Realistic or Modern Transformation

[Acorn]

“Naked? What? She was naked in those pictures?” He feigned shock, gasping and recoiling from Rita. It wasn’t an act he could keep up for long, though. Leon glanced at the phone in his hand, the screen now blank, and then back to Rita with a short, bursty laugh. “Ah shit, there were so many of them. I swear I never thought I’d get to the end.”

Maybe it’d felt longer than it’d really been, since he’d been painfully aware of Rita at his side as he’d scrambled to get through the pictures as quickly as possible. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to see people in compromising positions — most of his jobs were to take pictures of people in compromising positions — but he’d been out of his element when it came to Catherine’s photos. Much like the whole damn case. He’d worked alongside Rita for a brief period time as an Enforcer, had studied to investigate and track people, but he’d never taken on hunting a fellow supernatural on his own before.

“Alright, I’ll talk to Orvar.” Leon leaned into her with his shoulder, then craned to kiss her cheek. “But you’re not plain anything. Don’t think it’s possible.”

~*~
​

“That went well,” Nate observed dryly.

Leon scowled at the other werewolf from his position on the ground. Nate stood with his arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow perched high above the other, while Leon sat cross-legged with his hand clamped on his neck. There was wet warmth seeping through his fingers, but he couldn’t let up on the pressure yet or it’d start pouring blood again.

They’d tracked her to an abandoned shed on the edge of a residential area. With a bag of blood in hand and assurances he didn’t mean her any harm, he just wanted to help, Leon entered the shed. The fledgling, smelling faintly of old blood and a floral perfume, was hunkered in the corner, legs drawn up to her chest and chin resting on her knees. She lifted her dandelion puff head to look at him and sniffled loudly. She didn’t make any other moves beyond that, and it encouraged him to take another step. And another. All the while, he held the blood bag in front of him, a peace offering that her green eyes fixated on until he made a mistake: he mentioned Catherine.

“Catherine sent me,” he said. Taylor’s eyes went from the bag to his face, and instead of hunger and interest, there was hunger and rage. Before he was able to register it fully, she was on him, screaming profanities. He did his best to push her off, but she clung on like lichen to a rock face, and it took Nate running in and prying her off to separate them. Unfortunately, she’d had a mouthful of his neck in her mouth, and the process of ripping her away had also ripped him up.

In the time it took for him to yell at Nate for not checking to see if she was attached first, Taylor had fled. Nate followed, but returned a few heartbeats later and made his astute observation.

“For what it’s worth, she ran towards the bayou instead of back towards all the houses.” Nate held his hand out to him.

Leon sighed, took it, and clamored to his feet. They made a pitstop at his car to slap a bandage on his neck after they’d determined he wouldn’t die anytime soon from the wound, then were off on foot to the bayou with flashlights illuminating their path. At least there, they’d be able to shift if they needed, but Taylor had left enough of a trail as she’d torn through the swamps that he considered it a last resort. She hadn’t seemed out of her mind like Catherine had insisted — not until he’d said Catherine’s name had the fledgling attacked. If that wasn’t telling, he didn’t know what was.

As the night went on, they followed Taylor’s trail, and sometimes she’d stop long enough they were able to catch up, but it didn’t take them long to realize she’d run all the harder when she caught sight or wind of them.

“We need her to come to us,” Nate said. “Bet you a hundred bucks she’d come running if she smelled a human. You should call Rita.”

“I am not asking her to play bait,” Leon snapped.

Nate shrugged. “Guess we’ll catch up when she stops to eat someone, then.”

Leon glowered at him as he reached for the phone in his pocket.

 

[Poe]

Rita was just sitting in bed when Leon called. After a long shower, she’d hunkered down to start thumbing through wedding magazines and making a to-do list. There was so much that needed to happen soon if they were going to manage this sooner rather than later and her mother made that very clear. Rita had called her to pick her brain about the whole thing and all she had done was repeat over and over and over how much easier it would be to plan if she was in New Orleans. To which her father promptly replied to Angela to leave poor Rita alone.

All Rita could do was say goodnight to them and curl up in bed. Leon was supposed to be out for a while and when her phone rang, worry pooled in her chest. She half anticipated hearing Nate’s voice telling her something went wrong, but she certainly did not expect Leon to ask her to come play bait. A bit of excitement bubbled through her to be useful again, but she calmly agreed and asked where they were. It wouldn’t take her long at all, though from the sounds of it Taylor was more elusive than they’d anticipated.

Leaving the wedding magazines out, Rita flung herself out of bed and walked towards their shared closet to grab a pair of jeans and a black tank top, just like old times, before she thumbed through a safe they had at the very bottom of the closet under the clothes. From it she pulled her gun loaded with UV bullets and tucked it in the small of her back. It felt so natural to be geared up even after three years and Rita didn’t waste any time making her way out to the bayou. It took her a moment to find the two by flashlight but when she came up alongside them, Nate gave a toothy grin at her appearance.

“Flashback to old times, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Rita laughed as she came up alongside Leon to take a look at the wound on his neck. The last time they’d gone after a fledgling, he had been attacked as well, but at least he was well bandaged. She moved to press a kiss to his lips before turning to Nate. “So what set her off?”

“Doesn’t seem to want to go back to Catherine,” Nate replied, “Leon said her name and she just snapped. We were real close to coaxing her out, too. Doubt she’ll trust us now.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rita said as she heard a rustle in the trees. Immediately, she drew her gun out and held it down at the ready until a breeze picked up. Rita had no idea how she smelled to supernaturals, but Leon and Orvar had commented on it more than once, so she hoped that Taylor would pick up on it, too. After a moment of eerie silence following the wind, she heard the crackle of a footstep before Taylor was there barreling out of the woods. She stopped though, just feet from Rita when she calmly rose her gun. “You’re going to shoot me?” Taylor spoke, but her voice sounded raw from crying, “a bullet won’t kill me.”

“No,” Rita replied calmly, “Not if I don’t have to and these aren’t normal bullets. They’re UV bullets – one of these and it burns you from the inside out. It seemed like the only way we could talk.”

There was silence and neither of them moved.

“I’m Rita. It’s nice to finally get to meet you, Taylor.”

Another silence.

“I’m not going back,” Taylor spoke finally.

“I’m not here to take you back,” Rita shook her head, “not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t believe you. They said—“

Rita noticed how fidgety Taylor was as she spoke of what Leon and Nate told her. It was clear to Rita in that moment that there was no way they could bring the girl back to Catherine, but she would also never trust Rita. She was terrified, thirsty, and it was almost like watching an addict struggling with intense withdrawal. It was then Rita remembered something Orvar had told her once and she lowered her gun. With slow, gentle steps, Rita approached Taylor and held out her wrist. Wide-eyed, the blonde looked up at Rita who nodded in approval. Taylor moved slowly, but when she came close to Rita’s wrist, she nearly chomped out and elicited a wince from Rita. It was painful, far more painful than Orvar, but that was to be expected, right? Rita lowered herself and Taylor to the ground and tucked the gun in the waist of her jeans before beckoning silently for Nate to bring her the blood bag.

“I trust you, Taylor,” she spoke gently, “I know this isn’t what you wanted and it’s hard to control, but you have to trust me now, okay? If you keep this up, I’ll die. I know you can control it. You have to try.”

Rita brought the tube of the blood bag up towards her wrist in hopes that Taylor would manage to control herself enough to switch to a different source. It took a moment and Rita felt slightly lightheaded, but she felt Taylor’s fangs pull from her skin and clamp onto the blood bag. Despite the bleeding, Rita pulled her wrist slowly away but made no move from Taylor. After a few moments, Taylor looked up at her and her eyes seemed clearer.

“When you don’t drink to kill, there’s a connection,” she informed the young fledgling, “Right now, you can feel everything I do. Can you tell me what I feel, Taylor?”

