Why are humans NEVER where you put them!?!?!

“Come in Cian.” I smiled to myself, thinking how ridiculous I must have seemed to the vampire who can read the energy and events of any place at any time. Still smiling I pushed the door open just enough to slide myself in. There she stood in the middle of her stone cell, fresh from the bath. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned, piled high on her head so it wouldn’t get wet. She was a vision wrapped in white terry cloth, the towel contrasting her pale skin; I stood staring at her beauty. She allowed me to gaze at her immortal bounty while she slowly removed her towel leaving it a pile on the floor, reminding me, revealing even more of her to my ancient eyes. I returned my thoughtful eyes to her face and asked if she was ready to go back into the library. She removed the binding in her hair, shaking it loose.

“Madliene requests my presence this evening, so you’re on your own tonight,” she said as she slipped her feet into and pulled up the black body suit she would be displaying at the club, sliding her arms through the tank top straps, securing them to her shoulders. “I want to help you,” and she trailed off continuing her sentence in a slightly lower tone, “more than you know.”

“Have you heard from her?” I rephrased to deter any insinuation of my desire to see her again. “When will you be checking in on Babet then?” I asked exasperatedly.

“Not yet, I haven’t heard from her. Cain, think you can handle it?” She replied cautiously, then with a hint of humor.

I stood watching as Estella bent over to grab a pair of black stiletto lace up heels, admiring her assets. I loved Estella, I have always loved Estella. Of course my obsessions for the time being had turned elsewhere.

“You better be glad you are so fucking exquisite.” I said ominously before turning to leave, she stopped me cold but I didn’t turn back to face her.

“Thanks Cian.” A sweet smile in her voice. I bent my head and closed the haven door.

I can admit that since the night I met Estella I had been obsessed with her, but I am not what Estella normally desires, and what Estella desires, Angelique, has been a recluse since the taking of her sister, Sophia. But this current lack of respect for our common knowledge of her preferences was infuriatingly… satisfying?

I shook these thoughts and smiled at the thought of Estella, nodding to her as I made my exit from her chamber. The heavy door clasped and I made my way back down the hall to the stone cylinder where the spiral staircase sat. I rounded the floors until I got to club level, stepped out of the staircase, crossed the foyer and flung open the large wooden doors, revealing Morte’ in its pre-glory. With the house lights up; there was no mystery to the vampire club. I noticed Sophia as I crossed the “dance floor”, she was dressed in the same black cat-suit that Estella had graciously, in my presence, dressed in.

She flashed me a weak smile and I returned one to her as I walked out the door. I decided to make a quick trip to my haven to acquire a meal and additional components should I need them tonight.
I was to check in on her….Alone. This fact made me feel delightfully uneasy, giddy even. Should that thing find her, I would be prepared. I reached my own warehouse, took the elevator up and gathered what I needed. I suspect I moved a little stealthier knowing I would be in the presence of Babet, and possibly her children, alone.

This prospect in itself would be a violation of our current vampire code. No vampire is to be in the presence of children, alone or chaperoned. The sweet smell of their innocent blood can send some of us into frenzy. I began think positively regarding tonight, straightened myself as I made my trek.

I thought, “Fortunately, I am old enough to be aware of the danger I pose for Babet and her children and being as I still harbor humanity”, I felt confident in myself. Then the terrible came through. And I began to think that in spite of my age, I am still a vampire and a primal being by nature. This enlightenment invoked thoughts of taking this woman and sexually ravaging her, ingesting her crimson flow and never let her out of my sight.

Thoughts that frightened even me spiraled in my mind as I reached the entry to the unit of Audubon Trace townhouses where the Queen had “stashed” the woman and her two children. Just like I had stood outside of Estella’s chambers, I found myself doing the same, staring at the door to the townhouse. Inside a confused young woman and her small children wait to be instructed by a coven of vampires, one of which is their descendant.
What where we doing? Why had we become involved? Normally, we would let the chips fall where they may as far as humans are concerned, if a human is victimized by a vampire; that is just how it is. This woman was different somehow, to me, to Madliene, but especially; Estella.

The Audubon Trace community is even more Stepford at twilight; a conglomerate of townhouses inside the French Quarter, a location central to almost everything for Babet. She would be within distance of her studio now gutted by flame and ash. Not only would she be able to settle the affairs of the burnt out frame of the building, but she would be able to transport Scarlet to and from school without driving too far.

All the units in the Trace were designed differently; including Madliene’s…or Babet’s. I stood staring at the double stacked bay windows on the front of the townhouse which gave it a feel of real homeliness inside and out. No lights illuminated the top bay window or the bottom. I immediately get a suspicious feeling, my guts wrenching inside with extreme anxiety when I realize her car is not in the lot.

I climbed the few step and knock on the door, there is no answer, I knock again slightly harder and with the fervor of feeling something was amiss. I raised my fist and beat the door to the ground, causing a devastating crash inside. The small stained glass window shattered on the floor at my feet. I do a quick recon, the only sign of Babet, Scarlet or Henri, was the twenty shopping bags at the bottom of the staircase.

I bound up the stairs, the four poster cannon bed looked as though no one had slept in it. I crossed the hall to the secondary bedrooms and the same result. As if they hadn’t stayed here during last night. I am agitated, disturbed and furious. I quickly text Estella, who by now should still be getting ready for work.
“TELL ME YOU HEARD FROM HER?!?!”

Immediately I get a reply.
“Where are you?”

God, she infuriates me more than my current predicament.

“AUDUBON!!!!” I reply

“CHRIST!”

It’s five, grueling minutes before I get another text from Estella and it’s obvious she is less concerned than I as I am wearing a path into the dark wooden floor.

