Twisted and Broken Things

It was raining again, yet Paris still seemed like the most beautiful place in the world in Hayden Delaney's opinion. Of the many places that she had visited, the French city had always been one of her favorites, although Hayden supposed this could be partially due to the fact that her most beloved grandmother had called Paris home. She had often visited Grandma Cecilia and Grandfather Jacques in their French townhouse, and these visits had been peppered with trips to Paris for shopping and dining. After her grandfather's death, she and Grandma Cecilia had stayed in a Parisian apartment and spent their evenings at operas, art shows and sometimes croquet matches.

Although her grandmother had always taught Hayden that Paris was not without its faults, all she could see at the moment was the beauty held in the remarkable edifices, cobblestone roads and quaint shops. She was seated in the back of a taxi that she had enlisted with the task of taking her to dinner with two of her closer friends, Brielle Leaveaux and Lydia Muniere, and she smiled to herself as they slowly coasted by many places that Hayden had known for much of her life.

Her favorite of the shops they passed was a small book store owned by an elderly man that had been in the wine business with Grandfather Jacques in the thirties. The shop only held second hand books, but Hayden loved the worn spins and crinkled, yellowed pages more than fresh and unopened novels. She felt that these books had character, and if they had been fortunate enough to make it to the selective book shop, they were worth her attention.

She had only been in Paris for a few days, but she had already made her second visit to the shop that morning to purchase a classic piece that had been put on hold for her. She had been looking for a firsthand edition the novel translation of J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan for years, and this morning a copy had become hers for a discounted price due to her close friendship with the store owner. The book was currently tucked in the bottom of her purse, and although she couldn't wait to read it, Hayden was at the moment more excited by the prospect of seeing her friends. The book would have to wait for the taxi ride home.

Her cell phone buzzed from the bottom of her purse, and Hayden stuck a hand into the abyss to pull the phone from a tangle of make up, keys, hair ties and mints. "Bonjour, chere," she smiled into her phone after seeing Brielle's name on the screen.

"Where are you?" Brielle demanded in her thick French accent. She had grown up in France on an estate that bordered that of Hayden's grandparents, and the two girls had been friends since childhood.

"In a cab," replied Hayden. "I'll be there soon. Order me something fruity to drink, and don't let Lyd eat all of the breads."

"Oui," Brielle chuckled before she hung up.

Hayden let her phone drift back into her purse and glanced back out the window. The book store was gone, and now she was driving further into the highly populated, well-lit and attention grabbing area of Paris. She had no idea what restaurant she was supposed to be going to, but she had relayed the name that Lydia had texted her to the cab driver, who seemed to know where the establishment was located. Knowing her friends, it would no doubt be some swanky, overpriced place with good liquor.

"This is it, mademoiselle," the driver announced.

"Merci," Hayden smiled as she paid him. She skipped out of the taxi before he returned her change and headed towards the entrance of the restaurant. She paused under the awning of the building to answer her ringing phone again. "I'm right outside, love," she laughed into the electronic.

"Miss Delaney? This is Art Stimperton, your grandmother's attorney."

Hayden's smile turned down at the corners, and she stepped away from the door of the restaurant so that she could take the call in private. It concerned something that she wasn't ready to discuss with anyone, even two of her childhood friends. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stimperton. I completely forgot about our meeting today," she lied, feeling slightly bad about the snappy tone of her voice.

The attorney on the other end of the phone line sighed deeply. "Miss Delaney, I realize that this is a difficult time for you, but it's really imperative that we discuss your grandmother's estate and last will and testament."

A sharp pain slithered from the top of Hayden's chest into her throat, and her eyes grew fuzzy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stimperton, but I'm afraid I'm losing reception." She slammed the 'end call' button with her thumb and turned her phone off before throwing it into the pit of her purse. She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, cleared her throat and tried to smile for her own comfort before she walked into the restaurant.

She found Lydia and Brielle seated at a four person table near the bar, and she beamed when they both stood up and excitedly pulled her in for hugs. "We've missed you so much, Hayden!" Lydia exclaimed happily. "You look fantastic!"

