Daughter of the Night

When I awoke, approximately 16 hours later, I felt mightily improved, although my capabilities were still greatly restrained by the sun’s leftover toxin. The cleansing process was, for the most part, over. While it had not been a particularly enjoyable experience, it had excreted most of the sun’s poison from my body. I was no longer in danger of self-combusting, and hopefully it would stay this way for quite a while.

I slitted my eyes open and peered down at myself. My wardrobe had stopped smoldering, although I could still smell the smoke and ashes on the remains of the dark materials. It was unquestionable that I would require a new set of garments, although I would honestly prefer my old ones.

And my cape. It had fared off as as badly as the rest of my things. My beloved cape! It had been with me for over a century, unwavering by my side. Yes, it was an inanimate object, but it had come from my past. From my years as a human. From the time before my... rebirth.

Sighing, I rose to my feet, although I felt naked without the comforting swirl of heavy wool around my body. I had to settle for the tilt of my head that sent raven-black hair cascading over my shoulder. Funny how it hadn’t burned. My skin, my throat, all of my internal organs, they had ignited like fireworks on the Fourth. But not my hair. Well, irony aside, that was a plus. At least I wasn’t bald. That would definitely make it more of a challenge to strike terror into the hearts of innocent civillians. Not that I wouldn’t be able to, of course, but still.

I scanned the grubby basement for the telltale signs of worn tiles. I saw the particular seam in the floor that I was looking for and went over to it. Using the ring finger of my left hand, I pried apart the hard concrete to reveal an excavated pocket beneath it. In that pocket, as I knew so well, was a boatload of cash and valuables.

I may be a monster, but I’m a smart one. I know better than to leave whatever cash my victims have on them at the time of their death in their pockets. It’s not like they’re going to need the eighty dollars they just got from the ATM machine after they die.

I figured that I had about twelve thousand dollars saved up, although in this particular church there was only about seven thousand, three hundred. I knew better than to put all of it in one place, although it wasn’t exactly like I had to protect it from anyone.

I knew that I had a lot of money. The sad truth was that most of the guys I took out were mob bosses, or big-time thieves or murderers, so unfortunately they were all loaded. And whatever I took, I donated most of it to charity. Still, a century of such a life will still leave you with a lot.

With a skeptical face, I scooped up the neatly stacked wad of cash and slipped it into the remaining folds of my clothes just as I heard a human crossing the corridor above.

The sound of footsteps made me look up in time to see the door to the basement crack open. A familiar pair of feet, clad in a grubby pair of odd-looking sneakers, plodded tiredly down the stairs. Aaron stretched his arms behind his head and yawned as he came down the steps. Today he was sporting (another pair of) worn denim jeans, a grey band tee, and a black leather jacket.

“Evening,” he told me as soon has he finished yawning. I could see bags under his eyes.

“Did you not sleep?” I demanded. “We’re leaving! You should be rested, not dead on your feet.”

The boy looked at me sideways with those damned green eyes of his. Instead of their usual brightness, today they were sleepy, and his tousled hair only made him look as if he had just dragged himself out of bed.

“I was working,” he replied. “I had to leave right when it was picking up, too.”

I pulled up part of my lip to reveal a pointed fang, radiating disgust through my features. “You still work there?”

“I get some awesome tips,” he told me, grinning.

“That’s how you repay me saving your life? By returning to work at the place that nearly got you killed?!”

“How come is it that you only saved my life when it suits your fancy, huh?” he shot back irritably. “Either you kept me from dying, or you didn’t.”

I hissed at him, grumbling oaths in the back of my throat. “I saved your life, but only because it suited my needs.”

“And,” he retorted with a blindingly white smile, “I returned the favor. So this discussion is, for all intensive purposes, over.”

I swear to God, his brainpower is like a lightswitch. It turns on and off in a totally unpredictable pattern, and it rears its ugly head at the worst possible moments. It’s very frustrating to work with, and it’s an absolute pain in the ass when you’re trying to argue against it.

“Why did you do that again? Save my life, I mean,” I asked innocently.

Aaron’s cheeks turned a few shades pinker, even under his tan, but before he could respond, I overrode him.

