Emnity

[PineconeOfDust]

Unruly cascades of ochre fur appeared to drift from his form like mist as he returned to humanity. He'd transformed for the intense journey, as a wolf he was able to fathom energy which at times seemed almost infinite. Bracing himself to stand, his shadowed gaze surveyed the structure. The museum was a fragile container to some of the pack's most valued history. He eagerly paced forwards, glaring into the vast expanse behind him in order to relieve some of his anxiety. Although the vicious night only lingered on his senses more profoundly as he glimpsed the nothingness. He'd buried it. In the midst of foliage he'd prowled until he'd found a satisfactory location. Somewhere secreted from those who could use it for sombre intentions. His fists clenched distinctively, easing the tension writhing within him as he shifted into the building. The replica situated in his frayed rucksack had an affirming weight which comforted him as he crept among the exhibits.

 

[Lucyfer]

“You will come back to me.”

​

The words haunted every clicking step of the woman as she walked through the exhibit, led by a human security guard. They were the words of the man who had changed her life a century ago in London, when he decided to kill her and bring her under his wing. Then, he thought he was doing her a favor, offering her freedom women did not have.


The auburn-haired woman no longer agreed.


“It’s here,” the security guard said as he flashed his light into the room full of hieroglyphics and artifacts.


The woman had convinced him that she would never be able to see the artifacts because her job had her working so late, but she was oh-so interested in the traveling Egyptian artifacts. Humans tended to fall prey to her words. She had a natural charisma that came with her blood. Humans ought to fear her, but instead, they fell under her sway more often than not. They hung on her words. They wanted to make her happy.


It was sickening. It was how she’d been seduced. Though she hated using it, it was necessary.


‘I will never return.’ Her sire would be wrong. She was ending it, at least for herself. She did not want this life. She did not want to feed on humans. For a century she had lived it, but no longer. She finally broke the sway her sire had over her, and left.


“Thank you,” she said to the man, “Do you mind if I, ah, take a look around on my own, please? I promise I won’t touch anything.” She would, of course. They would know it was her, but by then she’d be long gone and she’d figure this out.


“Sure, just come to me when you’re done,” he said, and turned away without another thought.


The woman smiled, took out her cell phone for light, and began to walk amidst the artifacts, green eyes flashing over each one and taking the time to read the exhibit notes so that she wouldn’t pass over what she was looking for.


Her sire had told her a story of how Amun-Ra cursed vampires. Here, there were artifacts found from a dig in Egypt, from a temple to Amun-Ra, and one in particular caught her eye. It was a necklace, supposedly worn by a priestess of Amun-Ra, beloved of Amun-Ra, who was murdered. The story wasn’t fully translated by Egyptologists, but it was clear that evil had befallen her murderers.


Whatever the case, it was as good a lead to follow as any. If it was important to the Sun God, it just might help. Somehow. She had heard other stories of the origin of vampires—no one seemed to know the truth. Her sire seemed old enough, though, that he might be on the right track. Certainly, he seemed to believe it when he heard of the exhibit in werewolf territory. He had his own designs to take the museum by storm in the future. He loved his inhumanity.


The former Marchioness, Katharina Bevelle, did not.

 

[PineconeOfDust]

He couldn't return. Not now he'd betrayed them. With a gracious glance cast towards the converging figures he swiftly located the pedestal. In a frivolous attempt, he managed to return it to its position. The pearlescent gleam from the artefact was almost idyllic as he concealed himself among the immense columns which lined the space.


However his satisfaction perished within him the moment figures fell upon his vision. He'd ensured the replica was somewhat convincing. Nonetheless, he was afraid. And he loathed himself because of it. Whilst his kind fought for dominance he'd fled for peace. His glare appeared almost golden in the moonlight which leapt through the intricate windows of the museum.


Although he'd often despised his alternate form, it was beneficial to his survival. He resided to solitude, which although was lonely, it was secure and trustworthy. In the clutches of a pack, he was encased. Without freedom or choice when it came to the decision of conflict. If his intricate plot succeeded he could put a halt to it. Without the weapon, what did they have?


In the hierarchy of wolves, he was destined to fall to the very depths since his turning. Without status, he was lost. It made him irrelevant. However that had significantly posed as an advantage to him when it came to preparing his disappearance. Finch Lachlan was nothing to the pack.

 

[Lucyfer]

The necklace was there.


Katharina did not see the one who put it there, did not see the exchange, but she did test the material in her hand once she picked it up. Thankfully, there were no weight alarms for this necklace. She turned it over, admiring both its beauty and her own luck.

“You would die, if you reversed the blessing. You have lived a human lifetime.”
​

Her sire had never said those words, but his voice was stuck in her head all the same. She’d spent a century with the man, it was bound to happen. He was her annoying, vampiric, conscious.


Even so, she stuck the necklace into her jacket’s pocket. ‘I’ll accept that.’ She turned back the way she came, used her cell phone to lead herself back to the guard. “Thank you for allowing me to look around—the exhibit is fantastic,” she told him.


“Oh, you’re welcome!” He said, and then began to lead her out, chatting about how they were fortunate to even get the exhibit in this city, considering its other destinations. Katharina could tell him why, that the werewolves must have paid a fortune to bring it here so they would have a little bit of time to research those things and figure out how to finish off the vampires, but she did not.


