“Evening,”
Emmingway nodded as the new recruit stepped out of the
shadows.
George
nodded silently, his eyes surveying their location. Immediately they
settled on a girl standing on the opposite end of the alley,
seemingly oblivious to the two men stalking her.
She
was beautiful with long, slender legs and a decent sized bust. Waves
of long, glistening golden hair cascaded from her head to her
shoulders, flowing down her back to end at her hips. Her skin was
pale, unnaturally, beautifully pale. She wore a lacey, bow covered
white dress that puffed out like a cupcake at her waiste, her legs
covered by white tights decorated by red bows. Finishing the look was
a pair of bright red rounded shoes that looked like they belonged on
a doll.
No,
George thought, those shoes belonged on those dainty little feet. She
was a doll. Her face was turned upwards, toward the dark, clear sky.
If not for the very, very subtle movement of her breathing, he would
have thought his mentor had mistaken a life size doll for their prey.
He tilted his head to the side, examining her closely. There was no
sign, aside from her skin, that she was what they thought she could
be.
“Em,
are you sure?” George frowned, crossing his arms.
“No,
that's why I called you in. Ya'know, to get a newbie's fresh and
imaginative input She was seen leaving the kill site last night. I've
been tailing her ever since, but...”
“...She
doesn't look anything like one of them.” George finished, but then
shrugged, “well, whatever she is, she's not human. She's certainly
caught my interest. Stay here as back up. I'll approach.”
“Is
that really a good idea?” Emmingway hissed, but George laughed
loudly, making the other man flinch.
“She
already knows we're here. Don't you sweetheart?” George replied,
raising his voice.
The
girl turned slowly to face them, meeting George's grin with pale
yellow eyes. She place a hand on her chest and gave a small
bow.
“The
sky is clear tonight. The moon bright. Perfect for a hunt, yes?”
asked the girl...no the woman with a young looking face.
George
was struck instantly by the ageless youth of her face. He could not
make a good guess at her age, but he knew she was not older than 40
but no younger than 18. He ran a list of supernatural being that
could look like this, but there were too many to list. Any of the
long lived or immortal could look like that, though generally only
the really really difficult to deal with looked so stunningly
beautiful and...fake.
“What
are you?” He asked, taking several steps forward.
The
woman was not at all phased by his approached and even offered a
small smile.
“What
are you, ye who travel through shadows? When I first noticed you I
thought you to be another blood sucker. However, blood suckers don't
willingly work with the Hunters and I see no collar around your
neck.” The woman chuckled, covering her mouth.
“Another?
Are you implying that you are a blood sucker?” George asked, taking
another, slow step forward.
“I
will be whatever you want me to be. You've already made up your mind
as for what you will do with me, have you not? I can see it in your
eyes. You won't kill me.”
“George?”
Emmingway called.
“That's
right, so if you'll comply with us and come along willingly, that
would be great.” George beamed, earning another chime like
laugh.
“But,
good sir, you did not give an answer to my question! I was nice
enough to give a reply.”
“That
was you answer, hmm? Then I, too, am whatever you wish. I will say
this, though. I am not a blood sucker. You can rest assured with
that. I know vamps don't get along well with anyone, kin or not. I
imagine a pretty lady like yourself has plenty to worry about from
them,” George said.
“Yes
and no. My life is in no danger. It is simply unfortunate that
everyone who sees me instantly gets into their mind that...they must
have me. You too, think so, yes?”
“Yes.
So let me catch you. I'll put you in a beautiful, spacious cage and
give you all you could ever wish.”
“Then
catch me.”
George
lurched forward, his arms spread out wide, ready to wrap them around
the young woman. If she was a blood sucker as Emmingway had so
feared, she would not be able to escape...but she would have the
perfect chance to dig her fangs into George. Not that he cared. He
wanted her...needed her. He was sure he could get her and once he
had, he would protect her, keep her out of sight, safe, spoiled.
But
she was gone, leaving not a trace that she had ever been there but
for a cackle in the sky above. Soon that too was gone, only to be
replaced by the hooting and laughing of Emmingway. George let out an
growl and spun to face his mentor who was howling with laughter and
beating his fist against the brick wall of the alley.
“You!
You set me up, didn't you!” George yowled in fury, his face red
with embarrassment.
“Oh,
oh man, she got you good! Oh man!” Emmingway yowled.
George
turned away and glowered up at the sky.
“A
shifter?” He demanded.
“Something
like that. Shifter-Temptress mutt. Not another in the world like 'er
and likely never will be. But damn I thought you would catch on
quicker! Ha ha ha ha! Oh man, George, you never fail to give me a
laugh!”
“For
God's sake!” George snapped.
“Well,
I thought you'd like to see something even more unusual than you.
Mutts aren't too usual these days, shadowling.” Emmingway
giggled.
“So,
are you gunna catch her?” he asked as George calmed
slightly.
“Hell
yeah. The hunt is on. I got her shadow, it'll miss her, I'm sure.”
George grinned, holding something up for Emmingway to examine.
It
was the shadow of a large bird.
“Watch
out, lad. Everyone is after her. Having the White Crow in a cage has
become somewhat of a status symbol.” Emmingway warned, but that
just made George laugh.
“This
just makes it all the more fun. Her cage won't be one with bars or
walls though.”
“Please,
for the love of the Gods, don't say-”
“It'll
be my heart.”
“Aaand
you still said it.”
“Shut
up, Em, let's go.”