“Oh, that’s right, so you could pay me back for saving your life. But now, oh wait, we’re both on the run! From the very same people who are trying to kill me and who are undoubtedly also trying to kill you as well now. What was that? They’re trying to kill you, too? But didn’t I just save your life? Funny how now your life is in danger, too. That makes it seem almost like saving you was a total waste of time in the first place, because here you are spitting in death’s face yet again!”

I exhaled angrily, glaring at him vehemently as I did so.

He stared back at me from under raised brows. “That was one helluva monologue, Cross.”

“Did you get my point?”

“Explicitly.”

“I don’t approve of you leaving with me, but because of your idiotic actions, now they’re after you too. If you’re lucky, the werewolves will forget about you by the time your next semester picks up. If you’re not lucky, there goes your future down the toilet.”

“I don’t think you should be belittling my actions,” he said, crossing his arms, “when if I had acted differently you would now be dead.”

“As opposed to undead?” I shot back.

“You know what? Normal people would consider my actions heroic. Normal damsels in distress would be grateful that they didn’t die at the hands of their perpetrators. Normally, I would be lauded for my actions instead of insulted.”

I barely heard his last few words because my mind had gone blank when he had uttered ‘damsels in distress’.

I peeled back my lips to give off a full view of all my teeth, a naturally predatory thing to do in times of stress.

“I’ll show you damsel in distress,” I growled before launching myself at him.

His green eyes opened wide before I snatched him up around his waist. I propelled myself up the stairs, using the shadows to ease my passage.

It took me little more than thirty seconds to run up the side of the building, the boy dangling from one of my arms, and bring him to the rooftop of the church. The slippery bricks under my feet posed little problem for me, however, and soon I had successfully hung Aaron by the back of his coat on one of the spiraling turrets that jutted out of the roof. He was about ten feet up or so from the tiles, but if he wiggled out of his coat he wouldn’t be able to find purchase on the sleep and sliippery slope before he would roll off the roof and hit the cement three stories below. He was, for all intensive purposes, stuck.

“You’re not coming down until you apologize,” I said, crossing my arms.

“You know, he said as he tested his displacement of weight, “it’s difficult to maintain a proper conversation when you go off and pull a stunt like this.”

I stared up at him. “That damsel in distress comment was far more insulting than you could possibly realize.”

“Oh,” he said, “so that’s where I went wrong. Well, if it helps, I was being sarcastic.”

I crossed my arms, tapped my foot, and stared pointedly over the edge of the roof, down at the night-covered ground three stories below.

“We should get going,” I informed him. “And I plan on picking up another cloak.”

“Then get me down!” he yelled, trying to wave his arms. “And where do you plan to find another cape like that? That thing was downright archaic. Unless there’s a Harry Potter cosplay event going on somewhere, I think you’re out of luck.”

I glowered up at him. “Now that’s two apologies.”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “Alright, fine. I apologize for calling you a damsel in distress because you most certainly are not, and I also apologize for pointing out your dismal sense of fashion.”

Although I tried to smother it, a corner of my mouth quirked at his last sentence. In a matter of minutes, I had both of us on solid ground.

“So how do you plan on paying for these new clothes?” he asked. “Am I wrong in assuming that you’re actually going to pay? Because if I am, I should probably point out that it’s going to be difficult to make a subtle escape from the city if half the NYPD is on our heels.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“So?”

In response, I pulled out my stack of money and showed it to him, all the while eying our surroundings.

I didn’t have to watch his face to know that his eyes were the size of saucers, and that his jaw was most likely scraping the ground.

“How much?”

I shrugged. “I’m thinking seven-point-three grand, but it’s an approximation.”

His forehead furrowd in confusion. “Where did you get all this?”

I said nothing, and after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence he breathed an “oh”. I nodded and replaced the money in my pocket.

We continued on in silence until we came to the shopping district. I turned to watch, amused, as a faintly ill expression stole over Aaron’s features.

I eyed the store windows, looking for one that was chique and dark. It honestly wasn’t difficult, considering that New York is the land of the black jackets.

Aaron crossed his arms, and I heard the chafing of leather against leather.

“The stores are closed, you know,” he told me, one eyebrow raised.

“Getting in isn’t the problem,” I said. “Modern security is still a couple hundred years too early for a vampire.”