“Pain,” she said quietly.

“Just a little, but what else?”

She hesitated for a moment, “You want to help.”

“Help who?”

“Me.”

“Right,” Rita said, “Not Catherine. No one but you. Do you think you can trust me enough to let me help you, Taylor?”

She nodded slowly.

“We have a friend, Orvar. He’s like you, but much much older, and he can help you learn to control this. He can help you, but in order to go see him, I need to know that you’re not going to hurt me or my friends, okay?”

Rita helped the girl up and left her with the blood bag. It would and should be enough to satisfy her until they got to Orvar’s. As they rose to their feet, Nate moved to help Taylor to the car and Rita came up alongside Leon. “We can’t let her go back to Catherine,” she exhaled, “I may not know the specifics, but she’s just a kid and she's terrified."

 

[Acorn]

“Heard that one before,” Leon said wryly. Rita had said something similar when she’d played at his heartstrings and convinced him it was wrong to leave Becca behind, and again when they’d encountered Nate in the woods. Just a kid. They had been — both of them. They’d matured so much in the past three years that sometimes Leon forgot what they’d been like when they’d joined them. Becca had been likely to cry at the drop of a hat, more mouse than the fiercely determined woman she was today. And Nate? Leon watched him help Taylor into the car. The careful way he handled her told of a gentle soul, making it difficult to recall what a jackass he’d been when they’d first met.

Leon breathed in deeply, preparing to let loose a sigh, but the air lingered in his lungs when he smelled Rita’s blood. He reached out for and turned her hand over to inspect the two puncture wounds inside her wrist. There wasn’t an outpouring of blood, but there was enough of a flow that he released her to grab the first aid kit from his trunk. The white plastic case was scuffed, but considering the heavy use it’d seen in its time with them, he was surprised it was still in one piece.

“You realize this means I’m not getting paid,” he said, taking up her hand again to begin the process of disinfecting and bandaging the bite marks. “Probably won’t look too good that I don’t do what the clients want, either.” But he hadn’t planned on doing that in the first place, had he? Catherine had wanted him to put Taylor down, and even at the time, he’d told her flatly that he’d make that call.

Leon finished patching RIta up, put away the first aid kit, and returned to her side.

“You’re right, though. We can’t take her back to Catherine. She’d just get loose again, if Catherine didn’t just—“ Leon’s words dried up when he realized Taylor, deflated bag of blood still held up to her mouth, stared right at him through the closed car window. Leon cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sure Orvar will keep her safe.”

What he hadn’t counted on, though, was Orvar's anger. He’d gotten Taylor squared away in one of his basement rooms, a box without windows, that would be her home for the foreseeable future, then returned to them in the sitting room. Leon had sent Nate home to Becca, so it was only him and Rita sitting in their usual spots on the love seat. The vampire paced, wearing a path in the floor near a pair of antique cream-colored chairs and an ornately carved coffee table. At first, he didn’t seem to remember they were there, and spoke in a musical language Leon didn’t recognize; it was strange, because he felt like he understood a word on occasion, but the context was off. The only thing Leon truly recognized was Catherine’s name.

“What language is that?” Leon asked during a lull.

Orvar stopped, spun, and blinked at him. “Swedish, I suppose you could say,” he replied, his accent thicker than usual when he switched back to English. “My apologies. I didn’t realize I was…” He trailed off and ran his hands over his face, pushing his fingers into his hair, but immediately set upon smoothing out his displaced blond locks when he’d realized what he’d done.

“She doesn’t know the position she puts me in. Or perhaps she does and doesn’t care.” Orvar went on to explain that Taylor wasn’t the first fledgling Catherine had created on a whim. “She was instructed to not turn another human without my approval.” The muscles in his broad jaw flared. “In some territories, they would see both sire and fledgling destroyed, but the girl didn’t ask to be turned.”

According to what Taylor had said on the way over, Catherine hadn’t even fully explained what would happen to her before the blood exchange. It wasn't until after that she’d listed the reasons she should be grateful: bullets couldn’t hurt her, she would never sicken again, and she had a chance at living forever if she played her cards right. There were catches, minor ones as Catherine told it — insatiable hunger for blood and the loss of her old life. If she tried to contact her family or friends, tell them what had happened, they wouldn't understand. She might even hurt them by accident.

Taylor had been torn from everything she’d known and loved and she hadn’t been able to even tell anyone goodbye.

“Have you informed Catherine of her whereabouts?” Orvar asked, icy blue eyes flicking from Rita to him and back again.

 

[Poe]

Rita had never expected to see anger flash across Orvar’s face, but there it was plain as day. With Taylor squared away and cared for and Nate back with Becca, the three left behind could finally discuss the problem of Catherine. Rita did not make it her business to get caught up with the vampire part of the supernatural world after Jenny (Orvar excluded) considering she was always at a disadvantage. UV bullets were effective if she could get the element of surprise, but a real vampire could figure their way around it and take her out long before she would see it coming. It wasn’t in her plan to let Taylor feed on her, but Rita had felt for the young girl who had her entire life ripped away. Rita knew something about that even if these past three years had been everything she ever wanted.

She would never forget the feeling of being alone, that deep rooted fear that the pain would never go away. Taylor didn’t have a Leon, either, so Rita felt responsible for finding her some place to go. Maybe they couldn’t heal what Catherine had broken, but at least she would find a place in the world. Then she could start building a life worth living again.

When Orvar spoke, Rita shook her head. “No, but from how she spoke, I don’t think it was her intention for us to bring her back.”

As angry as Rita was, she still knew that there was a connection between her and Taylor and the last thing she wanted to do was give her reason to worry. “She told Leon…well, me I guess, that she thought Taylor was too far gone and that she wanted her ‘put down.’ Even though she wouldn’t talk directly to him, Leon told her he would be the one to make the call. Beyond that we haven’t had any contact with her regarding Taylor’s whereabouts or well-being.”

“Not that Catherine cares.”

It was everything Rita wasn’t. A woman who exploited others for fun and held little to no regard for other life, human or otherwise. She remembered the way Catherine looked at her and spoke to her, it was invasive and strange, but Rita could see how a quieter personality could be pulled in by the attention. If their roles had been reversed, Rita could see how easily Catherine could flick her wrist and have everything she wanted. It didn’t matter who she turned, really, and it was sick that she took pleasure in it. Pleasure in ripping people from their loved ones – people who truly loved them. Rita rubbed absentmindedly at her wrist, which ached far more than Orvar’s bites given the fact that Taylor was a fledgling and hardly had any control.

“I just worry what happens when Catherine knows we have her.”

 

[Acorn]

Orvar watched Rita as she spoke, unmoving except for an occasional blink. When she finished, he reached up to pinch and roll his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, but remained silent. Leon didn’t think he’d ever seen Orvar overtly agitated. Normally, the vampire alternated between two modes: amiable or weirdly vacant. Even when Orvar had cause to be angry — like the time Nate had insulted Rita in front of him and he’d promised to pinch the werewolf’s head off if he disrespected her again — he’d been reptilian in the cold way he’d delivered his threat. Otherwise, it was all smiles and warmth. They’d never been around when Orvar dealt with vampire business, though.

Orvar lowered his hand, sighed, and moved to the chair across from them. Leon had always thought of it as a throne; it was the largest, most plush chair in the room, with big armrests that Orvar draped his arms over. His wrists dangled over the edge, and his long fingers moved as if he played the keys on a piano.

“Hopefully nothing comes of it,” Orvar said. “If she wanted you to destroy the girl, then she was finished with her.”

Leon snorted a laugh. “Sounds like Taylor gave her hell once she woke up. Don’t think Catherine expected that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. She’s impulsive, but she’s also a dreamer. I’m sure she imagined she would be grateful for a chance at eternity with her.”