“She is at her friend Frankie’s house.”
Frankie, the petite blonde at the presentation, I roll my eyes…..women! I text Estella back and it’s clear I am not in the mood for “around the bend”.
“ADDRESS!!!”

There, that should spark a bit of a fire under the vampire great (who knows how many) aunt. My phone rings.

“What.” I am short and stern with Estella.

“Cian, I don’t think she is in any danger spending the evening with her friend. She’s lost a lot and I am sure she could use some familiar bonding.” Estella is optimistically cautious with her words. I am silent.

“Cian? You there?”

I sigh, “Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

“Look, I gave her your number, if she needs you she’ll call.”

I decide to keep my dark theories to myself tonight. But the fact of the matter is, if she’s dead before she can reach the phone, we may have a problem. Her friends can’t protect her like we can, at least physically. I am very sure that Babet is taking in quite a bit of mental protection talking and spending, how did Estella put it, “Familiar bonding” time and I understand, we are extremely unfamiliar, but we intend to have her best interests at heart.

Then I begin to think about seeing one of us in action, yes she would be impressed but I am sure frightened. To see someone you trust with you and your children’s safety rip someone in half to do so may come as quite a shock. I realize I haven’t responded to Estella.

“I broke the door at Audubon.” I am ashamed at my fervor.

Estella laughs heartily before saying, “You do have it bad!”

“Just tell Madliene.” My tone is exasperated as I push the button to hang up on a laughing Estella.

I cross the foyer to the great room, plopping down on the overstuffed furniture. Can this be true, vampire bounty hunter; Cian has nothing to do for the night?! It’s an unsettling thought but a welcome one. I smile to myself looking around the starkly decorated townhouse. The Queen really isn’t much for grandiose décor when in her own home I suppose, considering the club is so ornately decorated.

I wasn’t clear on how much time the Queen even spent here; she has a vast chamber and all comforts of home at Morte’. I also suppose that for someone who has property all over the world, keeping up with modern décor would be quite a chore. I am easily bored, so I take the time to inspect the townhouse, conveying its tiniest details to memory.

The walls are of course, red and adorned with local art; paintings and sketches, pottery and photography, including a modest shot of the Moonwalk taken by Molly DuBois. The cream crown molding and baseboards are immaculate of dust. The furniture is overstuffed yet modern, in a large beige hounds-tooth print. The floors throughout are dark wood and the majority of it is covered in the great room by a geometric rug. There is a small dark pub table with four bars chairs in a corner off the great room. The stone fireplace houses a large mirror on the mantle.

Through the hall behind the couch is an updated kitchen, with granite counter-tops, cherry cabinets and a deep farm style sink. The access to the back yard is through a set of French doors that lead to a covered porch. I come back through the hall and round the corner to climb the steps. I stop on the small landing at the very top, directly in front of me a closet housing washer and dryer and to the right a master bedroom, decked out in a dark wood colonial four poster cannon style bed, draped with damask bedding and littered with pillows.
Dark matching bedside tables; a chest-on-chest and dressing table tucked into the corners of the grand room. I go in, on the far left are double doors that open to a spa-style bathroom, a basin tub backs up to a shower stall with travertine tile and river rock accent, a glass door and glass sink basins inside granite counter tops.

I leave the master and my boots clomp down the hall as I inspect the two secondary bedrooms. Both have similar bedroom suites, sleigh beds covered in modest white bedding. A single tiny nightstand accompanies a single chest of drawers. There is a communal bath in the hall, similar to the master. I look beyond the glass shower door and see a small whale baby bath toy, Henri’s.
I smile at the thought of the, no doubt, spry little boy, sleeping angelically in his mother’s safe arms. I feel the vibration and hear the default ringtone as my phone buzzes in my back pocket; I pull it out and see a number I am unfamiliar with. I grab the tiny toy and answer my phone.

“Cian.” I say as dull and serious as possible because this may be a job.
“Hi…..um, this is Babet.”

An enjoyable rush comes over me; I am elated and floored at the improved sound of her voice.

“Hello.” I can feel the enchantment in my voice looming.

She laughs and I almost crumble to the floor, it’s a magnetizing sound. I feel my teeth run out.

“Henri….put that….thank you,” Her voice sings at the final words. “Sorry about that…..um, I just wanted to call and apologize for not being at the townhouse when you arrived, I….desperately needed…some, familiarity.”

Estella words return to haunt me and I am silent before reassuring her, “Understandable, I accept.”

“Accept…..what?”

“Your apology.”

“Oh, yes.” She laughs, I die inside.

“Thank you. Again, I am very sorry.” Her tone is genuinely apologetic.

“I’m glad you are receiving the support you need and please tell your friend we would like to meet her at her earliest convenience.” I am struggling to remain calm and not demand the address of her friend.

“Well, she will be back in town on Friday; she left for North Carolina this morning. A little worse for wear, I admit, after we show up on her doorstep….” She trails off.

I am growing increasingly frantic but I have to curb my primal instinct to lash out over the phone. How can I be overbearing when she has no idea the lengths we are willing go to in order to protect and preserve her and her two children. I must quiet the fire and turn the charm on full high to rectify the situation. She must realize that what she is confessing is in complete disregard for the calculating steps we have set in place to help her. I take a deep breath and I get the feeling she is aware of my irritation.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” She asks sheepishly.

“Mad can mean many things. Would you mind if we discussed this face to face?” My reply is calm, cold maybe, but it’s what is required.

“Um….” She is wary and apprehensive, the same as she was last night. “I think Frankie would be okay with it. Sure.” Her tone turns positive.

I hang up with Babet and make my way down the stairs, glass littering the floor at the bottom. I secured the door to the best of its ability and leaving Audubon I realize that there is a basement level I wasn’t able to inspect. But for now I will assume it’s the, impenetrable by light, space reserved for Madliene.