Freedom in Doses [RIVER]

[Jasmine]

Shaking her head, Jasmine gave a disappointed sigh.

It was that time of the year again, when she would be pumping dollar upon dollar into the retail traps that swallowed her wealth without complaint, as she did her best to fill some sort of void that she had made between herself and everyone that she loved. Even River was distant with her most of the time, and she was the one that she had chosen to follow, chosen to spend the rest of her eternity with.

She had only recently gotten the Latina bombshell to think of her as her partner, instead of a massive mistake, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to bring on the change, but she wasn’t going to complain. She loved River, and wanted more than anything for her to return that feeling. At least, this year, she was making headway. She had watched as River had all but splattered Skittles all over the wall of their new apartment in a fit of rage, just a few weeks ago, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what had caused that burst of emotion from the usually composed and subdued River, but she didn’t complain. It had done miraculous things for her, to see River leaving that slut clinging to life by a thread.

The redhead was on the mend now, much to Jasmine’s chagrin, but she still replayed that scene over and over in her mind on a nightly basis. She’d be a liar if she said it hadn’t been exciting to see River so violent, so emotional. It had been… arousing.

She took in a sharp breath, and realized again that she was standing in a line at the shop, an expensive jacket draped over her arm. She had seen the coat and had just known that she would get it for River. The cold might not bother her these nights, as it didn’t bother Jasmine, or any of their kind, but, she thought, the woman might appreciate the sentiment of warmth, the gesture of closeness and thoughtfulness in what promised to be a bitter winter for them both.

As she regained her bearings, she realized she was next in line. She laid the expensive Burberry coat over the counter and gave the cashier a bright smile, the girl just staring at her with the same dead stare of most retail workers during the holiday season. She was likely a seasonal employee, just there for the rush, and gone with the holidays like so many of the others, but still, she could show just a little enthusiasm. She worked in an absolutely marvelous store.

Her phone buzzing in her back pocket, Jasmine worked her fingers into the tight denim as she swiped her card, the blonde behind the register turning her dull, brown eyes to her and staring up at the tall Latina. “Just a second and I’ll bag this,” she droned lifelessly as Jasmine turned her attention to her phone.

It was River, again, with just an address.

Sometimes, this sort of exchange made her feel like a booty call. That’s what others might think, had they swiped her phone. More than that, though, she was usually to meet up with her partner for “drinks.” Usually meaning a few minutes of the other woman latched to her throat, taking what she pleased to appease her hunger.

If Jasmine was completely candid, she loved it, though, and would let River take as she pleased, as often as she pleased. It was an experience the likes of which she couldn’t have described to anyone if she tried.

Without a glance to the woman, she swiped her receipt and the bag from the register and hurried away. She wasn’t far, actually, which was much more convenient than usual. Her fingers flying across her phone, she texted the woman that she would be there in two heartbeats.

She tossed the bag over her shoulder and sighed, looking up at the night sky and wrinkling her nose. The crisp cold made the stars particularly easy to see tonight. It was beautiful. Maybe she could convince River to do a little stargazing with her, later.

Those thoughts, though, vanished when she came around the dark alley next to the old bar that River had given her the address for. This was their usual rendezvous, someplace quiet and dark; private and intimate. When she expected to stumble across River waiting for her there, the woman in her arms was the last thing that Jasmine had expected.

Dumbfounded, Jasmine dropped the bag at her side and shook her head. “Oh, what the **** is this?” she snapped, her hand already grasping for her switchblade.

[Haylee Rae (DELETED 9724)]

The pain lanced Hayley’s innards like a forest fire razing every tree to the ground to make way for new growth. The girl didn’t make a fanfare out of it. Cramps clenched her gut, muscles spasming in all her limbs. But Hayley only whimpered, clutching at the cloth of the clothing that her saviour wore. She paid no mind to what the woman did, and was not aware of the phone or the summoned company. She focused only on the pain and on the hope that it would pass sooner rather than later.

The words reached her through a mountain of fog and she nodded. It was a quick nod, a distracted nod. She believed the woman, she believed that everything would be okay, and that she would be taken care of. There was proof in her presence, in the body that Hayley clung to.