Sometimes, he had a difficult time wrapping his head around the immortality of vampires. That there was an eventual end to his story made all the moments that led up to it important. What was it like for vampires, where they could live lifetime after lifetime? How did you find meaning in the individual moments when you had so many? Orvar, he knew, had become a philanthropist of sorts, finding meaning in helping others. It allowed him the opportunity to form relationships like the one he had with Rita and Leon, he’d confided once, and though it would seem like the blink of an eye for someone who’d lived over six centuries like Orvar, they were still precious to him. Precious enough that he photographed their every milestone — so he could never forget them, he said.

Leon’s gaze went to Rita as she continued to rub at the place Taylor had bitten her, and he reached over to place his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. Three years and she still jumped at the chance to help others in whatever way she could. In this case, it’d been giving blood to a hungry fledgling to create a mind link. In the moment, it’d caused him to rankle, because he’d only meant for Rita to draw Taylor out, not volunteer to be eaten, but it’d worked out. They’d saved another life at no real cost to theirs.

“Now I’ve just gotta let her know, I guess,” Leon said, “and hope she doesn’t care.” If she did — if she felt like murdering him — he wasn’t sure there was much he could do about it unless he met with her in werewolf form, but then he wouldn’t be able to sign paperwork or well, talk for that matter.

He missed his usual clientele of jilted spouses already.

 

[Poe]

Leon’s squeezed her knee and Rita offered him a gentle smile. It was just heartbreaking to think of what Catherine had done. As much as Orvar’s ideas about eternity were romantic, there was no denying that Catherine changed Taylor selfishly and then tossed her aside as if Taylor had let her down. Rita never had any intention of changing into anything, but she could only imagine how overwhelming the transformation would be. She had seen it before and even after the UV bullets, there was a desperation in Orvar for blood. That kind of life – that kind of eternity – was not something that could just be decided in a moment – not for a girl like Taylor who had a family and life beyond Catherine.

One night in a club with a beautiful woman had changed everything and it was all irreversible.

“Maybe, but she doesn’t get to play God,” Rita said finally, “And what kind of eternity is that? Taylor’s not a dream, she’s a person. A person who got pulled away from her family for the sake of someone else’s pleasure, and then is being tossed aside because she struggled with her transition.”

Rita had seen enough of that. Jenny played God, too. Maybe at some time there was good in Jenny and she certainly didn’t think Catherine was evil, but there was a clear lack of regard for wellbeing. Dreams and impulsivity was fine when it didn’t put lives at risk and that’s what Catherine was doing.

Suddenly there was a flash in her mind. Vivid as the day it happened.

Jenny’s severed head, the pool of blood, her heart beating in her chest so painfully she had to clear her throat. And just like that – it was gone.

After she blinked her eyes, she noted the way Orvar looked at her and brushed it off. “Sorry,” she apologized with a sheepish smile, “Today’s just been a long day. Guess you never really get used to being fed on. Must still be a bit lightheaded. We should probably head home.”

“Thank you, Orvar, for taking her in. I didn't mean to throw this all at you, but I knew she would be safe here. If anything, she at least deserves a chance."

 

[Acorn]

“No need to apologize,” Orvar said, standing as they stood. Leon put his arm around Rita, holding her largely out of concern. He hadn’t thought Taylor had taken much from her before she’d shifted to drinking from the blood bag, but what did he know? Every time vampires got a hold of him, they didn’t take much beyond a sampling before they determined he tasted awful. He still hadn’t figured out what was so bad about his blood, but it was hard to be offended when it meant he didn’t have to worry about vampires hunting him for feeding purposes. Rita, on the other hand, had been fed from at length multiple times now. If she said they needed to go, they needed to go.

Orvar seemed to understand that, too. He stepped closer to them and placed a hand on Rita’s shoulder.

“Get some rest, and try not to worry so much, hm? I’ll care for Taylor as long as she requires. As you say, she deserves a chance, and I plan on providing her that.” He smiled, and once the vampire relinquished his hold on Rita, Leon steered them from the old mansion and to his car.

Not knowing if Catherine would be pissed about Taylor’s fate left Leon with a tightness in his chest. He checked the rearview mirror constantly as he drove the short distance home. As he walked into the house with Rita, he glanced over his shoulder but didn’t feel his anxiousness abate until he’d closed and locked the door behind them.

They’d had three years of peace — three years of not being involved with the supernatural except for the inconvenience of his biweekly runs in the bayou. Now he’d invited it back into their lives, thinking it’d be a way to make a difference, but the only difference was that he’d been nervous walking into his own home. Catherine was much younger than Orvar was, according to the records the elder vampire kept on his kind, but on two separate occasions, he’d had a baby vampire take him out. Rita had her UV bullets and he could shift into a half-man, half-wolf creature that stood some chance against the speed, strength, and bloodlust of a vampire, but caught unprepared and they’d be just as fucked as anyone else.

He didn’t protest when Rita didn't put her gun away before they got into bed.

~*~
​

The next day, he went off to work with a coffee thermos and the rest of his files. He’d entertained working from both home and his new office, but Orvar had been right: it was best to keep his new clientele away from where they lived. It probably wouldn’t be hard for someone determined enough to follow him from one place to the other, but there was no sense making it easier than it already was.

Nate was as insufferable as Rita had figured, dropping mention of his new office any opportunity he got. It gave him more satisfaction than it should’ve to drop a thick stack of files on Nate’s desk; the glare he’d received had only intensified when he mentioned in an offhanded manner that it must be nice to have an office to himself to do all his paperwork. He’d escaped laughing from the room after Nate balled up a piece of paper and lobbed it at him.

He spent the rest of the day and most of the evening reviewing old case files and settling into his new office, and was so absorbed with the task that the buzz of his phone startled him. It wasn’t a number he recognized, but the cooing, honey-sweet voice, was.

“Darling, have you any news of my wayward fledgling?”

Catherine. He lifted the phone from his face to exhale loudly.

Here went nothing.

He explained the prior night’s events in detached detail, slipping into a way of speaking that was entirely without inflection.

There was a long enough silence after he finished that he thought she might’ve hung up, but before he could ask if she was still there, Catherine spoke. Her voice was bright, and he could tell she smiled without seeing her.

“I’m delighted she’s taken care of, but you really should’ve brought her to me. Poor Orvar, he already does too much.” She clicked her tongue, and Leon was grateful she couldn’t see him roll his eyes. “But listen to me, talking when you surely have other business to attend to. I’ve submitted payment to your account. Have a wonderful night, Mr. Alvarez.”

He blinked at his phone after she disconnected the call. She hadn’t sounded angry and she’d paid him for his time. It was unexpected but not unwelcome news.

Leon stopped at Nate’s office on his way out. The other werewolf at least had the decency to look guilty as he took his feet off the desk and sat up in his chair. He shook his head and tossed the office key at his desk.

“Catherine paid us. Gonna take Rita out for dinner to celebrate. Lock up on your way out.”

Nate took the key and frowned. “When do I get dinner? I was there, too.”

“When you finish that paperwork,” Leon laughed. Nate scoffed, but at least this time he didn't throw a paper ball at him as he left.

 

[Poe]

Over the years, Rita had learned to trust her instincts. Maybe she wasn’t a werewolf or vampire or powerful witch, but she had developed her own sort of senses. She knew when something was wrong, when there was something on the horizon, and when she woke the next morning with the same feeling of dread she had felt when she visualized Jenny, she almost called out of work. But she had long since convinced herself that the guilt and trauma from what they endured could not be allowed to control their lives. They deserved normalcy – a life beyond the facility and being hunted.

They had been a beautiful three years, but she also knew that it was a part of them. Leon was a werewolf and Rita just wasn’t the woman she was before she met Leon. It was impossible to go back to that woman and she was starting to feel it. She loved worked for the charity but there was something about holding her gun last night and helping someone. Someone who, honestly, didn’t exist to the rest of the world. There weren’t charities to help supernaturals, or access to people who could help them, so she understood why his new investigating job was so important to Leon.