When Hayden had gotten in contact with her friends and they had decided to go for dinner, Hayden had done some digging through her closet until she found a green silk blouse with elbow length sleeves and a tight black pencil skirt that stopped a few inches above her knee. She felt like she looked nice, which was always important when she was in the company of Lydia and Brielle. "She is right, chere," Brielle agreed.

Hayden's green eyes fluttered skyward. "Coming from the girl who just did a runway show for Calvin Klein, right?" she clarified.

Brielle smiled as they all sat down. "It was absolutely fantastic, Hay," she admitted. "Everyone I met was so kind and gracious."

"I saw pictures," Lydia told Hayden, "She looked fantastic." Both of the French girls were involved in the fashion industry, Brielle as a model and Lydia as a fashion reporter, and this was one of the things that made Hayden feel slightly isolated when she was with them. She dressed well, but as far as the current "it" items and fads, she was clueless.

"That's great, Bri," Hayden smiled as she took a drink from the glass of white wine before her seat. It was dry and sweet, just as she liked it.

"How is school going for you?" Brielle asked as she gestured for a waiter.

"It's school," chuckled Hayden, "but it's going well, in terms of grades. I have a year left before I'll be able to start graduate school."

"Dr. Delaney," Lydia mused. "It has a nice sound, no?"

Hayden laughed. "I feel like that's terribly misleading," she countered, "I'm only going to be an animal doctor."

The waiter approached the table, and the girls all put in their orders. Lydia and Brielle both ordered exotic sounding entrees, but Hayden decided to stay safe and order a chicken Caesar salad. Her conversation with Art Stimperton hadn't left her stomach in the most agreeable mood. "Hayden," Brielle whispered, leaning closer, "that man at the bar is staring at you."

Hayden's cheeks turned a light pink color, and she tried to play off her uncomfortable feelings by laughing and drinking from her wine glass a little more. "How ridiculous," she countered as she glanced over her shoulder. There were only attractive looking men wearing suits at the bar, and Hayden only seemed to attract jerks, she noted sourly.

"He was," Lydia confirmed. "Very handsome he is also."

"You two have gotten remarkably senseless. How many drinks did you have before I got here?" Hayden demanded in an airy tone. The girls laughed and rose their own drinks so that they could clink the glasses together. The conversation turned to trivial matters such as boyfriends and shoes and recent vacations soon after, which made Hayden relax. She was able to fall into a comfortable stupor with her friends, and her problems all seemed a little more far away.

They were halfway through their dinners when Brielle and Lydia left Hayden to go to the bathroom. Hayden continued picking at her salad for a few more minutes until she heard someone clear their throat behind her. "Excuse me."

She turned around and saw one of the handsome, suit-clad men from the bar standing behind her. She blushed immensely and held her napkin over her mouth as she replied, "Yes?"

"I was wondering if maybe I could take a seat and buy you a drink?" he suggested.

Hayden laughed and gestured to her full wine glass. "I'm good," she retorted with a smile.

He nodded and smiled in an embarrassed fashion. "I see." He laughed at himself before he added, "Sorry for bothering you."

"Oh, I didn't mean to discourage you!" Hayden countered, stopping his retreat. "Please, have a seat."

He sat down in the empty seat beside her, and in her typical, sociable fashion, Hayden held her hand out for him. "Hayden," she introduced, "Nice to meet you...?"

"Brendon," he supplied. "It's a pleasure to meet you also, Hayden."

She took a drink of her wine to chase away any scent of her Caesar dressing. "That's quite an accent you've got," she commented. "What was it originally, English? American? French?"

"It was American," admitted Brendon. "It seems that all the traveling I've done has affected it a little." He took a drink from his glass, which Hayden identified as scotch. Her grandfather had always kept scotch in the house, and this made her like Brendon a little more.

"What makes you travel so much?" Hayden continued. She noticed that Lydia and Brielle had wandered back into the dining area, but they gave her a thumbs up and took up seats at the bar.

He leaned close and conspiratorially whispered, "I'm an assassin."

She laughed loudly and inwardly wondered when was the last time a guy had made her laugh. She'd had nearly awful luck with them lately. "You have a laugh like..." Hayden tried to decide what he was going to say next, thinking of a bird and a harp and other pleasant sounds. "An injured duck."

