Jesse could only stare. And blink. He narrowed his eyes somewhat. honesty was the name of the game now. He just smiled.
"So was I. I succeeded, but I came back to tell the tale," he said, grinning now, his teeth gleaming. Sharp canines were on show, having grown excited at the prospect of a possible meal only second prior. His hunger was a constant thing, an insatiable beast that could not be tamed, no matter how hard he tried. The story shifted the cogs in his mind, however. He released the girl's arm and gestured that she should put her coat back on.
"And if you had the opporunity to come back, should you die, would you take it? Would you live a life constantly cold, but not feeling it? Could you drink only blood to survive, knowing that in return you would be superior to most who tried to take advantage of you? Could you live with the fact that you would always have the face of a sixteen year old...?" he asked. These were only the preliminary questions.
But she had uttered the word rape and Jesse had again been reminded of Kaelyn; he imagined Kaelyn alone on the streets. He wondered where she was now, what she was doing. And he thought: who could possibly leave a sixteen year old out here alone after she'd just admitted to the dangers she faced?
She put her jacket back on and still traced the cuts on her wrist. She was ashamed but, thought about what he had said. She wanted so bad to cut herself right now and get over with her misery and make herself hurt but, it would make her feel better it always had. She got on her knees to get closer to the fire. She didn't know how to reply exactly. How was she supposed to reply to this? She felt the knife in her boot stab her foot. She winced and took the knife out of her boot. It had blood all over it. "God Dang it." She muttered and sighed. That had hurt. Her hand shook and she put the knife down next to her in the snow. She tried to make the pain go away. She begged to pain to go away at the moment.
Jesse watched as the girl got closer to the fire. He watched as she pulled the knife from her boot; as the scent of warm, fresh blood hit the air. He got no answer. His hands were back in his pockets, and he made no move to get any closer.
"The offer isn't valid forever. You keep cutting yourself and I won't be able to help myself. If you're interested, give me some indication. If not, I'm going to walk away," he said. Once upon a time he'd sired on a whim. he hadn't asked the questions. He'd forced people into a life he assumed they would like, but most did not. This was still a whim, but he was still going to ask the questions. He was going to be sure, otherwise it would not happen at all.
She put her hand over the blood on her foot. "This time I didn't mean to stab myself. Frankly it hurts like hell." She said quietly. She had to think for a minute. Too much to take in. "Maybe that life would be different. Maybe I would have something to look forward to." She closed her eyes as she spoke. "Maybe..."
"That's a lot of maybe. There's not room for maybe. If I do what I'm offering, this is the least of your hurts. You're going to hurt like hell for about a week. You're going to feel like you're dying, over and over again, as each of your organs shut down," he said. A few cuts were nothing compared to what she would have to go through in order to become a creature of the night. Jesse had once thought that his difficulties with sirings -- the week long torture, nightly feeding them his blood to keep them afloat -- was a curse. But now he knew it was a blessing. It was a test. It was a hazing process. If they can't survive the turn, then they were never fit for the life of a vampire.
Now, he crouched down. he reached out, fingers slipping past hers to touch at the skin of her ankle, to slide through the hot mess of blood. Muscles jumped in his jaw as he told himself to resist; instead he focused. He was trying to heal the wound, but it didn't work. It failed. He'd just discovered a limit to his power. He could heal, but only those of the 'undead' variety.
"I can't help you as you are. But I can give you a day to think about it. If you decide you want what I have to offer, you can meet me back here tomorrow night," he said. And that was being generous.
She winced at the pain but, nodded. She had to think of it though she thought she was sure of her answer. She would wait and make sure it would be the right answer to go by. She slid her hand out and sighed at the blood. She hated blood sometimes how much pain it could cause. It sometimes just scared her right away. She bit her lip and tried to contain the pain. She didn't want to get up so she didn't. She probably wouldn't be able to walk properly for a while. She rummaged through her satchel trying to find wrapping but, failed. She sighed. No wrapping. As usual. She must have used it all.
He could have healed her, had the powers worked that way, but they didn't. He was a giver of tough love. He did not coddle. The girl had nodded, and he did not see any reason to stick around. With the blood still coating his fingers he pushed himself to his feet and without even a goodbye, walked away.
He walked back into the darkness, back into the city, back to the streets he knew so well. This time, the next person who caught his eye would not distract him. They would become his meal. They would breathe their last breath. H would make a mess of them before cleaning up the remains. He would go home, he would tell his wife about his night. And regardless of what was said or not said, he would come back the next night, at the same time. He would set the fire that had long gone out -- he would create a veritable bonfire, raging and crackling in the crisp, cold night. And he would wait.
Raven watched him disappear and sat there in the snow. She moved over to a tree and leaned on it sitting down. She knew her answer. She would do it though she wondered if it would be the correct thing to do. So much had happened in one night it was too confusing for her to think about at the moment. She was tired but, afraid to fall asleep. Though she ended up falling asleep anyway.
There was a good chance she wouldn't even show up.
And as he waited, Jesse realised he hadn't asked the girl her name. He decided it would be the first question he asked, depending on whether she returned, and what her answer would be. She didn't know his name. He could leave again, and she would be none the wiser. Her knowledge of his existence would do him no harm. When had his heart grown so soft? His teeth ground together as he circled the fire, boots scuffing the snow, mixing it in with the dirt and muck. Nothing white stays white forever. Nothing innocent stays innocent forever.
There were other questions he would have to ask, too. And yet, he didn't dwell on them. It was a moot point if she didn't come back. He wondered whether that cut was more severe than he had given it credit for. He imagined her in some hospital somewhere, fever high and on death's door. Eventually he sat down in front of the fire, randomly tossing twigs and sticks into the inferno.
She woke up in pain and realized she was supposed to meet him at the fire. She sighed and tried to get up only to fall back down. "God Dang it." She said a little loudly. She hated when this happened. She had to at least try. She grabbed the rag out of her satchel and wiped the blood off her foot she tore her jacket and wrapped the torn piece around her foot. Maybe that would do the trick. Hopefully. She got up and steadied herself on the tree for a moment. She walked around back and forth for a minute or two and finally found her balance without limping too much. Her limp was barely noticeable. She walked to the fire and saw him waiting.