She just didn’t expect to feel this way after fighting for so long to be normal.

Rita slipped into a little black dress for a work luncheon and clicked her heels against the New Orleans sidewalk. Hours and hours of conversation with men and woman who had everything they wanted and for the first time Rita doubted what she did – but she shook it away. All the excitement was just getting to her and she couldn’t stop thinking of Catherine and Taylor. It was so distracting, in fact, that Rita ended up clocking out just a bit early for the sake of going home and curling up in one of Leon’s shirts and working on their wedding. That was sure to put her mind right.

The sun had set by the time she was walking home from the trolley stop and she felt a pair of eyes on her. It was a sinking feeling that caused her steps to slow, but when she finally stopped, she turned to see Catherine there standing before her. The woman was scantily clad per usual with a toxic sweet smile. Just a few steps off, she saw a car waiting, windows tinted near opaque but Rita kept her attention on the vampire before her. “Catherine,” she breathed out, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

[Acorn]

“The pleasure is mine,” Catherine said, moving forward with delicate, precise steps because vampire or not, gravity would take over if one moved too quickly in six-inch heels. Like the night before, Catherine had donned a tight, black dress with a plunging neckline, though this one also exposed her midriff. Her makeup was heavy, her long hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, but she would be carded at every club she didn’t charm her way into. How amusing it would be if they knew how old she really was. She’d been eighteen when she’d been turned some two-hundred years ago, and she’d looked fresh-faced and youthful enough to pass for one even younger. He’d liked that about her. Ma poupée. His doll.

Insufferable man.

“I would say I was passing by and just happened to see you, but your fiancé informed me dear Taylor had been tended to, and a promise is a promise.” She tilted her chin just so, exposing the length of her neck; it was one of her finer attributes, her long neck. She often adorned it with jewels to draw the eye, but tonight she’d forgone jewelry for a smokey eye and a bright red lip. She wanted her gaze on her face.

“I want to take you dancing.”

A buzzing sound came from the bag on Rita’s shoulder and Catherine clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth when she withdrew her phone. Before Rita could do more than look at the screen, Catherine held her hand out imperiously and wiggled her finger in a summoning gesture. “Let me see,” she said, once Rita’s startlingly green eyes fixed on hers. Her words were more than a suggestion, they were infused with a desire to obey, a dampening of doubt and mistrust. Of course she should give her phone to Catherine. Why wouldn’t she? Once the device was in her hand, her long eyelashes lowered along with her eyes and she smiled widely to see none other than Mr. Alvarez’s photo fill the screen. He really was quite the specimen, with his curly mop of dark hair, warm brown eyes, and strong, masculine features. They made a beautiful pair, Rita and Leon.

“Tell him you need to work late,” she said, her words again compelling Rita to obey, “and you’re not sure when you’ll be home.”

She returned Rita’s phone to her and waited.

 

[Poe]

Compulsion.

Somewhere along the line, Rita had heard the term but it didn’t even register in her mind until she heard Catherine’s demand. Tell him you need to work late. Rita tried to open her mouth to protest, but she reached for her phone to answer the call instead. There was no protest then, just warm loving words from Rita’s mouth that she never intended to speak. “Hey,” she answered, “I’ve gotta work late tonight. Any chance for a rain check? Okay. Mhm. I love you too. I’ll see you soon.”

I’ll see you soon.

Those were the last words Chase spoke to her, too.

Once her phone was settled back into her bag, she looked up at Catherine with strong willed eyes. She had played this game before, danced this exact same dance, and suffered at the hand of Lorelei time and time again. Rita Alvarez did not take well to being controlled, not even a little bit. “Usually you would ask to take someone dancing,” she said and glanced up at Catherine through her thick lashes, “But I suppose you can afford to be too forward when you know your target can’t say no.”

“Unless I’m reading this wrong, of course.”

But she knew she wasn’t. Taylor was out of her mind now and Catherine was setting her sights on Rita instead. Perhaps it was revenge, or an eye for an eye, or maybe she just found something in the beautiful young woman that drew her attention. Whatever it was, Rita was standing face to face with a vampire who had no intention of letting her go and she knew there were two ways to face this – but Rita was unarmed, clad in heels and a little black dress, and had no way to contact Leon or Orvar. Disobeying Catherine was not an option, not if she wanted to see Leon again.

But hell, was she the wrong human for Catherine to fuck with and that was apparent when Catherine looked at her again with the intention of demanding for Rita to follow her to the car with her smooth, melodic voice. But this time Rita had her bearings and she looked back at Catherine with an equally powerful gaze. “As I’ve said before, I appreciate the attention,” Rita said and took a step towards Catherine but continued to fight against her commands to get in the car, “but I have no intentions of dancing tonight. I can assure you that.”

 

[Acorn]

The driver, a man in a suit and one of the fantastic little hats she’d insisted he wear, removed himself from the car and opened a back door for them. Catherine stood in front of the car, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as Rita fought her compulsion. Most of the girls she pursued didn’t fight her at all. Rarely did she need to compel anyone to do her bidding — she usually only needed to say a few sweet words and they clamored to please her, if only to earn a few more. Taylor, just a few nights ago, had hopped into her car as soon as the suggestion had been made. Not once in their nights together had she needed to stoop to compulsion.

Rita, on the other hand, striking and fierce, had snubbed her from the start and continued to do so. Compliments had been acknowledged but disregarded, and now she struggled successfully against her compulsions. What a fascinatingly frustrating creature. Perhaps it was time for a new tactic.

“No intentions of dancing tonight?” Catherine shook her head, sending her long ponytail sailing. “There’s a new club opening tonight and I need a date.” She tilted her head towards one shoulder, pouted, and fluttered her eyelashes at Rita. “I can’t go alone.” Rita had stopped moving entirely by that point, and seemed unfazed by the dilemma Catherine faced. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she huffed a small sigh through her nose.

“Come now, at the pace you’re going, we won’t get there before they close for the night. Get in the car.” Again, her command was woven with a desire to do her bidding, but Rita only took another step before she came to a defiant stop. Catherine’s patience, limited as it was, had run out, and she strode forward to grasp Rita’s wrist in her hand — a steel trap with red lacquered fingernails. She knew of ancient vampires who'd commanded whole groups of humans and had waged wars with their mesmerized troops. Unfortunately, she had a long ways to go until she reached that level of power, so stronger-willed humans like Rita sometimes required more than mental nudging to do her bidding.

“In we go now,” she chirped, bodily tossing Rita into the backseat before she slid in behind her. “To Club Zero,” Catherine proclaimed, once her driver had returned to his seat.

 

[Poe]

Rita knew that fighting was useless, just as it had been with Lorelei, but Rita was not someone who enjoyed having someone else in her own head. It had taken her a long time to sort through all the shit over the past few years and she had done a damn good job of it, but having someone else poking around ignited something in her she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since Lorelei, not since Jenny, not since the feeling of watching everyone she loved tortured or killed nearly broke her. Instead, Catherine had to resort to physically tossing Rita into the back seat.

Appearance aside, Catherine certainly had the strength of a vampire and there wasn’t a single thing Rita could do to fight against her. Not when she didn’t have anyone for backup or a gun. God, a few UV bullets would do her some good. Rita glanced up when they were both shut in the car and watched as they zoomed down New Orleans streets to a swanky little club with a line that snaked around the corner. Even in college, Rita had never really been into the club scene, but she knew club openings were only reserved for select guests. Catherine didn’t seem like a woman who took well to being less than “select.”

Rita’s wrist ached from where she had grabbed her, irritating the skin where Taylor had fed on her the day before. She held herself well, though. Smoothing her dress out, she glanced over at Catherine with her intense green eyes. “Well, I suppose throwing someone into a car is one way to get a date.”