They both laughed, Hayden at his comparison and Brendon at the shocked expression that subsequently adorned her face. "I'm joking," he admitted. "You have a very nice laugh, Hayden."

"You're very good at making me laugh, Brendon," Hayden smiled.

They continued talking for some time. The lights outside the windows grew brighter as the city became darker, and the restaurant became more crowded as well dressed people began to fill the surrounding tables and bar area. Hayden and Brendon talked about where they had grown up; Hayden told him about the quaint suburban neighborhood that had sheltered her until age eleven, and Brendon told her about his beachfront house in the United States. They discussed careers; he was quite interested in her veterinary aspirations while Hayden was impressed with his business savvy. They talked about pets, foods and vacation spots until the people around them slowly trickled out of the restaurant, and Lydia and Brielle approached the table again.

"We're so sorry, but it's very late," Lydia explained as she laced an arm through Hayden's.

Brielle handed Hayden her black jacket. "We're stealing her back now," Brielle declared, "But feel free to come visit her tomorrow." She handed Brendon a napkin with Hayden's phone number on it.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Brendon," Hayden smiled as she reluctantly let Brielle and Lydia drag her outside.

Brendon raised a hand in goodbye as he walked the two girls beckon their English friend out of the restaurant. Another man from the bar approached Brendon and commented, "You looked like you were having a nice time." He handed Brendon his jacket also.

"She's the one." Brendon's eyes were gleaming, and if he had a pulse, it would have been racing.

Back at her grandmother's apartment with Lydia and Brielle, Hayden was still a little giddy over her night. "Are you sure you guys didn't find him and plant him there?" she asked as she pulled pins loose from her chestnut waves and ran a hand through them.

"We've never seen him before," Brielle promised for what seemed like the millionth time. "He was very cute though, Hayden!"

She sighed as she pulled her earrings out. "He was," she agreed. She cleared her throat and looked away from her friends' amused eyes. "So, ice cream and Netflix?"

Lydia grinned and pulled a pair of Hayden's pajama shorts on to her lithe frame. They fell loosely around her hips. "I thought you'd never ask," she beamed. "I will get the spoons!"

She walked to the living room to start looking for a movie when she heard the doorbell ring. "Got it," she mused, mostly to herself since neither Lydia nor Brielle were within hearing distance. She glanced through the peep hole, then froze when she saw the welcome face standing in the hall outside the apartment. "One minute!" she called before she darted into the kitchen.

"He's here!" she whispered.

"Who, chere?" Brielle asked, her eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

"Brendon!" she replied in her same hushed tone. Her friends still looked confused, so she added, "The guy from the bar!"

"Oh. Well," Lydia grinned wickedly, "Bri and I will be in the living room hearing absolutely nothing." She winked at Hayden before pulling Brielle into the living room.

Hayden hurried back to the front door and opened it a little nervously. "Brendon," she smiled, "What are you doing here?"

"Your phone," he explained, holding the silver rectangle out for Hayden. "You left it at the restaurant."

She frowned a little bit. "You came all this way to give my phone back at..." She looked around for a clock and raised her eyebrows when she noticed the time. "Two in the morning?" She laughed slightly.

He chuckled too. "You're right, I... I mean, I wanted to end things differently back in the restaurant..." He had intended on simply pulling her from the apartment, but the presence of her two friends made it a little more complicated. Besides, he had been drinking on an empty stomach, and he was starving. He eyed the threshold of the apartment and glanced up, shooting her an irresistible smile.

Her expression melted into a smile as well. "Sure. Come in."

As soon as he was through the door, Brendon stepped unbearably close to Hayden and added, "I had a really nice time with you tonight." He paused to judge his effect on her from the sound of heartbeat (accelerated) and her facial expression (apprehensive).

"Me too." Her eyes rested on his lips for a second too long.

So he made his move. One hand slid through her soft hair to rest on the back of his neck, while the other pulled their hips more than politely close. The first kiss was soft, calculating and was designed to make her feel like he was genuinely interested in her. He was, admittedly, to an extent, but not because her laugh made him think of classical compositions or she said the most intriguing things. He was interested because of the smooth skin, the curves that he desperately wanted to explore and the hot, sticky blood pulsing through the veins that crossed her body.