Some habits stuck. That humans weren’t meant to know of the world around them was one tradition Katharina had no desire to break.


Outside, the man asked, “Um, I don’t mean to be too forward, but would you want to go out sometime? I—”


“Thank you,” Katharina quickly interrupted, “But I’m afraid I just don’t have the time,” the same reason she needed to get into the exhibit after hours.


Her heels clicked down the steps as he showed his disappointment.

 

[PineconeOfDust]

Finch, who had drifted into the shadows on order to conceal himself was crippled by a tension which thrived in his veins. Why had she taken it? He'd observed the encounter with those who had entered and the abduction of the artefact he'd just replaced. In a flurry of bafflement, he pondered to the entrance of the museum, lividly glancing to the departing figure.


He lamented the degrading process he'd encountered to find and swap the object initially. His entire plan had crumbled to dust before his ominous gaze. His hopes were being slaughtered by this mysterious stranger.


He darted out of the building, a reverent lift at the corner of his mouth unleashed in amusement as the museum guard's alarmed expression loomed behind his footfalls. He threw an amiable salute backwards as he continued on his trek.


Running, it was escapism for Finch. The soft thunder of his feet pounding across the firm ground. He was haunted by his memory, the containment of his past. Running was freedom. But initiating contact with this thief was another situation altogether.

 

[Lucyfer]

Ever since becoming a vampire, certain senses had been heightened. Well, all of them. The scent of werewolf was all around this area, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t until the sounds of running feet caught her attention, that she considered one of their ilk might actually be close. ‘Great.’ Taking something from their museum was bound to draw attention. She hadn’t considered it guarded by anything more than humans.


It hadn’t looked that way the week she’d scoped it out.


Katharina reached within her jacket once more, but this time her fingers wrapped around the metal of a gun.


‘One, two.’


The auburn-haired vampire spun around and pointed the gun at the creature running after her. “Stop.” If he did not, she would fire it. There were silver bullets loaded. Much as Katharina hated her own condition, murder was not the way she wanted to die, and she wasn’t about to let any foolish werewolf bring her down. She’d been a part of this war, earlier. She knew how to kill them.

 

[PineconeOfDust]

He halted promptly as his journey was forced to sunder. Communicating affirmed conflict to ensue, especially in consideration of who she was. What she was. He had proposed turning to avoid her threat, assert his force. However doing so would only mean faltering to what he loathed. He'd be alike so many of the others in his pack. Ruthless and arrogant. Although he'd pursued her, he'd had no intention to harm her. Only to understand her motives.


His intense, striking features drifted sharply to the ground before her with a wry smirk appealing to his lips. He rose his dishevelled palms in surrender to her plausible attack and eventually lifted his elusive gaze to hers.


"If you fancy I can gift wrap that for you." He remarked tentatively. Directing his morose glare towards her luggage. His chivalrous baritone was laced with depth. As if the exact intention of his words could have multiple meanings to decipher.

 

[Lucyfer]

The wolf is no fool, and so he comes to a halt. It does not cause Katharina to lower her gun. She hesitates to take a step back from him. Yet, he has looked down, and so she does, thinking to leave him there without further words.


It does not come to pass. He looks up as she steps backwards and makes a snide comment, looking at the purse she carries. The necklace is not there, but she understands his implications all the same. ‘What use do I have for it?’ The purse is full of lies and canceled bank cards, a false identity created because of immortality.


The woman lets it slide off her shoulder, to her elbow, and then lets it descend into her hand. She tosses it to the ground at his feet. “Have fun,” and she turns her back on him, thinking he’ll look in the bag for a long enough time period for her to escape into the night. She does not run, though. That would be weak, and she has no intention of losing face now.


She walks, and she listens for the sounds of him behind her, or other wolves. They travel in packs, after all.

 

[PineconeOfDust]

He lamented the possibilities of drifting after her. A ghost contemplating her every manoeuvre. During the conversation, simply departing without her luggage was instantly recognisable as a ploy to avert him from where the artefact really was. She wouldn't leave it behind. There had to be a reason.


Sloping after her in his swift, daring stride he began to amble at her speed beside her. Leaving the bag abandoned in the dust.


He fathomed an amiable remark in order to retain her attention.


"That's a bit cheeky, I know you still have it." His Irish descent became apparent as the accent tangled his words. Although not unkindly. It complemented the richness of his voice in the most peculiar of ways.

 

[Lucyfer]

The wolf still dared to follow her. The gun is still in her hand, but Katharina does not point it at him. She keeps her green eyes forward as he speaks, words accented. It makes her wonder if he is all that old, or if he only recently traveled from Ireland.


Her own accent has long since gone, only coming up when she got blood-drunk. “And?” Of course she still had it. What she didn’t understand was what the wolf intended to do about it. Evidently, she wasn’t going to hand it over. The gun was evidence enough that she would, in fact, kill to keep the necklace. No amount of talking was going to convince her otherwise.


She just kept walking with her eyes ahead. “If you intend to take it, I suggest you alert your pack. It will take more than you to get it from me.” She hadn’t survived in this area on her own by sheer luck, after all. There were reasons her sire chose her, and she’d lived up to most of his expectations—sans the fact she hated her condition. He couldn’t teach her to like it, even if he could teach her everything else.