When they arrived, Catherine didn’t waste any time with compulsion as her fingers latched powerfully around Rita’s wrist. There wasn’t anything Rita would physically try because she didn’t have a death wish. It never left her mind that despite Catherine’s demeanor, all it would take was one flick of her wrist and Rita’s life was at risk. They were let in easily and Rita felt the pulse of the music ache through her body. What surprised her most, however, was the way Catherine bypassed the dance floor and led her to a private seated section and they were let through the ropes with the wave of Catherine’s hand.

“I thought you wanted to dance,” Rita remarked with a bit of snark, “Unless that’s not the only reason you brought me here and since I’m sensing a pretty unconventional kidnapping, what are the odds I can get my hands on a whiskey double on the rocks?”

 

[Acorn]

The booth they sat at was curved and centered around a small, circular table. Atop it, several lit candles flickered a warm light that only accentuated the soft lines of Rita’s face. Despite her ugly expression, she still managed to be beautiful. With the combination of her big, almost unnaturally green eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips, was it possible for her to be anything but? Rita had a face that could easily find its way into magazines or onto billboards, convincing the masses to purchase whatever she posed next to. What a pity it would be to see her face marred by the lines of age.

Catherine leaned forward to prop an elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. “I’m surprised by your concern. I thought you had no intentions of dancing,” she said, eyebrows arching. “Don’t fret, we’ll dance after refreshments.” She gestured at a passing waiter and ordered Rita’s whiskey double on the rocks. When he returned with the drink, Catherine darted her hand out to grab and pull him into the booth next to her. He protested, saying he was on the clock and had other tables to serve, but Catherine shushed him and kissed the inside of his wrist.

All the influence she’d exerted — attempted to exert — over Rita had depleted her resources, leaving her peckish and in need of a snack. She mouthed the tender skin inside the man’s wrist, feeling his pulse just beneath with her lips, then sank her fangs in. As soon as she withdrew them, warm blood surged into her mouth and she maneuvered her lips to ensure none of it escaped. Her eyes fluttered shut as she fed, but they shot open again when Rita exclaimed at her. She didn’t let that deter her, though. Rita had her drink, and she had hers. After a couple dozen swallows, she loosened her vice grip on the man and kissed the inside of his wrist tenderly. When the blood flow had slowed to a trickle, she lifted her head and smiled lazily.

“Look at me,” she commanded, and he obeyed. “Be a darling and forget what I did, would you?” He nodded slowly. Catherine beamed at him. “Very good. Off with you.”

And so he went.

“Now, where were we?” Catherine wiped the corners of her mouth with her thumb, then licked away the traces of blood she’d found there. “Ah, yes. Dancing. Finish your drink and we’ll dance.”

 

[Poe]

Catherine was an interesting creature, to be sure. Despite everything predatory in her gaze, she elected to feed on their waiter. Of course Rita couldn’t stifle a firm what the fuck but Catherine seemed unmoved by the outburst and simply continued to drink as though they were both holding glasses filled to the brim with expensive liquor. And it was expensive liquor. All it took was one whiff of the whiskey in her hand to know it was far from the decent bottles her and Leon had at home and reached far more into the immaculate bottles Orvar allowed them to dip into time and time again. It was a whiskey that was meant to be sipped, but Rita took a few sips in succession and let the burn ease the discomfort in her.

It never showed, but it was there bubbling inside of her. What about Leon? How would he react when she wasn’t there tonight? Would he know where to look? Was it more dangerous for him to come after her with a vampire like Catherine involved?

It wouldn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter who or what had their claws in or on Rita because Leon had fought for her every single day for the last three years – and certainly before that back when they first met. Werewolves, vampires, witches – none of it mattered because she would have done the same for him. She wondered if Catherine was betting on that, but she had to be. She didn’t seem like too much of a slow study and Orvar had once told Rita and Leon that their love was palpable. It was strong, bright and carried its own power when they were together.

Catherine wanted something – that much was clear.

“Feels a bit like we’re already dancing,” Rita hummed as she took another sip of her whiskey and reveled in the burn on the way down. “Considering I keep asking why I’m here and you delicately twist your words to divert attention somewhere else.”

 

[Acorn]

“You give me more credit than you should, love.” Catherine’s words had slowed to a trickle. Fresh blood and music thrumming through her, she’d started to feel more milk-drunk kitten than vampire. Warm. She was so warm. The feeling wouldn’t last for long, it never did, and Rita seemed intent upon ruining her moment. She slumped back against the booth and sighed deeply.

“Is it so hard to believe I only wanted your company for the night?” Question answered, Catherine’s eyes slipped shut and she smiled contentedly. She felt, rather than saw, Rita’s hard stare and she opened one eye, then the other, and blinked several times in quick succession. “Fine,” she said, pushing herself up from her slumped position. “Mr. Alvarez gave away something of mine, so I took something of his. It’s not terribly complicated.”

The werewolf had disregarded her instructions and taken her fledgling — her mistake — to Orvar. Orvar: the very vampire who’d sat her down in his ridiculously outdated sitting room, and made it clear that under no circumstance was she to turn another human without his approval. She’d promised she wouldn’t, and she’d meant it at the time, but promises were easy to forget in a blood haze. Orvar, with his love of sucking old blood from plastic bags, would never understand. He’d wouldn’t forgive her, either. Not this time. He’d said so. She’d be punished. He hadn’t said how, but she had an active imagination and past experiences to build upon. He’d probably lock her away again, but this time he wouldn’t give her blood from bags to choke down, and he probably wouldn’t let her out. She’d wither away, mummify, and he’d leave her like that for all eternity.

Catherine shuddered. There went her buzz.

Eventually, another buzz took up its place. The club practically vibrated with a combination of pounding music and bodies that pressed together on the dance floor, but she still heard it: Rita’s phone. She thought to have Rita answer again and make another excuse for her lateness, but Rita worked at a respectable charity; it was doubtful they met at clubs, and the music would be unmistakable.

“Don’t answer that,” she demanded, adding compulsion to her words, but she worried Rita was immune to her now. She slid around the curved booth and didn’t stop until her thigh was pressed against Rita’s. “Better yet, give me your phone.” She held her hand out and smiled toothily.

 

[Poe]

With the fresh blood in her system, Catherine's compulsion weaseled its way through Rita's veins. She'd heard her phone, too. No doubt it was far too late for Leon to assume she was just out working. Something was wrong, he could sense it and she knew, but Catherine was quick. With a defiant huff and a strangled attempt to disobey, Rita's hand slid to her phone and she pulled it out only to hand it to Catherine. Once the command was followed, it was like the jerk motion at the end of a roller coaster. It felt as though she had been swimming against the current and the moment she complied it was gone, everything but the mental exhaustion. Once her phone was out of her hand and Catherine close by, Rita reached for her drink and downed it.

She hated this. She hated feeling out of control but there was literally nothing she could do. They were in a public place and so long as Catherine made no move to physically harm her, she couldn't cause a scene. She couldn't fight back.

All she could do was hope that Leon came for her, but she knew he would. Deep down there wasn't a single doubt in her mind he would.

"So I'm what -- a bargaining chip? Because you know the moment Leon finds out where I am and who I'm with, Orvar won't be far behind and it doesn't seem like you two dance together often." On the contrary, the only time Rita had seen anger on Orvar's face was when they had mentioned Catherine's name but that was to be expected. She was a wildfire and it was his job to contain it for the sake of the supernatural community -- and for Catherine's sake. "I mean, it's your plan obviously but I would just think before you tread into this fire because something tells me that the whole eye for an eye thing is just going to leave you blind."

Rita sighed as the waiter brought her another drink and she sipped at it, "Will you answer one question for me, though? While we're here anyway, before we dance."

