For the Hopeless

Aven shifted uncomfortably beneath Dameon's intense gaze. She had her eyes on the floor, but she could feel him studying her, taking in the sight of her damp blonde hair, her busty, slender figure, and the clothes he'd allowed her to take from Bailey's room. The black T-shirt was tight-fitting, perfectly showing off the sexiest curves of her body. It looked so strange on her after having seen Bailey wearing it a week ago, hanging from bony shoulders to drape about an emaciated frame. Aven tugged the thin fabric down a bit, attempting to make it meet the waistband of her borrowed jeans, but the moment she released it, it sprang back to its original position an inch above. The skin peeking out in the small gap between tight fabric and low-rise denim was fair, but darker than the body the clothes usually covered. The change was enough to immediately draw Dameon's eyes, just as Bailey's ghostly white skin would have.

"Are they bad?" the elfin woman asked after a few silent seconds. She shifted again, a bare foot silent as it brushed the black carpeting of the floor, and her golden-brown, green-flecked eyes cautiously rose from them. Dameon's gaze darted to her face, amusement clear in his hazel irises.

"No," he answered, a laughter in his tone that matched his eyes. "They just look so...different on you."

Aven laughed lightly, the sound soft and melodic. The slight nervousness it held only made it more endearing. "She is much smaller, isn't she?" she remarked, now fully turning her face from the floor. Her delicate elfin features shifted into a smile that made the clothes look even stranger. They were too dreary for such a bright countenance, much more fitting for a grim visage such as Bailey's. "And very pale." Dameon nodded, the humor slowly bleeding from his physiognomy, and Aven frowned in return. "If you don't mind my asking," she began cautiously, already able to tell that this was a topic that could easily upset the man, "what's wrong with her? Is she...sick?"

At that, Dameon let out a long, tired sigh. He allowed himself to sink back into the cushions of the dark blue couch, the softness of them almost painful to his overly tense body. He felt himself aging even as he thought of Bailey, who had suffered so much and was destined only to suffer some more. "No, not sick. She's...she's..." He trailed off, his mind searching for the proper way to phrase the woman's malady. His eyes found his laptop suddenly, shut and silent on the coffee table, and he vaguely wished to be free of this conversation, perhaps doing something more productive and less...Bailey-centric. "I can't really tell you what she is," he said at last, his gaze wandering back to the elf, whose eyes followed his movements with intense curiosity. She frowned.

"Why not?" she questioned, her head tilting gently to the left. It was a light movement, a very slight incline, but it was still just enough to swing a water-darkened strand of hair away from her left ear. The scarred tip was revealed, a sharp contrast to the natural elfin beauty of her face, and Dameon didn't have as much trouble as he'd expected keeping his gaze from it.

"It would require a long explanation, one I'm not allowed to tell." His eyes drifted once again to his laptop, and his longing to be done with this conversation redoubled. "I'm the only one who knows. Even Tawny doesn't, and she's able to read minds."

The elf's frown deepened, her eyes filling with confusion and a frustration that she might never know the answer to her question. She wasn't nosy, Dameon decided, simply afflicted with an implacable curiosity. "Can you at least tell me whether it has to do with..." She hesitated, glancing around the room as if she expected to find Bailey herself concealed in one corner, dangerous and plotting when to lash out in an insulted fury. Upon finding no one, Aven drew closer to Dameon, cautiously lowering herself onto the empty cushion to his left. "With the evil that she seems to harbor?" Her gaze was even more intense now. She was dying to know, and possibly a little bit afraid of the outcome.

A bitter smiled curved the werewolf's lips as he regarded the question. "No," he answered simply. "That, as far as I know, is related to what she is."

"And what is she?"

He laughed now, a hard and rancorous laugh that cooled the eager curiosity in Aven's expression. "Nobody knows."

At that moment, the door opened, and Bailey accompanied a bitterly cold gust of wind into the warm house. She noticed Dameon and Aven on the couch across from her as she shut the door, and she cocked an eyebrow, looking from one to the other as if expecting to be told of their conversation. When an explanation never came, she spoke.

"I took care of the humans lingering in your home," she told Aven, walking over to the chair the elf had occupied earlier and sitting down with all the grace of a predator. She ignored the blood staining the chair's arm just as she ignored the red streaks decorating her pale forearms. "They've made quite a mess of the place, though. I didn't see the bedroom, but I'm betting they destroyed your clothing and other belongings." Her tone became suddenly colder, the wickedness spiking to invisibly ripple in the air around her. "If you plan to remain with us, we can get you some new things tomorrow. But if you plan to leave, you're on your own. You can go back for all I care, face the ones who come to investigate the murders."

