[Caligrace] Perfect Illusion

[Bjorn]

Bjorn’s bite was far worse than his bark ever could be. Pearly whites had elongated into sharpened fangs before sinking into the fragile skin of her neck. There happened many things at once after that, and what followed was ‘curveball’ on a whole new level.

His grasp on her tightened when he felt the sting of her bite, his brow furrowing. Confusion flooded his brain as the bitter blood from her cold veins filled his mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time a girl had gotten a little too rough during foreplay, but this was clearly not one of those times. He gagged as he unlatched from her throat. Cold blood had never been much of an issue with him, but the taste was not right. It was not right at all. An orange might taste unexpectedly bitter, but the undercurrent of sweetness remained. There was no sweetness to her whatsoever.

“And you’re not human,” he countered.

His grip tightened before falling away completely.
He curled his upper lip in disgust, hand cupping the healing skin at his neck.

“—what a ******* waste.”

[Caligrace]

Whatever perverse fantasies she had allowed herself to indulge in as her hunger claimed her sanity evaporated the moment she tasted his blood. The wild, almost painful craving for substance went next, the shock of the entire situation bringing her back to her senses. As her reality crashed around her, she could only connect two thoughts together within the chaos of her mind.

What have I done?
What does he mean, a waste?!

Grasping at the first one, she shoved her hand through her hair, the sudden motion peeling stray crimson strands for the gaping wound in her once flawless skin. "I don't... I'm sorry, that wasn't me. This isn't me." It wasn't a complete lie. She was well known for finding strays in the middle of the night, but she never threw herself at them. Nor did she decide to feast on them as if they were a fine wine. Swallowing the guilt that rose, she swept her hand over her face, the movement meant to mask the turmoil in her eyes.

It was then, she focused on the second thought.

"Excuse me? You're not exactly at the top of the list for the most useful thing in my life right now," she snapped, the hurt and anger evident in the bite of her voice. Shaking her head, she pushed from the tree as she smoothed a hand down her printed skirt, eyes focused on a lone blade of grass. Her lips parted to say something else, but she quickly clamped them shut and crinkled her nose, uncertain of where she went from there.

[Bjorn]

“I knew there was a catch,” Bjorn muttered under his breath, wiping pointlessly at his neck with the palm of his hand. He took another step back when Caligrace pushed off the tree, keeping the newfound distance between them constant.

Of course he wasn’t useful...
And neither was she, clearly.

In his mind’s eye, the telepath sought to decipher who she was. Tapping into that incomprehensible ability he had, he reached through the ether and read her as he’d done with few others.

Allurist.

Of course, he thought to himself with a disbelieving chuckle. They always were it seemed. Shaking his head, he glanced away.

The canopy rustled overhead, the breeze stirring the air around them. Her scent was different now that her blood had been spilled, although it could just have been the taste of her, still sour on his tongue, that was messing with his senses.

He wondered how she experienced him.
Curiosity had him glancing back at Caligrace, both brows arched.

“Well this will be a fun anecdote to tell no one.”

[Caligrace]

“Speak for yourself,” she muttered, fingers brushing along her hair as her gaze snapped to his. The hunger had ebbed as the taste of his blood churned her stomach, allowing her to focus. Finally. “I didn’t know much. That’s what I get for allowing myself to starve.” The truth flowed easily from her tongue as she dropped her hand, palm resting on her flat stomach as it gave another painful twist. The unease was clear on her face, her eyes tightening as she fought to keep what little she had consumed from making a grand entrance all over his shoes. As if that could make this situation any worse.


Wrapping her arms around herself, she used the palms of her hands to smooth out the wrinkles in her sweater as her honeyed gaze swept across the park. It seemed that the moment the temperature dropped, Harper Rock fled for the safety and warmth of their fireplaces, leaving the city abandoned. Usually, the lack of laughter and voices would have bothered her, the silence deafening - but tonight, it was proving to be just what she needed. She was far from a prideful person, her anxiety keeping her grounded and her thoughts hidden behind a bright smile, but if anyone had witnessed her utter failure, she would never had been able to live it down. As it was, feeling the weight of his gaze on her as his lips quirked into a smile was enough to set her teeth on edge.