"Did Taylor actually want to change? Or did you decide for her?"

 

[Acorn]

Catherine held the phone out as it continued to vibrate and peered down at Leon’s picture. He was just as attractive as she remembered, but she hadn’t paid attention to his smile until now. She hadn’t thought him capable of smiling at all, given how he’d frowned and scowled at her last night, much less smiling like that. It was a private smile, one likely reserved for RIta. No wonder she’d made it his contact photo. It probably sent a little thrill through her every time she looked at it. She was sorely tempted to hit the red circle to stop the buzzing early, but allowed the call to play through so he wouldn’t be sent to voicemail too early.

Rita’s leg was warm against her cold one, and she reached down to rest her equally cold palm just above Rita’s knee. What was it like to be that warm all the time? She’d forgotten. Only minutes after feeding on a human and she went from lukewarm to probably dead, send her to a morgue. She’d absorb some heat from the points of contact she had with Rita, but it would fade away just as soon as the contact ended. Trying to warm her was like trying to warm a concrete slab by lying naked on it — you’d grow cold long before it grew warm.

The phone buzzed again, but before she could satisfy her curiosity and listen to the message he’d left, Rita cast a line she had no choice but to nibble at.

“A bargaining chip?” Catherine giggled. “Do I strike you as a woman with a plan?” Her tone was teasing, but if Rita watched closely enough, she might see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. Initially, there hadn’t been a plan — she’d been angry with the werewolf investigator, wanted to punish him for forcing her into an eventual confrontation with Orvar, so she’d taken Rita. She was beautiful, there was no doubt of that, but even if she hadn’t been, Catherine would’ve taken her. Just not to a club opening. They would’ve gone somewhere private, where she wouldn’t be seen with a homelier companion.

“And besides, I’m not worried about a werewolf, especially one that can’t even manage a nights old fledgling without getting bitten.” She held her chin up defiantly as she continued, “Orvar, either. He’s all bluster.” The lie fell easily from her red lips, and she even managed a little smile to give it weight. Rita might suspect the truth, she’d had enough dealings with the elder vampire, but Catherine wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was terrified of the man who’d never broken a promise he’d made. She sniffed delicately and lowered her head to focus on the phone again. There were several new notifications, text messages — Are you still at work? Are you okay? Please answer. Before she could dig any further, the waiter arrived with Rita’s top shelf whiskey, and then she followed up with her question about Taylor with an offer to dance if she answered.

“She didn’t want to die,” she hedged. Another hard stare from Rita. Catherine huffed. “I got carried away and she was in and out of consciousness. She would’ve died if I hadn’t given her my blood. She should be grateful, but no, she screamed and cried and acted like I’d done her some great disservice after she woke. I saved her. I gave her eternity if she wants it. I should’ve let her die, then Orvar wouldn’t have reason to...“ Catherine broke off and smiled tightly. “Well, he certainly wouldn’t have reason to be angry with me, now would he?”

 

[Poe]

It was an answer she anticipated, but Rita didn’t expect to feel sympathy for Catherine.

She was difficult and impulsive. She had little regard for others in the grand scheme of things, but Rita also couldn’t help but wonder how easy it was to judge her when Rita wasn’t the one making the call on Taylor’s life. There was no doubt in Rita’s mind that she was at fault for Taylor’s death, but she understood the sentiment. With a kinder glance, Rita looked over at Catherine as her hand settled on Rita’s thigh. It was chilled, enough to elicit goosebumps from her skin.

“It’s a difficult call to make,” Rita admitted after her took a long sip of her whiskey, “Before Leon, I – well, someone I loved was killed and it’s hard to not buy into immortality when death is so absolute. I thought for so long about what lengths I would have gone to in order to bring him back.”

“But we have to live with our choices. There are things I have done that I know were done from the most selfless part of my heart – but they still have the power to haunt you. Selfless or not. I can’t imagine living with that for an eternity, to be honest.”

Maybe Orvar would snap on Catherine, but there was something in Rita that empathized with the woman. It seemed that all her years did not give her an understanding of responsibility and that had to be difficult to learn when she could have anything she wanted with the flick of her wrist or bat of her eyelash. She was young at heart, there was no doubt about that.

Her phone just kept buzzing and Rita tried not to turn her attention to it. All she wanted was to go home, to be curled up in bed with Leon and not in the middle of the mess between Catherine and Orvar. There wasn’t an easy way for her to get in contact with them, but then she remembered. Taylor. If Rita could manage to use their connection in some way, maybe Orvar would be able to – yes. That was it. Rita took another sip of whiskey and let her eyes close as she exhaled. In a split second, she forced herself to feel everything Taylor had felt when they’d found her. Fear, uncertainty, anger.

She had to feel it and if she knew Orvar, he had to be near with a willing ear for the young vampire. Then he could call Leon and soon the two would manage to track her down. It was a last ditch effort, but it seemed like her only shot. After a moment, she fluttered her eyes open and exhaled. Her nimble fingers brushed the brown locks from her green eyes and she took a good look at Catherine. She just needed to buy time.

“But a bluster and an incompetent werewolf?” Rita laughed, “I would hate to know what you really think of me.”

 

[Acorn]

Catherine snorted indelicately at Rita’s assessment of immortality. She spoke as if death was something to look forward to, a way to part with all one’s sins. A better alternative was to not acknowledge sin or feel guilt in the first place. She lived her life as she saw fit and she didn’t apologize for any of it. Taylor’s death wasn’t regrettable, her inability to cope with her new, vampiric life was regrettable. They could’ve moved on together, left New Orleans for another sanctuary, one far away from her family so she wouldn’t feel a pressing need to see them — or if she did feel the need and couldn’t fight it, she’d be far enough away that it’d be an impossible journey to make.

Instead, she’d fought and spat at her, screamed insults and sobbed until she dry heaved. It’d been a terrible thing to witness, the transformation of a beautiful, graceful creature into a feral monster that needed to be put down. Through their blood bond, Catherine had felt Taylor’s hatred of her, but the connection went both ways: Taylor had known the very moment Catherine had decided to put her down, and she’d fled. If she concentrated, she could feel her vaguely, like a shadow of a thought in the farthest recesses of her mind, but she had no desire to feel anything the ungrateful little wretch felt.

There were other things — closer things — of more interest.

Rita hadn’t shoved her hand away, and though she suspected her multiple drinks had something to do with the genial way she looked at her, Catherine didn’t mind. So what if it was alcohol’s doing? It only meant more drinks would further improve her mood. Although Rita wasn’t finished with her current whiskey, she caught the waiter’s eye and gestured for a refill.

“What I really think of you?” She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Nothing so terrible, I assure you. I heard rumors of a woman who single-handedly took down none other than Dr. Jenny, The Horrible Bitch. I didn’t believe them, because well, that’s just absurd. A human killing a vampire? Now that I’ve met you,” she reached up with her free hand to delicately brush her fingers down the length of her neck, “I only hope you don’t decide to separate my head from my shoulders.”

She continued to ply Rita with drinks and flirted to her heart’s content, enjoying herself so much that she’d entirely forgotten the circumstances that’d brought them together until she heard a man’s voice over the music and the crowd.

“Rita!”

~*~
​

Entering the club sent him reeling. Even before he’d been attacked by a werewolf and all his senses had been permanently dialed up, he’d disliked clubs. They were too noisy, too crowded, too much. When he’d hit legal drinking age, it’d been more likely to find him at the local dive bar. The same held true for him now, though he was more likely to be found at a nice, quiet restaurant with some wine, or at home with a tumbler of whiskey. Fortunately, Rita was of the same mind, so he was always in good company.

Rita. The thought of her made him fight past the overload, and the cold hand that landed on his shoulder only helped. He glanced back at Orvar, who nodded at him, then lifted his chin towards what he assumed was a VIP section. It was roped off, and all the booths were a notch higher than the main floor. All who sat there were on display as more important than everyone else. Separate and above.