Her skin crawled, her stomach rolled, and her breath came short and quick, her lungs burning as her heart slowed, excruciatingly, as it rolled haltingly to a stop. It terrified her far more than the arrival of the second woman, the anger swirling around her like a red cape in a violent wind. Hayley knew, somehow, that it was her fault. It was her default to assume paranoia and shoulder the blame for anyone’s anger.

She wanted to apologise for being such a mess. She was bleeding. She could smell her own blood. There was grime in her hair. What else had she done? What could she have done? She could not apologise while in such pain, not when… oh.

The broiling in her gut rose, past her gasping lungs, into her throat and over her tongue. Everything that she had consumed that night, and that day -- it all came rushing out, unneeded and no longer necessary. She’d rolled away from her saviour so as not to vomit all over the woman. The bile hit the ground, splashing. Whatever was going on above her head, Hayley tried to pay attention -- though she may have failed.

[River]

Oh, look who decided to show up.
Your little whore.
Is that the best you could do, Danika?
I wonder if she’ll see how much of a failure you are…

She had expected this. The second she had dialed her partner’s number, she had known this was going to be the reaction. Jasmine had never been logical. She never took the time to think things through. She acted from her heart, from the emotions that rolled like a tidal wave within her veins. Even now, as she stared at the scene – a scent that clearly spoke of pain, misery and death – she didn’t stop to think. Her hand automatically went for her blade, the small flash of silver catching the shadow’s attention. With a quiet sigh, she flicked her tongue across a sharpened fang as she slowly lifted her gaze to her child, the darkness dancing within her mismatched gaze. “Don’t.”

It was a single word, but it fell from her tongue with an authority that she didn’t feel. Somehow, she had managed to summon the strength to not stumble over the word. Inside, her mind was in chaos. There were too many lights, too many thoughts, too many emotions – and she hated every single one. What happened to her quiet life? Before, she had wished that she would be noticed. She had wanted to grab the arm of any stranger that passed her and shake them until they looked at her – and not through her. She had been invisible and she had hated it. Now, as she tried not to wither beneath the glare of her childe – or lose her hold on the woman in her arms – she realized she missed it. It had been simple.

Forcing the thought from her mind, she straightened her spine – and, keeping one arm wrapped around the girl – she turned her glare back to Jasmine. The pain was etched across her face, the hunger that she didn’t want to feel. Dropping her hand to her side, she hissed in a breath as she felt a sharp pain shoot through her system – and when she pulled away, her tanned skin was stained black for only a second before the ink that made up her blood disappeared into nothing. “W-we ne-need to g-g-get her home, Jasmine. She needs to he---“ This time, when she stopped speaking, it had nothing to do with the way her mind worked. Instead, she was stunned into silence when the woman jerked in her arms, the only warning she received before the floor was covered in her vomit.

There was no reaction in the artist’s face as she watched the wild-haired vixen release the last remains of her human life. Instead, she merely waited, one hand dropping to rest atop her skull. It didn’t occur to her that every move she made towards the woman might send her partner into a tailspin. It wouldn’t matter if it did. Her entire attention was captivated by the innocence that was no escaping the girl at her feet. She had saved her life. She had condemned her. She had ruined her. She had saved her. Yet, now, she hadn’t the slightest ******* clue in how to help her. For a moment, she thought to reach out, to call her sire, to find the answers in him – but she wouldn’t. Not yet. Maybe, just maybe, she could fix this. Maybe she could make him proud – without having to lean on him. For once, she wanted to try and do something right.

As if you ever could.
He hates you, you know.
They all do.
You're better off dead.


“Did you dr—drive?” It was such a simple question, and yet, it didn’t seem to fit the current situation. Reaching into her pocket, she found a handful of napkins – some torn, some intact – that she had stolen from the restaurant. Without thinking, she handed them to the quivering mess at her feet as her gaze finally found Jasmine, the confusion clearly written across her face.

[Jasmine]

Jasmine rolled her eyes, biting her tongue until it bled. She had a smart mouth and a flip tongue, and she always had. It had gotten her into more trouble than she ever cared to recount, gotten her *** kicked more times than she cared to admit, and it had always served her very little with River. The Shadow she had fallen for had a fire in her, locked deep inside of her, behind a wall of shadow and doubt. It was hidden, but it was there. It peeked through the cracks in her façade when she painted. There was a rage in her, a passion, a life that Jasmine believed could burn away the melancholy that the woman had shrouded herself in, if she ever dared to let it. It had become her sole goal in life, to unleash the spirit in the woman.

