Rois de la Nuit
Huit
Unlike Angelion, I knew how to pick a lock. I had learned the rudiments of it sometime back in the thirties or forties. From there the locks and my various skills had progressed. It was just one of many things that I had learned over the many centuries. And in this case, it worked perfectly. It took me a little less time than your ordinary human thief might though. Unlike them, I was faster, I could also hear things that they couldn’t…without assistance that is. I licked my lips as I heard the final click and smacked the door open. I stood up and brushed my hair out of my face, smirking at Angelion. “Beat that,” I said grinning from ear to ear.
Angelion rolled his eyes and shoved past me. I had a feeling he was annoyed with me for some reason. Couldn’t figure out why. It was as if he was jealous or maybe he thought that I was annoying as fucking hell. Nah, that simply couldn’t be possible. I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed Angelion into the apartment before us. It was a fairly nice place. The décor was mid-eighteenth century France. It wasn’t my favorite, but I didn’t mind French things in general so I couldn’t really object too much. The coloration of the place was dark. It made it easier to blend in with the night and our dark clothing though Angelion’s hair was a bright torch in front of me. It was kind of annoying to see that. I wanted to reach out and simply shave him bald. I knew how that would end though. I had done it before and as funny as it was, it simply hadn’t been pretty.
The carpets covering the floor were thick and seemed to flood to fight and compete for space every time that you took a step. I loved these kinds of carpets. They were my favorites. They had all kinds of lovely qualities to them. First off: there was the fact that they dulled noise. Not that it mattered. You can’t sneak up on a vampire. Many have tried and all have failed. Hence why they are dead and I continue to live doing whatever I want without anyone to stop me. I won’t let anyone argue that fact with me either because I will win it! Angelion says it has something to do with circular reasoning whatever that is. I don’t believe in such things. Unless it is being used against me in which case it is not only clearly absurd but completely pointless as well. Second: unless you were stupid enough to get these rugs in a color they were not intended for: anything not black or red, than they could hide blood with the greatest ease. I should know. After all, I had seen it from experience.
I wasn’t sure why Angelion was sneaking around though. After all, it had only taken me one deep breath to realize that we were quite alone in this place. A fact that I was quite happy to point out to him. Given the glare he gave me, I don’t think he cared much. He was probably concerned about the humans we could hear trying to argue violently in hushed voices a story or two above us. I didn’t really care about them. They and their little children could well have made quite the tasty snack that night. Nothing wrong with going with one’s natural instincts. That was why it would be a pity if we had to kill however this so called murderer was. Considering the fact that all of my kind that had had the mind to use the graces and wonderful instincts were given, the thought of having to destroy someone who had that skill was actually rather disconcerting.
I had to admit though, that the carpet did have one advantage. I could almost feel it through my boots. The next best thing would have been to slip my boots and socks off and just let my feet lounge in the carpet allowing its fluffy, dark, softness to engulf my feet. “You need a cat,” Angelion said decidedly.
I was instantly snapped from my wonderful delusions to glare at Angelion. “And you need a man to keep you out of other people’s minds,” I snapped back. There had been a time among our people when such a comment would have led to the declaration of a Challenge. I had fought many of those over the years as well. Further proof that I am just the same as I always am: a complete and total douche.
Angelion growled softly at me before turning away. We really probably didn’t have time to argue, but it was ingrained in us at times. Every time we were around each other, we seemed to argue. It was like an addiction to me at least. If I didn’t insult him while I was around him, I started worrying about my mental health. I wondered if this particular killer felt the same way. I wondered if, when we found him guilty and were forced to kill him, he would revel in the pain and defeat, or if he would fight until he last breath.
Angelion rolled his eyes and shoved past me. I had a feeling he was annoyed with me for some reason. Couldn’t figure out why. It was as if he was jealous or maybe he thought that I was annoying as fucking hell. Nah, that simply couldn’t be possible. I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed Angelion into the apartment before us. It was a fairly nice place. The décor was mid-eighteenth century France. It wasn’t my favorite, but I didn’t mind French things in general so I couldn’t really object too much. The coloration of the place was dark. It made it easier to blend in with the night and our dark clothing though Angelion’s hair was a bright torch in front of me. It was kind of annoying to see that. I wanted to reach out and simply shave him bald. I knew how that would end though. I had done it before and as funny as it was, it simply hadn’t been pretty.
The carpets covering the floor were thick and seemed to flood to fight and compete for space every time that you took a step. I loved these kinds of carpets. They were my favorites. They had all kinds of lovely qualities to them. First off: there was the fact that they dulled noise. Not that it mattered. You can’t sneak up on a vampire. Many have tried and all have failed. Hence why they are dead and I continue to live doing whatever I want without anyone to stop me. I won’t let anyone argue that fact with me either because I will win it! Angelion says it has something to do with circular reasoning whatever that is. I don’t believe in such things. Unless it is being used against me in which case it is not only clearly absurd but completely pointless as well. Second: unless you were stupid enough to get these rugs in a color they were not intended for: anything not black or red, than they could hide blood with the greatest ease. I should know. After all, I had seen it from experience.
I wasn’t sure why Angelion was sneaking around though. After all, it had only taken me one deep breath to realize that we were quite alone in this place. A fact that I was quite happy to point out to him. Given the glare he gave me, I don’t think he cared much. He was probably concerned about the humans we could hear trying to argue violently in hushed voices a story or two above us. I didn’t really care about them. They and their little children could well have made quite the tasty snack that night. Nothing wrong with going with one’s natural instincts. That was why it would be a pity if we had to kill however this so called murderer was. Considering the fact that all of my kind that had had the mind to use the graces and wonderful instincts were given, the thought of having to destroy someone who had that skill was actually rather disconcerting.
I had to admit though, that the carpet did have one advantage. I could almost feel it through my boots. The next best thing would have been to slip my boots and socks off and just let my feet lounge in the carpet allowing its fluffy, dark, softness to engulf my feet. “You need a cat,” Angelion said decidedly.
I was instantly snapped from my wonderful delusions to glare at Angelion. “And you need a man to keep you out of other people’s minds,” I snapped back. There had been a time among our people when such a comment would have led to the declaration of a Challenge. I had fought many of those over the years as well. Further proof that I am just the same as I always am: a complete and total douche.
Angelion growled softly at me before turning away. We really probably didn’t have time to argue, but it was ingrained in us at times. Every time we were around each other, we seemed to argue. It was like an addiction to me at least. If I didn’t insult him while I was around him, I started worrying about my mental health. I wondered if this particular killer felt the same way. I wondered if, when we found him guilty and were forced to kill him, he would revel in the pain and defeat, or if he would fight until he last breath.