It meant he spotted Rita almost as soon as he started scanning the booths for her. Catherine was coiled around her like a boa constrictor. He called out Rita’s name as he surged forward with no thought to the bodies he pushed through. There were cries of protest, but he didn’t hear them. Leon ducked under the thick velvet rope, and a burly man his height but twice his girth, started towards him and he planted his feet and prepared an excuse for being there, but a honeyed voice called for restraint.

“It’s alright. He’s with me,” Catherine said and wiggled the fingers that weren’t stroking Rita’s upper arm at him. The bouncer stood down, and Leon with long strides and a scowl, moved to their booth.

“Rita? Did she hurt you?” His mouth pursed and nostrils flared, he pinned Catherine with a look that promised violence if Rita answered in the affirmative.

 

[Poe]

“Well you’ve managed to catch me unarmed. It’s been a long time since Jenny.”

Rita had to keep reminding herself that Catherine in her mind wasn’t Lorelei. Rita didn’t stand a chance unarmed against Catherine, that much as clear, but the feeling of sitting there at the mercy of another made her skin crawl. All she could do was sip on the whiskey Catherine continued to beckon over to the table and hope that she would be distracted enough by Rita’s companionship to lose track of time. Rita’s plan needed time to weave its way through Taylor, Orvar and Leon. It was a lot of faith to put in only a few people but Orvar had always protected her when she needed it and Leon would never leave if there was an inkling that he could find her.

What ate away at her, though, was the reminder of who she had been. Was this who she was now? A bargaining chip? A damsel? No, no she always fought back but this battle had nothing to do with her. It had to do with an argument between Catherine and Leon as well as a long-rooted disagreement between Catherine and Orvar. They were werewolves and vampires while she was just simply a human. She was not the Rita everyone remembered toting guns and fighting a sea of enforcers – no, she was just a businesswoman in a pair of expensive heels and a flattering black dress who spent her free time planning a wedding and convincing rich men to write checks. After severing Jenny’s head, Rita had torn herself from this life.

There were honest and good reasons too – her fiancé, her home, her life – but she also pulled away because in that moment of nearly losing Leon, she had done something she never thought she was capable of. Potential was exciting until it exceeded too much too fast and then it was like a blur. One minute she was Rita and the next she was a scorned woman severing the head of another with her bare hands. Even three years later, it was a lot to stomach.

The drinks were not enough to get her drunk, but Rita had a comfortable buzz going to quell her anxiety as Catherine poured more and more attention into her. It was all shallow flirting, but it kept Catherine’s eyes on her and that’s all that mattered. Out of nowhere, Rita heard a familiar voice call out and her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Just as she had anticipated, Leon and Orvar were making their way towards the VIP booth and Leon looked pissed. His words came quick with both genuine concern for her and a deep-rooted hatred for Catherine. Her own eyes spoke of not being hurt – yet – but there seemed to be a clear understanding in the room that Catherine held the power so long as Rita was within her grasp. “Leon,” she breathed out relieved, I—“

As Rita tried to stand and move from the booth, she felt Catherine’s powerful grip yank her back down to the seat beside her. One hand held her wrist with a vice grip and the other hand still danced over whatever exposed skin she could get her long fingers on. She was a bargaining chip after all. Rita hadn’t lost her touch.

 

[Acorn]

When he’d called Rita to invite her to dinner, he’d been disappointed that she’d had to decline, but he’d understood. There’d been more nights than one that he’d had to call and let her know he’d be late or had to cancel plans because of work. While it was more common for him than Rita, given the unpredictable nature of his job, and her ability to plan her own hours, he’d returned home and eventually went to bed knowing she’d be there when she could. It wasn’t until he’d woken up later in the night and the spot next to him in bed was empty and his phone absent of any updates from her that worry settled heavy in his gut like freshly poured concrete.

That feeling remained until he stood in front of her at the club and, relief palpable in her voice, said his name. His expression immediately softened and he reached his hand out for her as she stood. She'd be okay. They could go home now and Orvar could deal with Catherine. But Catherine had other ideas. All his fears and worry came rushing back and his expression hardened again when Catherine pulled Rita away from him.

“Let her go,” he growled, but Catherine only tightened her hold on Rita and looked up at him with a simpering smile. She had no intentions of letting Rita go. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He knew the capabilities of a vampire intimately. In his werewolf form, he’d been able to take hits from even an elder — albeit weakened — vampire, but when he’d been forced back into human form by a witch’s spell, Jenny had tossed him around like a rag doll and proceeded to fuck his world up. She’d cracked his skull, broken countless bones, and he would’ve died from all the injuries if it hadn’t been for Becca healing him.

“I swear to God, Catherine, if you don’t let her go now, I’ll—“ Catherine interrupted him with a laugh.

“You’ll what? Attack me?” The vampire slid her hand from Rita’s arm to her neck, wrapped her fingers around her throat and Leon’s heart stopped. “If I squeeze hard enough, I’ll crush her throat. I’d really rather not — it’s a lovely throat, but if you push me, I will, Mr. Alvarez.”

Leon breathed hard. The dim lights in the club were suddenly painfully bright. He could smell everything: blood on Catherine, sweat from the bodies on the dance floor, and the whiskey on Rita’s breath. Pounding music reverberated around in his head until it felt like his eardrums would burst under the pressure. Shit. He couldn’t shift there. As bad as a fight would be in public, it’d be a thousand times worse if he transformed in the middle of a packed club on its opening night. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying his best to push the beast back down while Catherine laughed at him again.

If he hadn’t been caught up in a battle to stay in his human form, Leon would’ve taken a great amount of satisfaction out of seeing the dark-haired vampire’s eyes widen in fear when she realized Orvar had entered the VIP area.

“He’s not with me,” she said, and the bouncer moved to the tall man, hands in fists and his head cocked to the side.

“She’s mistaken,” Orvar said. The bouncer froze. “Move aside, sir.” He did.

“Catherine, you will remove your hands from Rita this instant,” the vampire said once he'd drawn close. Leon could barely hear him over the buzz of the club, the music, and his own heartbeat in his head.

"I will not," she said, and scooted even closer to Rita, eliminating what little space had been between them. Her hand remained wrapped around Rita's throat.

A standoff, then.

 

[Poe]

Rita seized up a bit at the feeling of a hand gripping her throat. Her breath wasn’t stolen, but instead the pressure of Catherine’s hand on her neck caused her spine to straighten. It wasn’t enough to crush her throat, but she didn’t doubt that Catherine would go so far as to kill her right here, right now. Catherine may have found her beautiful, but Rita was no different. She was a pretty amusing distraction until she became too troublesome.

Leon and Orvar both stood powerfully but in two vastly different manners. Orvar was straightened almost razor sharp and his face was hardened in a way she hadn’t seen before while Leon stood with his chest puffed out as he edged a transformation. Shit. They were in a club full of humans and if he were to change – no. Catherine was not endangering Rita’s life, the lives of those around them, and revealing supernaturals to the world. “Alright,” Rita breathed out after a moment, “How about we take a second here before anyone goes crushing throats.”

She tilted just enough against Catherine’s hand to take a long sip of her whiskey before setting it down to the best of her ability. The tension was so palpable it was difficult to wade through, but Rita did her best – as she always did. “You may want to rethink this,” Rita said as she flickered her green eyes over to Catherine, but they held a powerful truth, “Because the closer you come to crushing my throat, the harder it is for my fiancé to control his transformation, and if he turns – regardless of whether or not you crush my throat – you’re going to be facing two entirely different beasts.”

While Orvar didn’t seem like a beast, Rita knew there was a strength in him that had fought to live for centuries upon centuries.