She gave a nod at the question, slowly plying her teeth from the bleeding flesh of her tongue as she swallowed back the bitter taste of her own blood. “Yeah, my car is around the corner.” Her voice was sharper than she’d intended. Her eyes drifted between the two huddled forms and she fought the urge to fish the gun from her bag and bury the muzzle in the strange woman’s mouth and pull the trigger. The way River held her, the way it all just… looked. It was enough to light her own fire, to bring a life to a burning jealousy that threatened to consume her in a fiery outburst. She could almost feel her blood boiling as she let the fist she didn’t know she’d clenched slowly open, feeling the bite of her nails in her flesh when the feeling finally came back to the hand. She shrugged a shoulder at her sire, at the woman she’d fallen so completely for, and lifted her hand to push her dark hair over her shoulder. The honey colored dye had finally been driven out by her natural hair, leaving her with a darker, more serious appearance than when they had met.

A lot had changed in a year.

A lot.

Before she’d met River, she’d been as close to penniless as she’d ever hoped to be. A stripper with nothing to lose, divvying up her tips to her boss most nights, and the rest to the slum lord that kept her under her thumb. Now, she was sitting on millions. She was classy as ****, and wasn’t afraid to put a bullet in anyone that tried to say otherwise. She’d bought herself out of jail so many times now, she didn’t even bother showing up for a trial anymore. She just handed her lawyer a stack of bills and told him to make it go away. Worked like a charm in this town.

She took a slow breath, letting the sting of her ripped flesh remind her that she had better keep her cool, as River had demanded in that single worded response, the bite of air across exposed nerve helping to cool her blood just a tad, enough to keep from lashing out as she hefted her bags over her shoulder. “Do you need help with the-” she began, as she bit into her tongue to stop herself from lashing the dying woman with a small dose of the insults she had been flinging at her in her mind. Instead, she took another breath, a mental step back, and nodded to herself before she started over. “Do you need help to the car? She looks a little heavy, and you look a little worse for wear, doll. No offense.”

It wasn’t a lie. Whatever had gone down before Jasmine had been summoned had put River in a bad spot. She looked like she’d barely be able to stand on her own, if she were anyone else. But Jasmine had faith in the woman. She believed that, if it could be done, River could do it.

“Let’s get you out of this filthy alley.”

[Haylee Rae (DELETED 9724)]

The voices overhead were muffled, and Haylee was preoccupied trying to curl away from her own vomit. Her hair was still loose, the strands dragging through the bile. Stars danced at the edges of her vision and she clawed weakly at her chest. It ached. It felt empty. Something was missing. Life was missing. She was dead but she was still living, still trying to pull lungfuls of air into a chest that didn’t want them. Her body flushed hot and cold, waves of it, until finally it was just cold. Numb.

And then the voices weren’t so muffled. They were loud. Louder than voices had a right to be, vocals digging deep into Haylee’s ear canals. They were harsh, even if that wasn’t the intention. And paranoia took hold. Haylee, sick and hurting, her body feeling like it was no longer her own, felt like a burden. She’d always been that way. Even when she’d been sick she’d not moaned or clamoured for attention or help; she’d take the drugs, she’d go to work, she’d soldier through, and she’d always nod and smile if asked if she was okay.

She heard the words. She looks heavy. You look worse for wear. Do you need help?

Yes, Haylee though. Yes, I need help. But the question wasn’t directed at her. None of them were. The newcomer knew the woman who had saved her life, and Haylee knew neither of them. She was a stranger, and she was the reason they were here. If she hadn’t gone out, if she hadn’t had hope that maybe there’d be something more, that she might be loved, eventually…

Her palms dragged along the grit and grime, stones digging into the soft flesh. She pushed, slipping away from the woman who’d saved her. Her knees similarly suffered the same kind of abuse, rough stones tearing at the fabric of her skirt, which was now ruined. She was not generally prone to caring about clothing, but it was one of her better skirts. And now it was unsalvageable.