Dameon noticed a slight quivering in Aven's limbs, though she quickly made it stop. "I plan to stay, if that's all right. I didn't have much to begin with, and I don't really want to face anymore of those people."

Bailey smiled, and though it was still tinged with a razor-sharp edge of coldness, there was a bit of warmth shining through. She was a grim woman, a serious one because of the various unfavorable circumstances of her way of living, but she wasn't all ice and stone. "Good. I don't doubt that you would give them one hell of a fight if you had to, but I can tell that you're a fairly domesticated elf." Indignation sprang to the elf's eyes, replacing the mild fear they'd held only a moment before, but Bailey did her best to put the anger to rest. "It's not meant as an insult. All elves these days are tamer, as are many werewolves and banshees and even, to an extent, vampires. It's simply how we have to be. It's kept us safe within human society for quite some time."

Us, both Dameon and Aven repeated in their heads. Did that mean Bailey grouped herself with elves or vampires or werewolves or banshees? She wasn't a werewolf, Dameon knew. He would've been picked up on it over the past few months of living with her. And Aven knew that she wasn't an elf. That wasn't something one could easily hide from other Novies. And she could handle sunlight, which meant she wasn't a vampire. Well, not an undead, at least. Perhaps a living vampire. But Dameon had never noticed any cravings for blood. Usually, her wickedness only led her to crave bloodshed. And a banshee? That one was simply unbelievable. Banshees were grave creatures, sure, but Bailey had never reacted to death as a banshee would have.

They were back to square one. Us had simply meant nonhumans in general. She could have been one of a hundred different species, and she wouldn't even give anyone a hint as to what she was.

"There is something I should mention, however," Bailey said after a moment, jerking both Aven and Dameon from their deep, questioning thoughts, "a condition that goes along with your residing here."

"What is it?" Aven asked softly, a frown of worry curving her perfect pink lips. Dameon had a feeling he knew what was coming, though. He'd heard her say something similar to Tawny when bringing her in, and Madeleine before her. Even Talon had been told.

"If you're going to live with Guardians, you're going to help them." When Aven's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting as if she wished to object, Bailey continued. "You don't have to do what I do," she assured her. "I'm actually rather extreme among Guardians. You may have to kill humans and Traitors, but not in large groups as I do. You could simply become a scout for us, or just clean up around here and do some shopping for us." At the last, the elf frowned, as if she were torn now. The easy route or the dangerous one? Shopping and cleaning or hunting and killing?

Bailey watched carefully as the elf's expression shifted, going from indecision to thoughtfulness to, finally, determination. A smile nearly curved her grayish lips. That was what she liked to see.

"I...don't know how much help I can be to you, but...I think I'd like to fight with you. Or, at least, try to fight with you." She grimaced, averting her gaze. "I've never really been much of a fighter."

"Of course," Bailey said with a shrug of her bony shoulders. "You're domesticated, as I said." The elf's eyes met hers, a hint of question mingling with the touch of pleading that lingered there. Would I be good enough? those eyes seemed to ask. Would I just get in the way? "Are you able to heal?" Bailey asked after a short pause, looking the woman over slowly.

Aven nodded once, her blonde hair shifting to show her wounded ear yet again. The yellow strands had begun to frizz a bit now that they were nearly dry, but she didn't seem to notice. "A little. My mother taught me the basics when I was younger, but I've never had the chance to learn beyond that."

"Good enough," Bailey said with a nod of her own, as if to confirm her words even further. "I'll bring you along with me next time I hunt. We'll see whether you have any skill in fighting and perhaps test your healing abilities." Aven's face shifted in another grimace, her eyes telling of the sudden unease she felt, but Bailey merely smiled, showing a flash of white teeth. "Don't worry. If you're with me, you'll be safe." Unless one of my own species becomes a Traitor... The mere thought made her shudder, though she kept her smile in place. "But if you're easily disturbed, you might want to avoid watching me." Her smile grew, a little bit of deviousness tinging it now, as she watched Aven's expression transform into one of slight horror. She stood, starting toward the stairs with that look still on her face. "Get her something to eat, Dameon," she ordered as she started to ascend. "I can tell you haven't made it that far yet." And with that, she disappeared onto the second floor, leaving Dameon to nod to no one.