“Not only that, but then you’ve just revealed your existence to the world. It’s just a lot to go through for a point. I think the four of us here understand the situation,” she breathed out, “So how about a ceasefire? You let go of me and you get out with your life? Because at the rate you’re going, if you go through with this, you won’t walk out of here tonight.”

Catherine’s eyes found hers before they found Leon and Orvar’s as she read their reaction to the possible crossfire. There wasn’t really a way for Catherine to get out of here without facing Orvar, but maybe all she needed was a promised survival. Her long fingers tightened on Rita’s throat until Rita couldn’t breathe and looked back up at the men.

If Rita could read her right and this was going to be a deal, Catherine needed to hear their acceptance first. But it seemed like she had no desire to wait too long for an answer. Time was ticking.

 

[Acorn]

After he’d called and texted Rita and she hadn’t answered, when he’d started to suspect something might’ve happened to her, his phone had buzzed and he’d practically leaped on it. His hopes were dashed when he realized it was Orvar and not Rita calling, but the vampire had informed him that Taylor still felt Rita and knew where she was. Later, as they drove to the club together, Leon had pressed Orvar to tell him what Taylor had felt. In the bayou, she’d known that Rita wanted to help her; she’d felt her compassion and it’d made her trust Rita.

Scared. Orvar told him that Rita had been scared. It’d been a dagger driven into his gut. She was the most fearless woman he’d ever known and he could count on one hand the number of times he knew Rita had been afraid. One of the times, and he could still picture it clearly because it was a common nightmare of his, a man — bigger and taller than him — crushed Rita against him and wouldn’t let go. With fear thick in her voice, she’d begged him to let her go, but he hadn’t listened. In his wolf form, Leon had charged the man, forced him to let her go, but in his dreams, he was often chained with silver and unable to come to her aid. Jackson would drag her away and he’d wake up in a cold sweat.

This wasn’t a nightmare. Catherine had Rita crushed against her, had her fingers wrapped around her throat, and she wouldn’t let go. They’d told her to let go, but she wouldn’t, and there wasn't a goddamned thing they could do about it. Leon clenched his teeth together with enough force that he wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d cracked. He was useless in his human form against Catherine, but the second he started shifting, the vampire could tighten her fingers and tear Rita's throat out. The same went for anything Orvar might try. The moment she perceived anything amiss, she was in a position to end Rita's life.

Rita seemed aware of their dilemma too, because she began to speak to Catherine, encouraging her to see reason. Unlike with Orvar, Leon had no trouble zeroing in on the sound of Rita’s voice. He fixed on her words like he often fixed on the reassuring feel of her hand on him when she sought to calm him. The beast retreated, but not far. He could still feel it pacing, angry that they were at an impasse.

But they didn't have to be, did they? Rita spoke of a ceasefire. Truce. Rita walked away. Catherine walked away. He looked at Orvar, who in turn looked at him, and nodded. Orvar frowned and looked back at Catherine and Rita. His frown deepened.

“If you allow Rita to go free, then you may go as well,” Orvar said. “But under the condition I have words with you before you leave.”

Catherine’s lips parted and she blinked. “Is that all? Have words? You won’t hurt me? Or shove me in that dreadful little box again?”

“You have my promise.”

Like those had been the magic words she’d been waiting for, Catherine smiled. As soon as her hand dropped away from Rita's neck, there was a flash of a dark suit and long limbs that rushed Catherine's position.

“You promised!” she shrieked. Almost too fast for even his heightened senses to perceive, Orvar reached into the booth and dragged Catherine from it. Another flash, and he’d dragged her to the back of the VIP section where he pinned her against the wall and she cowered, looking for all the world like a dog with its tail between its legs being scolded by its master as he gestured and yelled angrily.

Leon slid into the booth, taking Catherine’s spot, and immediately reached for Rita to pull her close to him. “So fucking glad you’re alright. You’re alright, aren’t you? She didn’t hurt you? You seriously talked your way out of that, didn’t you?”

 

[Poe]

All the air came back at once.

Rita gasped in a full breath as Catherine let go of her throat, greedily sucking in the air as if she’d been without it her entire life. With Orvar’s agreement to her terms, Catherine had felt it safe to let Rita go, but Orvar had taken to giving her a piece of his mind before making good on their deal. After all, he said she could go – he didn’t say when or how long their little ‘chat’ would take. Almost immediately Leon replaced Catherine at her side and pulled her into his arms. She reached up to cup his cheeks and press a kiss to his lips and rest her forehead on his. “I’m okay, I promise,” she repeated, “Catherine didn’t do anything except talk my ear off.”

His comment about her talking her way out of the confrontation made a laugh ripple through her chest. It was a relieved sound, delicate over the sound of Orvar and Catherine’s heated discussion. “Yeah, sorry it didn’t happen sooner, I’m a bit rusty,” she smiled genuinely, “It was just hard to gauge how afraid she was of Orvar, but when you two showed up it was written all over her face. And I knew you’d find me, so it was just an awkward few hours filled with flirting and whiskey, though I’m sure you can smell it.”

She wasn’t drunk, but thank god they had showed up when they did because it was maddening to sit there with Catherine for that long. Whiskey was a welcomed friend.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard Orvar yell before. It’s actually kind of terrifying,” Rita turned her head slightly to glance over her shoulder at the vampire pair against the back wall. Rita couldn’t exactly make out their words, but Catherine coward in her position pinned by him as he gave her a piece of his mind. Orvar, for a vampire, was the exact opposite of Catherine. Not only did Orvar have regard for human life, he had shown Rita time and time again that he cherished her life. There was no denying Orvar would have plenty to say on the matter, considering Catherine had not only kidnapped her but threatened to kill her. "He wasn't even that livid when Jenny was involved. Not that I spent a lot of time looking at his face then, either. Maybe we're just lucky to be on his good side."

“How did the two of you find me, anyway?”

 

[Acorn]

“Taylor,” he answered, lifting his head and shifting to follow her gaze, though his arms remained around her — she’d be hard-pressed to get him to let go anytime soon. Orvar exclaimed something indiscernible and hit the wall next to Catherine, leaving a fist-sized divot behind. He was terrifying when he was pissed, wasn’t he? Sometimes he forgot how powerful vampires were. They were deceptively human, and could handle something like an antique tea cup or his fiancée’s throat without damaging it if they wanted, but when they exerted their full strength, they could tear down walls.

He leaned back to look at her neck and his lips flattened. “She said she could feel what you did.“ Leon brought a hand up to the soft skin of her throat, gently touching the marks Catherine had made. “She pointed us your direction, said that Catherine had been talking nonstop about taking her to some club opening, so we figured Club Zero was a safe bet.”

He’d wanted to bring Taylor along so she could continue tracking Rita in case they left the club, but as soon as he’d made the suggestion that she go anywhere near Catherine, she’d grown agitated to the point of screaming at him and Orvar had convinced him to let her stay behind. They had found their way to Rita, regardless, and though it meant the world to him that she’d never doubted that he’d find her, he’d doubted. He’d worried Taylor was wrong, or worse, that she was right but when they got to her, she wouldn’t be alive. That fear had festered in him until he’d found her alive and well in the VIP section.

He shifted from touching her neck to running his thumb along the line of her jaw and sighed.

“You’re acting like this wasn’t a big deal,” he said, his expression growing serious, “but I honestly think she would’ve killed you if he hadn’t agreed to let her go.” He glanced to where Orvar and Catherine were still having their words, and with the way they were going, he didn’t see them being finished soon. “You know that, I know you do. Taylor said she could feel that you were scared, Rita. You don’t get scared unless there’s good reason.” He shook his head. “I’m going to tell Orvar once he’s done with her that I’m finished with supernatural work. I won't put you in this position again."

Leon wanted to help the community, but it wasn’t worth the risk to the one he loved most. Orvar would understand.