Reaching out to his arm, I felt the leather between my fingers. “This is good, no?”

He looked down at my hand. After a moment of confusion, comprehension flowed over his face.

“You’re going biker chick now? What happened to the Hobbit look?”

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You know, the Hobbit look. Those heavy wool cloaks that Frodo always wears in Lord of the Rings. Like what you had. Well, I guess they had them in Star Wars, too, so I suppose it’s really more of a Sci-Fi look... Star Trek didn’t have them, though...”

“You’re rambling,” I informed him, “and about something that I have no knowledge of.”

He eyed me disbelievingly, as if I had grown a second head. “You’ve never seen Star Wars?”

I kicked my foot against the pavement impatiently. “Can we get back to the subject at hand, please?”

He sighed. “Fine. But really, a Star Wars virgin!”

I growled, and he shut up long enough for me to scan the stores again.

“We’re on the run,” I told him. “I can’t be running around in such ostentatious clothing. I need something more subtle, more modern. I plan on being seen, now, so I can’t be remembered.”

Aaron thought this over a moment, and then dipped his head in agreement. “Makes sense. Still, we’re on Fifth Avenue, so whatever you buy is still going to stand out a bit.”

“I’m from New York. Anything less than black leather and wool is below my standards.”

He laughed while I continued evaluating the lines of stores.

Finally, I made my choice. “I’m going in that one.”

He followed my gaze to the store and a huge smirk crept over his face. He shook his head, and then in a few seconds he was laughing.

“What?” I demanded.

“That’s Dolce and Gabbana,” he told me. “You couldn’t get a sock in there for less than four hundred dollars.”

“Then it’s good quality,” I said, continuing to study the store.

“The best, but-”

Before he could finish his sentence I had allowed my form to melt away, willing my body to free itself into the form of whispering black smoke.

In seconds, I was through the entrance (despite the fact that it was barred by solid steel and gates of wrought iron) and in the interior of the store.

The security didn’t stop once I was on the other side. There were still motion-sensing detectors and such, but with a wave of my hand they shut off for about fifteen minutes. Although now the store was plunged into darkness, it didn’t pose a problem for me.

Racks of ungodly priced clothing filled the department store, and I could make out shoes on the upstairs floor.

It took all of ten minutes for me to find what I needed. I calculated the total price of my purchases and left the recquired money on the counter, along with a note listing all of the items that I had taken.

When I reappeared at Aaron’s side, several thousand dollars lighter, he acted surprised again.

“We should go,” I said, remembering the time on the clock in the store.

“Holy shit,” he said, eying me from the boots to the hat. “You look hot.”

I looked at him sharply, but apparently he was being entirely earnest.

“Too bad I don’t give off body heat,” I said, at a loss for better words.

I had gotten flat black leather boots, because it was difficult to land on your feet after an aerobatic in heels. They were thigh high, because that was the most comfortable thing I could find, and tied with black decorative tassles. They folded over at the top. I was very happy with them because the stitches were tight and small, which meant I’d be able to get a lot of use out of them.

I hadn’t been able to find suitable pants, so I ended up selecting a pair of black legging-shorts that came down to just above the thigh-high boots, revealing a strip of ivory skin. I had then selected a black tunic dress that fit nicely and left me plenty of room to move around in.

My black leather jacket was similar to Aaron’s in that the seams were wide, and the jacket was loose enough around the shoulders to provide good mobility, while still looking like a jacket. The zipper was a flashing silver, and the collar was folded over but still high on my neck, to cover the burn.

Finally, I had chosen a black-and-silver striped decorative scarf, wrapped once and a half around my neck to cover any traces of my scar that the jacket couldn’t hide.

Rolling his eyes, Aaron gestured towards the subway, which we would take in order to get to the train station.

“So where do you have in mind?” Aaron asked. As of yet, I hadn’t informed him of our travelling plans.

“The one thing werewolves hate as much as vampires,” I said slowly, “Are the faeries. So we’re off to the Faerie capital.”

A look of curious wonder came over him. “And where would that be?”

I shrugged. “Ironically, the Faerie capital is also the United States capital. We should get going. Our ride leaves in twenty minutes.”

With that, we set off into the night.