-

Bailey let out a slow, quiet breath as she slid into the warm, clean water of the bath. She sank down until her chin was nearly submerged, her dark hair floating atop the water around her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually taken the time to relax in a warm, soothing bath instead of rushing through a ten-minute, half-cold shower. She just didn't have the time for it. Of course, she didn't really have the time for it now, but after the day she'd had, she felt like she deserved it.

She closed her eyes as the visions of what she'd done flashed through her mind. Barely an hour ago, she'd used a human as a shield, crushed two human necks, broken another...and all because of her own inner wickedness. But it had been her duty. She might have gone a bit far, but still...

A sigh slipped from between her parted lips, creating ripples in the water beneath her chin. At a knock on the door, she opened her eyes. "Yes?"

"Bailey?" She recognized the voice immediately, a small, girlish voice, sweet with an unmissable edge of hardness. Her lips curved in a small smile. It was Tawny, the walking paradox. It was a voice she trusted.

"Yes, Tawny?" Bailey replied, sitting up to a soft accompaniment of splashes and shifting water. She stared at the door for a moment, debating whether or not she should grab a towel and cover herself; but before she had the chance to decide, the old wooden door creaked open and a delicate, heart-shaped face appeared in the resulting crack.

The face was slender and smooth, the fair skin unmarred, free of blemishes and even freckles. The mouth was round and vaguely heart-shaped like the face, composed of pale pink lips that needed no make-up to be beautiful. In the bright light of the overhead lamp, the blue of her eyes seemed to glow impossibly, though a dingy gray hung over the brightness like the gray of clouds in an overcast sky. Both anomalies were symptoms of her disease, the only physical ones to be seen. If it weren't for those, her lack of hearing and telepathic abilities would never have been suspected. And as it were, so few knew of the disease that they still weren't suspected in most cases.

"I-" The girl's soft voice dropped off instantly, her odd gray-blue eyes widening and her white cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Her gaze had fallen upon Bailey's bare breasts, the water inches from covering the white swells and their pink tips. "I'm sorry," she all but cried, taking a step back as if to leave. "I thought you were still-"

"It's all right," Bailey interrupted her, sliding back down into the water so that only her glowing white face and thin shoulders poked above the surface. "It's not as though you haven't seen me naked before." Her small smile grew at the memories, just barely. Tawny had walked in on her so many times that this was normal now, though the woman still blushed and reacted this way every time. And how did she manage to walk in without knowing that Bailey would be naked? She could read minds, after all...

Cautiously, Tawny peeked back into the room. Her eyes were hesitant now, but no longer wide in shock and fright; yet her cheeks still held the faintest tinge of red. Someday, she would probably die of embarrassment. Or, at least, that's what Bailey had always thought.

The woman watched Bailey for a moment longer, as if she expected her to whip out her ta-tas again, but soon stepped into the room. Her full frame was visible now, and Bailey couldn't help looking her over as she turned her gaze away and softly shut the door behind herself.

Tawny stood at a meager height of 5'3, her body so slender that she looked as though she would snap in half in the slightest hint of a breeze. But Bailey knew that she was much more dangerous than she looked, and not merely because her kiss could be the kiss of death to a human. Sure, swapping spit with a member of the species she'd used to belong to could cause blindness, deafness, or any other loss of sense, inflicting her disease upon them, but she could blind a man or relieve him of his hearing without bringing her lips anywhere near him. All it took was a nail to the eye or a knife to the ear. She had the skill and the hint of crazy required to do it. Without hesitation.

Yet beyond that, she was one of the sweetest girls Bailey had ever met. She would never say anything negative to or about someone if she could help it, wouldn't look down upon another person unless they were human or Traitor. She helped people whenever she could without worrying about the consequences of her actions. When Bailey had found her, she'd been on the brink of death after facing a Traitor, a werewolf who had been attempting to slaughter a legion of shoppers in a local mall that had been known for its Novie clientele. She had won, but she'd ended up almost in the same shape as the defeated werewolf.

The thought slipped from her mind when Tawny turned back to her, no longer blushing. She still seemed a bit uncomfortable, however, and her eyes were very strictly focused on Bailey's hollow-cheeked face.

"What do you need?" Bailey asked, carefully arranging her long hair over her chest, just in case. She knew that Tawny would die of embarrassment someday, but she didn't want that day to come now.

"I was just wondering if you were okay," the girl answered as she took a step closer to the tub. She noticed that the water held a slight hint of pink, and she wondered vaguely where Bailey had been bleeding from. Or if that had even been her own blood. "Your thoughts have been loud since you entered the house, and they seem very...jumbled."