The sharp heel of her shoe wobbled as she tried to stand, but she held herself steady, keeping herself from falling. Eventually she was on her feet, swaying, wanting to reach out and hold on to something for balance. Instead, she held on to herself, wrapping her arms around her own shoulders. Her body was wracked by tremors.

”I—I’m sorry. I…” don’t want to be a bother, she wanted to say. The words were on the tip of her tongue. She could go her own way, she could go home, have a shower. Crawl into bed. It would be okay. But she was still too focused on the lack of a heartbeat in her chest. ”—what happened to me…?” she asked, her blue eyes wide, her voice trembling.

[River]

You have deceived her.
You have only just begun, and you have already destroyed her.
You destroyed them both…

There was a smile within her hollow voice, one that told the story of the vengeance she sought. Each word was carefully chosen to weave a tale as old as time, each whisper growing stronger, until she swore she could feel the vibrations of her voice against her skin. Tightening her jaw, she raked her fingers through her hair before digging her nails into her scalp. She was just an empty shell, and with each laugh, each harsh whisper in the dark, she withered away into nothing. The woman that flickered in and out of her line of vision, with her hair as bright as the sun, and eyes as blue as the sky, would not rest until she had what she wanted – and she couldn’t give in. She couldn’t allow Addison to sink her claws into what remained of her soul, nor could she continue to let the decaying beauty claim her heart.

The reason was standing before her, eyes glittering with jealousy and barely suppressed rage. It was at her feet, with skin as pale as the moon and hair as wild as a storm. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to happen this way. She never wanted to be in charge of another life, let alone two, but the choice had been made for her. One had been a mistake, the other an act of mercy. Now, both were in her care, and she was drowning. She was drowning, and they were both looking to her for answers. If her heart could beat, it would be racing. Slowly easing her fingers from her hair, she let her hands drop to her sides as the wild haired beauty began to stand on her own two feet. In that one movement, in the way her body swayed but she refused to collapse, she showed her strength.

“I’ve got her,” she whispered, though she never reached for her. She let her stand on her own two feet as she retreated back into the comfort of her hoodie. Her hands disappeared within the pockets, her hood moved to hide her face from view. The subtle insult earned a simple twitch of her brow before her mismatched gaze found her newest childe once more, fingers twisting the worn and frayed fabric of her jacket pocket into submission. “You died.” It was a simple answer, but she knew the woman was looking for so much more. She wanted to know the how, the why, and the when. She would want to know what she had become, what she was going to become, and the answers refused to roll from her tongue. The moment she spoke, would she run?

Here you are, trying to find a way to save what you have broken.
Once again, Danika, I get to watch you fall to your knees…
… and I love it.

“Y-You were dr-drugged a-and a-attacked by v-vampires. I ki-killed them, and s-s-saved you. You are one of us.” With each word she spoke, the stutter became more pronounced, and she hissed out a curse in her native tongue before her eyes found her partner’s. The story was delivered, in the best way that she could, and now… now she had to depend on Jasmine to swallow her jealousy and push away her pride long enough to help her deliver the news.

She was dead, but she was alive.
She was immortal.

She is a monster just like you.

[Jasmine]

Seeing the look in River’s eyes, the way she all but scolded her with but a glance, brought a ghost of a twitch to the Latin Allurist’s face, before her gaze flicked from the woman of her deepest thoughts, her true treasure, her one real desire, and to the… thing that she had made. She watched as Haylee made her way to wobbly legs, reminding her of a newborn fawn just making its first steps on spindly limbs that threatened to twitch just the wrong way and snap beneath her weight. “******* pathetic…” she murmured beneath her breath, cooling her temper and reminding herself that, not only did River’s glance tell her all that she needed to know about how the woman felt about her hauling off and landing a solid right hook to the chick’s jaw, like she wanted, but told her that she expected better of her.

It was hard. It was harder than she would have ever imagined, to unclench that fist and let her hand fall limply to her side, her fingers working their way into her bag, allowing her fingertips to brush along the precious worry stone she kept there, the thing nearly worn through at this point as her thumb passed over the well-worn divot in its surface. She had promised River that she would be better. She had given her word that she would control herself, that she would be a better person, a better everything, for her. She just didn’t think that it was going to be this hard. That it was going to be this… impossible.