The second kiss also had a purpose, although this one was a little more self-satisfying. It let her know that he had an idea in mind and suggested that she adopt the same train of thought. This kiss was hungry and filled with pure lust. Brendon paused to inhale deeply as his hand slid from the back of her neck to the side. His cold fingers rested over her jugular vein, and he felt his mouth water slightly.

"I don't normally do this," Hayden began as she took a few steps backwards towards the steps that led to the second floor of the apartment.

"Nor do I," Brendon lied in his best tone of sincerity.

They were in her bedroom as her clumsy human fingers finished unbuttoning Brendon's shirt, and he managed to unzip her skirt and pull her shirt over her head in a fluid motion. As she took a small step out of the black skirt, Brendon examined the room. It was clean, crisp and tastefully decorated. However, it was also quite modern, and he felt that he didn't quite like it. His hyper-sensitive eyes quickly calculated that two large steps would lead them to the queen sized bed and grey duvet. She didn't need much guidance, and Brendon was thankful for that. It would have been insulting to think he had to suggest everything.

Once she was under him, so exposed and equally needy, Brendon had to pause and check his control. They were in two separate places now; although Brendon was turned on just like the girl, it was the blood that was keeping him on edge. If he didn't need her for William, he would have ripped her neck open just to drink more quickly. It would have been messy and therefore fun, and he could only imagine how much he would enjoy watching the color drain from her.

He kissed her again, trying with all of his control not to growl. He had growled once, and the unfortunate girl had noticed, which meant that he hadn't gotten to have any fun with her before he killed her. Hayden's skin was warm, and her cheeks were flushed with blood. He had to bite his own lip.

Hayden tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn't quite make her lungs inhale deeply. It simply wasn't possible while Brendon was leaning over her, his hands and lips working magic. She was almost certain that if he hadn't been so cold, she would have been in flames.

Their lips connected again, and she could feel his nails digging into the skin on her hips. His fingers lightly grazed the lace topped underwear, and Hayden felt herself unintentionally blush again. It was a bad habit of hers.

He watched the blush grown in her neck and chest, and he knew there were be no stopping himself. He prayed he didn't kill her as lowered his mouth to her neck. He would try to control himself as he settled on the frantic little vein. It seemed to know that he was coming for it. Then, with one look at the beautiful, nearly naked girl below him, Brendon opened his mouth and bit down hard.

She gasped and jerked away slightly before Brendon picked a hand up and placed it on her chest so that she couldn't move away from his voracious mouth. He let his mouth fill entirely with the crimson liquid before he finally swallowed and took another long gulp. It was delicious, so sweet and inviting, and it was much better than the packaged stuff that Travis kept in the fridge at home. It was fresh, warm and all for him.

He knew it was time to stop when he felt her movements become weak and slow, but he couldn't quite stop himself. He drank again, deeply, and savored the rich taste and became somewhat relieved when she stopped moving. Her stillness allowed Brendon to use both hands to pull her neck closer.

He would have kept drinking if the door of her bedroom didn't open, and Ryan didn't pull him away from the delicious neck. "You're killing her, Brendon," Ryan said loudly in an attempt to break through the blood induced trance the Dandie was stuck in.

Brendon snarled at Ryan and tried to return to the waiting vessel of the savory drink. Jon joined Ryan in the room, and together the two managed to force Brendon into a white chair. They held him tightly while Spencer came in to clean things up. While Brendon was usually a very clean eater, he had made a bit of a mess, and the grey duvet was thrown into the fireplace in the room so that the blood splatters wouldn't be found.

The grip being applied to his arms by Ryan and Jon had grown lax by the time Spencer picked Hayden up so that he could deposit her in the waiting town car behind the apartment building. Brendon pulled away from them and walked towards Spencer and Hayden. He felt Spencer tense as he wondered what Brendon was going to do next.

He enjoyed the tension that was flowing between Spencer, Ryan and Jon for a moment as he pulled his clothes back on. Finally, Brendon approached the girl, put a hand under Hayden's head and turned her neck so that he could see the cuts left by his fangs. The area was still damp with blood, and Brendon licked it to seal the puncture sites as well as get one final taste.

"Let's go home," he declared as he casually pulled his suit jacket back on and fixed the top button. "I feel like she's going to give us hell in the morning."