Ah. So that's why she didn't know that Bailey was in the bath. It would be hard to hear any nudity-related thoughts when there were seventeen thoughts related to more worrisome, violent things mixing around in her mind.

"Oh," was all Bailey could think to say for the moment. How should she reply to that question? "I'm...not too bad." But, of course, Tawny would hear the truth somewhere in her muddled thoughts.

The girl frowned knowingly. "What happened?" she questioned. "At the elf's house?"

Bailey smiled weakly, allowing her head to tip back against the tub's edge, her dark eyes moving to the boring white of the ceiling. "You tell me," she said, the thought echoing in her mind for Tawny to hear. Along with a billion other thoughts.

She sighed, her lips pursing in frustration. "I don't want to dig for it," she stated with an air of annoyance. "I want you to tell me."

"My wickedness," Bailey began in an almost bored tone, hoping the sound would be the same in her mind, where Tawny would hear it. "I let it possess me for a while. And the result was the usual carnage."

"You shouldn't feel bad about it," Tawny told her, her voice softer now, kinder. She perched her slender body on the edge of the bathtub and frowned down at Bailey. "It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't as though those men didn't deserve what they got."

Bailey sighed, the annoyed sound cutting through her mind like a boom of thunder, judging by Tawny's barely noticeable jump. "It's not that,"she said, turning to the woman with anger in her narrowed eyes. "I don't care that I killed them so brutally. They did deserve it. I just..." She turned away again, her glare landing once more upon the poor, innocent ceiling. "I don't like that I can't control it. I feel like I failed somehow, letting it take over like it did. Shouldn't I be strong enough to stop it?"

"I don't think it's a matter of strength, Bailey," Tawny told her friend softly, that knowing look once again entering her overcast-sky eyes. "That wickedness is your nature. There is no fighting your nature."

A bark of harsh laughter escaped Bailey, her dark gaze landing on Tawny yet again, so fierce that the small girl nearly drew physically away from her. "Vampires do it," she stated, her words laced with an ugly, angry jealousy, "when they love humans. They refuse human blood, the blood they are meant to consume, to keep the one they love."

"But, Bailey..." Tawny leaned close to the girl, resting a small, elegant hand upon a small, bony shoulder. The loosely curling tresses of her chestnut-brown hair were so long that they nearly brushed the water as she bent so close. "You're not a vampire," she said in a near whisper, sympathy shining in her eyes. Bailey turned her face away, her jaw clenching at the implications of that one statement. "I don't know what you are, Bailey, and I don't think I even want to know, but...whatever it is, it cannot be as weak and easily repressed as a vampire. Your nature is more sinister, your heritage darker. And I don't believe individuals as powerful as those of your species would be as naturally willing to suppress that which makes them so strong as vampires are."

Out of any even remotely compelling arguments, Bailey resigned herself to saying in an angry whisper, "I should still be able to control it."

Tawny sighed and withdrew her hand. She'd won only a half victory. "Stop calling me a bitch," she said without sounding the slightest bit offended. She even offered her friend a small smile when she finally turned her eyes back to her face, mildly startled. "You're thinking it pretty loud, even over the mess of other thoughts in there." She rose as Bailey muttered a short, but no less sincere apology. "It's all right," she had the grace to respond, her smile growing. "You can make it up by eating something. You're smaller than me now, and I can't say I'm not jealous." But beyond the joke, there was a hint of concern in her expression. And rightly so, since Bailey was nothing but skin and bones. Almost literally.

Bailey forced herself to return the smile. "All right. I'll wash up and head downstairs soon."

"Good," Tawny said with a single short nod. "You need it." She turned away and started for the door, but a thought, deliberately loud, she decided, as it was in the form of a question that only she could answer, stopped her about a foot away from her destination: What do you think of the elf?

Without turning, the smaller girl answered, "I'm not sure about her." Her tone was contemplative, though an underlying edge of irritation was obvious. "She seems as though she would make a good ally, but she's asked too much about you. I don't like it." Of course, that was probably just because she didn't want this newcomer to know anything about Bailey that she hadn't been clued in on over her months with the woman...

Bailey nodded behind her, only the vaguest thought of it in her mind letting Tawny know of the movement. "All right," the woman said aloud, though she was aware that Tawny could hear her perfectly well through her telepathy. Vocalizing things was more for her comfort than her friend's. "Thank you. I'll watch that."

Tawny gave one last nod, sharp and quick, then left the room just as silently as she'd arrived, albeit much more grimly.