She shared blood with this thing, now. River had given this weak little flower the same gift that she had given Jasmine. It was that same night all over again, she was being second again. Her fist clenched around the stone in her bag and she heard it crack, the smooth piece of worn marble crushed to dust. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and inhaled through her nose. She wouldn’t make a fool of herself. She wouldn’t break the *****’s nose, or worse, her scrawny neck. She exhaled, slowly, and opened her eyes, giving the both of them the best smile that she could manage.

At least, from the look of things, things hadn’t been as… intimate as she had first feared, seeing her River kneeling in the alley, with a woman lying across her lap. She still felt that flare of heat washing through her, though it was finding its way out of her brain, her mind less a boil and more a low simmer. She nodded to the woman still on her knees, to the woman that had stolen her heart as easily as she had stolen the cash in her wallet. She moved with purpose, her gait fluid, legs moving with a languid grace as she stepped past the woman fighting to keep her feet as she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist. “Yes, yes. Lucky us.” She flicked her gaze sideways, before gesturing with a tip of her head to the stranger that was now closer to her than many of her friends had ever been, gaze moving back to River with an arched brow, the expression on her face was clear.

This was what she had been doing with her evening?

She gave a gentle smile and let her slender arm reach down for the woman on her knees as she kept her eyes locked with hers. “River, here, is a vampire herself, aren’t you dear?” She nodded for the woman, and let her gaze move to the pale figure of the woman shaking like a leaf in the wind. She sighed, inwardly, and placed a hand on her shoulder to help hold her steady. “She chose you, for whatever reason she saw fit, to share her gift with. She has made you like herself, in her image, just as she has me.” She offered the first genuine smile she’d had to offer to the newcomer, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “She finished you, that you might live forever. Get used to the idea of being hungry, though.” She gave a twist of her lips and moved to reach for River’s hand to help her to her feet.

[Haylee Rae (DELETED 9724)]

Haylee had no idea how to interpret any of it, whether she was welcome or not, or whether she was just a hindrance. Her eyes burned not for any other reason but that she was overwhelmed and trying not to cry. She didn’t trust herself to speak, knowing the words would be mangled as the sobs tried to break free.

It was a mercy, really, that she couldn’t fully remember how she’d got there. Drugged and attacked, apparently, and she would be dead were it not for the woman who’d stuttered the story Haylee had asked for. She should be thankful, and she was thankful, except that the woman who saved her now seemed to want nothing to do with her. The other was here to… what? Reluctantly take Haylee off River’s hands? River, the one had called the other. River and Jasmine.

The squeeze of her shoulder should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. It was a touch from someone who appeared none too happy about Haylee’s existence; the girl was cold, and slowly, as her surroundings came clear, she began to feel… wrong. Or, perhaps wrong wasn’t the right word, but she sure didn’t feel normal. Haylee was a good girl who’d never passed out drunk, who’d never taken a drag of a cigarette, and who had never, ever done drugs. She could not compare this feeling with being high as she had never been high before. Instead, it was like experiencing her first trip and it was absolutely ******* terrifying.

The breeze was too loud, distant sirens like a banshee’s wail. The light, though it was outside, was too bright. At least her lungs didn’t scream when she refused to breathe, due to the overpowering stench of rat droppings and human piss. And there, when she swallowed, she felt it. Beyond the burning of her caged sobs there was a different sensation, one that was far more sinister. Hunger. Vampires had been mentioned; vampires had tried to kill her. River was a vampire. Haylee, now, was a vampire. She wanted to gag and throw up all over again as she realised what it was she was hungry for, but there was nothing left in her stomach to let go of.

”I’m sorry for uhm…” she closed her eyes tight, shook her head—as much to assure herself than anyone else that it was not her fault that she was attacked. It was not her fault that she’d been a victim, that she had been violated. Another violent shudder wracked her limbs as she tried to imagine it, then pushed the imagined scene from her mind. She had been violated! She sucked a deep breath in through her nose and her face crumbled. The stench!

”Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet as a mouse’s squeak. ”You can take me h-home. I don’t want to be a bother. Or I can… I can walk,” she said as she took her first steps toward the exit. Where was her bag? Her phone? Money? Could she afford a cab? How filthy was she? Would they let her in a cab?

Clearly, the implications had not yet set in. The revelation, that she had become an immortal vampire, had not yet hit home. Panic was, no doubt, just around the corner.