“Is there a reason you’re staring at me, handsome?” Despite the flirtatious wording, there was an undercurrent of annoyance as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, eyes narrowing. The intensity of his gaze had her fidgeting, fingers fighting to find something - anything - to keep her occupied as his gaze all but stripped her of her clothing. Without realizing it, she took a step back - and then another - until she found herself back against the tree, the bark digging into the soft of her back. “Seriously, you’re hot and all, Brian, but you’re looking at me like I’m something to eat, and we both know how that ends.” Her laugh was forced as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, fingers finally tightening on the strap of her bag as she moved to step around him, though she came to a stop only a foot away.


You’re lost, aren’t you?

[Bjorn]

Bjorn had always enjoyed getting under people’s skin. Out of the three boys in the family, he had the sharpest observation skills and tongue. He never truly did it out of malice, though he’d had the occasional drink (or knuckle sandwich) thrown at him because of his attitude.

It was obvious by the quirk of his mouth and the arch of his brow, that he was thoroughly amused at Caligrace’s expense. He reached up to fix the collar of his shirt and jacket, using the cuff to wipe at his neck in passing.

“The shop back at Lancaster’s sells packs,” he revealed. It really was none of his business, but he’d been left to starve by critical injuries on more than one occasion, and remembered vividly the way his body had punished him for the denial. “If you’re that desperate.”

After tonight’s failed attempt, the telepath might settle for a pint himself. He’d gone out without definite plans, but the thought of hunting for another prey wasn’t all that inviting. Maybe if he simply went back to the pub for his phone, he’d spot someone to feed on. And this time, he’d make sure to appraise them first.

[Caligrace]

Just keep calm, girl. It’s not the end of the world. You’re only in the middle of nowhere with a gaping hole in your neck. It’s nothing you can’t handle. Just breathe.

God, you’re a ******* moron, aren’t you?

Ignoring the biting sarcasm of her subconscious, she slowly loosened her white knuckled grip on her strap and blew out a resigned sigh. “Does it? I’ve never been,” she admitted on a whim as she tapped one lilac painted nail against the leather of her bag anxiously. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him for directions, her lips parting as the first syllable began to form, but she found herself sighing instead. There was nothing shy about her - from the bold way she dressed, to the way she charmed her way out of almost anything.


There was, however, the matter of pride.

Let’s not forget the ‘matter’ of your anxiety, either. You need to be medicated.

It wasn’t the first time she had found herself lost - nor would it be the last. Her phone was primed with the most updated version of a GPS that could be purchased, and yet, the only thing the annoying voice managed to do was lead her into darkened alleys littered with trash and drunken fools. Yeah, blame the automated system, Cali. That’ll do wonders for you. Clinging to her bag as if it were her lifeline, she turned to face the man, her fingers slowly tracing over the rugged, jagged wound that his freakish fangs had left behind.


“Where is it located?” It wasn’t exactly asking for help, but the desperation had finally won. As much as the thought of spending her night isolated in the dark with a gorgeous man appealed to her, there was the pressing matter of their hunger - and his sharp, animalistic fangs. Eyeing his mouth warily, she cupped her hand against her wound and smiled, free hand tucking into the pocket of her sweater to anxiously crumple a piece of paper around.

[Bjorn]

Bjørn cocked a brow at the redhead, then glanced towards the path they’d deviated from to get here. Had she really not taken any account of her surroundings, or had the shock wiped clean her recent memory? He looked back at her with furrowed brows as he took a few steps back, hands finding the depths of his pockets. When he pivoted on his heel to trace back the way they’d come, he spoke.

“It’s back the way we came from.”

If he paused past the exposed roots to wait for her, it was subtle.
He glanced down at his watch.

“There’s also a shop on the corner up over there, but it might not be open yet. Either way, they are that way. Station, on the other hand, is that way.”

He motioned with his head in the exact opposite direction.

[Caligrace]

When he furrowed his brows, she merely arched one of hers, expression smoothing into one more natural for her. The panic still twisted in her gut, mixing with the guilt to create what was surely a recipe for disaster. Knowing she had to maintain her composure, she pulled her shoulders back and smiled. After all, if he was going to finish what he started, he would have by now. Ignoring the flash of pain in her already healing throat, she pulled her hair over her shoulder to hide the wound and motioned him forward just as he began to stroll away.


