life depended on it.

For the rest of his time in town, he was going to make sure he never ran into Lennon.

 

[zooka]

Lennon was a bit surprised when he was suddenly right in front of him. She inhaled soft surprise and held it while she tried to figure out... was he worried about her? Was he checking on her? She couldn't be certain, because it had been a bit since anyone had shown that kind of concern for her. Benjamin had left and Devin had changed a lot since he found her hiding under the sink. His heart had hardened over the years, that was for certain. He trained them ruthlessly now out of some combined need to make them the best they could be but also not get too attached if they still got killed anyway.

And that wasn't what was happening anyway. Cohen was just... overwhelmed. Of course, he was. It made sense. He probably had no idea what was going on or what he had just seen and he just needed to get out of there. Lennon's lashes fluttered a bit but she nodded, continuing to hold her breath until he was gone. She exhaled again, sat there for a moment, and then went thorugh her normal routine of checking for identification to bring to the police.

When she was reporting to Devin about the night's activity, she knew she had to tell him that a civilian had witnessed something. He wasn't happy, to say the least. She assured him she already filled in the cops that they might hear from a civilian and they'd handle it how they usually did, but Devin was still mad that she'd slipped up. She lied, though, and said she didn't know him but that she'd keep an eye out and try to... debrief him or whatever. Devin put that on her, she promised she'd handle it, and then she went about her day.

Unfortunately, her day entailed a harder training than usual. It always was when Devin was pissed. She barely got any sleep and Devin didn't go easy on her for it. In fact, he more than capitalized on any openings she left him. They'd been training with bo staffs that day and he smacked her so hard in the side she was surprised it only bruised. And, of course, she still had to go out that night for patrol. A couple of days of sleep deprivation and tender ribs meant that it didn't go great.

She didn't die, but she didn't do well, either.

And Lennon was over it. She didn't go to the police, she didn't call Devin, she just staggered back to her apartment. Night after night, day after day, she was pretty much just fighting as hard as she could and trying not to die. But, eventually, inevitably, she would. She didn't get to have a normal job, a normal father figure, a normal relationship. She couldn't spend more than a day talking with someone nice and interesting like Cohen before this fucked up aspect of her life bled in and ruined it.

And the fucking elevator was still broken.

Her apartment was a loft on the top floor and the prospect of climbing the stairs right now was just too much on top of it all. Her wrist was still killing her, her side was worse now than it was before, there was a gouge in her stomach where she'd nearly gotten stabbed with her own goddamn stake wrestling yet another vampire. There was a cut and forming bruise on her forehead and the crack in her lip still hadn't faded from a couple of days prior. She was a mess and she only made it up about three stairs before she just sank down onto them. She managed to stay sitting, but she leaned back into the railings and squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of tears threatening to burst out of her.

She was just tired. She didn't want to do this anymore.

It wasn't the first time she'd had a breakdown, and it probably wasn't going to be her last. She'd pull herself together eventually, but for now, she had a couple of hours before the sun would rise and people would start coming out of their apartments, so she could just sit in her pathetic heap on the steps for a bit longer before she dragged herself up to the fourth floor.

 

[manatee]

What better way to rid himself from the stress of the night than to down some whiskey? Even after turning, it was one of his favorite things to do. The alcohol didn’t have exactly the same effect, it took him a lot longer to get intoxicated, but he still enjoyed the process. Once he’d ran away and caught his breath, Cohen entered into the first - and probably only - bar that was still open. He’d slid up to the bar, ordered a double shot of whiskey, and motioned that they needed to keep coming.

Cohen still couldn’t process what he’d just witnessed. The girl that he’d shamelessly flirted with wanted him dead. But she didn’t know she wanted him dead. She didn’t know that he was a vampire, he hoped. Actually, he knew she didn’t, or one of them would be dead. That was the thing about vampire hunters, you never could reason with them. He knew that if Lennon ever figured out his secret that she’d never let him live it down. In fact, she wouldn’t even let him live.

He sat at the bar until closing, and then paid for his tab with the sleek piece of plastic before heading back to the apartment. Tomorrow he needed to get a car. A car would make him less obvious, and a car would help him get out to the old mansion. Back home. But would buying a car be obvious? Most of the people he’d seen out earlier in the day had been walking. There had been very few people walking to cars. And after tonight, maybe Cohen didn’t need any extra sets of eyes on him. Clearly there were some people around here who had the same suspicions as him.

As soon as he opened the door to the apartment building, Cohen wanted to turn around and walk right out. There was Lennon, sitting at the top of the stairs, looking like she was about to cry. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Cohen didn’t do well with emotions, and he espeically wasn’t going to do well with the emotions of a vamprire hunter. On top of all of that, she was still bleeding. The stench of her blood and all of her emotions stood in front of him like a wall.

Her eyes were closed, maybe he could walk past her without her knowing. No, that was stupid.There was no way he’d make it up the stairs silently considering the amount of alcohol that was flowing through his veins. He could sure as hell try, though. What would it hurt? Besides, staying away from her was his number one plan for as long as he had to stay here. Hopefully his visit to town would be shorter than he’d planned.

He was almost completely past her on the landing, even though she’d had to know that someone was there. Something was tugging at him, though. Something was telling him that as much as he wanted to be smart and make sure he lived to see another day that he should keep moving, he stopped and turned around.

“Are you alright?”

God, he was such an idiot. He basically was screaming at her to kill him.

 

[zooka]

Suddenly, there was a voice. She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been sitting there when someone was there asking if she was alright. She inhaled sharply through her nose, surprised for a second, and it took her a second to answer. Actually, more than a second. She wasn't really expecting to see Cohen so soon. She kind of expected he'd be... in his apartment or something. Or out of town by now after what he saw. But here he was. Staring at her. And she looked like a mess. This was... embarrassing.

"I..." she shook her head for a second, trying to come up with an explanation, but blanking. "Yeah," she said instead. "Yeah, I'm... fine. Just..." She had no good explanation for why she was sitting on the stairs. Maybe she didn't need one. He'd seen what happened before. He could probably fill in the blanks for how most of her nights went by now. So, she didn't try to give any explanation.

"Tired." It was true enough. She wiped her hand off on her shirt as much as she could. She'd been pressing it into her stomach, which was still bleeding, so she needed to clear that out before she reached out and grabbed the railing to pull herself up. She could follow Cohen at a pathetically slow pace or she could go back down the stairs and have a cigarette out front. Right now, that seemed more appealing than the stairs or facing Cohen for any longer so she was going to go with that.

Or not. The second she got fully standing, she stepped down one stair and about buckled completely. Standing had given her a headrush. She might have lost a little more blood than she thought. Or she had hit her head harder than she thought. Or somewhere in the middle. Either way, she ended up sitting again, though a little more roughly this time and forgot Cohen existed for a moment as her head spun. She dropped her head down into her hands, which she propped up on her knees. She just needed to breathe for a couple of seconds.