“I admit, I’m awful with directions. It’s a flaw that I have yet to be able to fix. Nothing seems to work for me. Even the GPS is pure disaster.” It didn’t seem to bother her that she was suddenly revealing a weakness that he could easily exploit, had he the desire to. Her pride was tossed to the side in a desperate attempt to find her way back to civilization. Biting into the corner of her lip, she dared a look up at his face, her eyes searching for some sort of sign as to what he was thinking. She fed on emotions - and yet, she couldn’t feel a single thing coming from him, as her own were screaming too loud for her to pluck them apart.


“So, am I ever going to get your real name, or are you forever deemed a Brian?”


She’d never had a problem with conversation, and even now, as he seemed hell-bent on ridding himself of her - and the memory of this night - she kept true to herself. Pursing her lips, she dashed a few steps to keep up with his long strides, her small stature causing her to have to take a few extra steps just to keep pace.

[Bjorn]

Bjørn’s mother had no sense of direction whatsoever. The first time she’d come to New York to visit him, he’d tried both sending her directions via Google Maps and directing her over the phone, but had still managed to find her many blocks away from where he’d expected to.

The telepath was good at giving explanations, eager to remain concise and clear in his instructions. His mother’s lack of orientation had taught him from a young age to give directions by way of visual cues as opposed to street names and contextless bearings. Force him to use a GPS however, and his entire mental image of an area was scrambled. Too often he’d been relied upon to catch up on the GPS’ misdirection, only to grow frustrated as he felt like a fish out of the water, unable to position himself. The day he started driving was the day stress levels in the car had significantly decreased.

Focused on the gravel path ahead, his footfalls quiet on the matted grass, Bjørn felt a wave of melancholy brush against him. He’d spent too long avoiding these thoughts, and what could have been an icy wind cutting through him was merely a breeze that stirred his exterior. He remained centred despite the fleeting emotion.

“Bjørn,” he conceded, drawn out from his lapse of attention. The soles of his shoes crunched against the gravel as they began the trek back, the mood this time much different than it had been the first time. He spared a thought to his conversation with Lancaster regarding identity, transparency, and the future of vampires in this world, and wondered whether he was not better off keeping the illusion of Brian with other vampires too. Truth was, keeping up appearances was too much work, and he had shared his name with others he had been far less intimate with.

He rolled his tongue across his palate, the taste of her blood still there.

[Caligrace]

“Bjørn.”

His name rolled off of her tongue with ease, and she found herself repeating it a few times beneath her breath, as if testing the accuracy - and how well it sounded. Her theory with names continuing to prove true, she allowed herself another slow, unabashed glance towards his features. Strong, certain - and a bit distracted - the name fit him. Running her tongue along her lower lip, she bit into the soft muscle in thought before shaking her head. “Elin would just love to meet you,” she said in whimsical way, her eyes bright with amusement. “I’m sure you’d remind her of some Norse god, pulled straight from one of her many well-read romance novels.” Tossing him another smile, she pulled her sweater tight around her form and crossed her arms, her steps quickened and lips pursed.

“I didn’t lie. My name is actually Caligrace. I doubt anyone could make that name up if they tried.” Why was she telling him all of this? It was if her mouth opened, and she couldn’t close it. Blaming it on the hunger and the shock of the evening, she bit the inside of her lip and relaxed her shoulders, her posture less tense in an instant. It wasn’t normal, the fact she found herself actually beginning to enjoy his company. He was a stranger, of course, a rather intimate one - but still, she just now learned his true name. Other than that, she knew absolutely nothing about him. Idiot, girl. You’re just an idiot.

Sliding her bag to face her, she slipped her hand inside and pulled out her cell, just in time to catch the end of a call. Opting to ignore it, she dropped it back into the shadows of her purse and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. It was strange, the void she felt coming from him. It was if he had a shield securing him. For once, she wished that she could control the way her powers worked, so she could figure out just what he felt. The man was proving to be an enigma, in just the few minutes they’d spent together.