Path of the Vampire forum

<Canaan>:*flick*. *flick*. Canaan cupped his hands around the end of the last cigarette he had in his possession. The lighter was running out too. It seemed that everything in his life as of late was coming to its end. Really it was. Nearly eight hundred miles in his rearview mirror was the life he left behind. Conspiracy to Commit 1st Degree Murder, Accessory to 1st Degree Murder, Extortion, Making False Statements, just to name a few things in that mirror. Hell while we are at it he was sure there were a few parking tickets in there too. The largest sum of what he left behind was the $20 million in net worth. However with all of the charges brought down against him, his accounts were frozen and all of it now belonged to Uncle Sam. One could say that he chose a good time to leave Chicago.

Now he stood in Harper Rock, leaned up against all he had left, the 2015 Mercedes S-Class Maybach. Not that it mattered. He was going to ditch it in this parking lot and never look back. He recited it over and over in his head. *you are now Canaan Requiem….Hello…Canaan Requiem…pleasure to meet you….oh….My name is Canaan.* The adjustment to this new life was quite the task but Canaan was never one to back down from a challenge. He was a survivor now. This was a position that he felt uneasy with. No. He ******* hated it. He was a predator, a political shark, and a cunning business man. All the things his deceased father had taught him to be. Now he was nothing. He knew no one, had no ties to this new city, and had to start from the bottom.

Well perhaps not the bottom. He still looked like he was worth 20 million. He continued to puff on the last cigarette he swore to himself he would ever have, nasty habit it was. He hated that he had fallen into it in his younger days and so did his family. He could hear his father now “Charles that stick is a crutch. Others who see you smoking it will see you as weak. Put it out!” the truth was that every time he heard his father saying that he knew who the others his father referred to were. His father. Yes it seemed no matter what Canaan achieved it was not good enough for his father.

As he lingered on in thought the cigarette continued to burn. His eyes peered into the distance, looking around at the city’s lit up sky. “****!” he quipped as the cherry of what remained burned his finger. He tossed the butt onto the ground and would take his perfectly shined Armani’s sole and stamp it out. He leaned forward and pushed himself off of the car. He would open the passenger door and pull out what he needed off of the front seat. In a manila envelope were all of his forged documents declaring him a naturally born citizen of Canada. He had a passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, and Canadian citizenship card. Jessie had done his research well…that and he was good at hacking into government databases and made sure that if any were checked, they would clear. Sometimes it was good to have friends in low places, another thing that his father never understood.

He would straighten back up as he placed a few of the documents into his wallet and tucked it into his suit jacket. The others he creased and folded neatly into the other side. He would reach into his left pocket and grab his keys pulling a few from the ring; like his house and office keys and flung them hard into the grass a distance away. He leaned into the car one more time to open the glove compartment and make sure there would be nothing to identify him left in there and pulled out a pair of scissors to cut up any remnants of his former identity in his wallet. He held firmly onto these shards and tossed the scissors back into the glove compartment and then layed the key on the passenger seat for any passerby to see. He made sure all of the doors would be unlocked and shut the door. Some unscrupulous person would probably soon have a nice shiny new Maybach worth nearly a quarter of a million dollars in their possession.

As he peered around the parking lot he saw two trash bins. One he would walk to and put part of the shredded credit and bank cards in. then walked to the other and tossed the rest in. he would straighten his posture and button his suit jacket. He brushed his sleeves to make sure he was prim and proper and finally smirked his trademark smirk. “Hello there…My name is Canaan…I’m New to town… perhaps you could help me…” he nodded his head as he spoke to no one, for there was not a soul around. He then started to walk down the street, hoping to find something civilized to try his new life out on.

<Abelle>:Well she went ahead and did it again. That Range Rover she had been renting, finally grew on her and stole all her cash. Justification? It was winter for the most part,plain and simple. She was thinking ahead. Belle was satisfied for the moment, a brief moment perhaps but at least there was a smile shadowed across her face. Today was one of those few days, where all she had to do was errands. The businesses were taking care of themselves for a couple days. She finally had a great staff, trustworthy as well. Deagan at the newspaper, with the occasional Adley dropping in. Her brother over at the gun shop doing security, and then her last spin on culture. Studio Broussard, the renovating yoga studio project, which was the reason why she was well on her way to getting ready for the evening.

The newspaper, maybe about a week or so ago, had given them an advertisement to run, in regards to an art auction. It didn't peek her interest then, but now she wondered what they might have to brighten up the yoga studio. None of this really was her thing. Art auctions vs. hunting? Of course it would be the later, but business didn't always call for working from a laptop and taking phone calls. Plus deep down, she was loving the opportunity to break the work cycle tonight. She promised herself over and over. “I will be good tonight...watch my temper...and…” she laughed aloud as she flipped through her garments in her closet. “I promise not to kill too many,” so what she talked to herself, it sure saved someone's ears from the sanity that seemed to slip from her more and more daily.

Belle was also no real pro on fashion as well, so she settled on a pair of black leather looking tights, and a long sweater, that cinched her waist with an artsy looking clothe belt. It fell a little off of her shoulder, but that was how the woman at the store said it should. As long as it didn't give her issues, she wouldn't mind something a little dressy for the night. It was an art auction after all. She wasn't a creature of makeup, she had flawless skin and a very healthy complexion. It was no bragging, she actually held the power of healthy complexion. It was important that while working with humans as often as she did, that she didn't look like some freak show, with pale skin and sunken in eyes.

She felt a rumbling in her stomach, just as she was putting her boots on, it made her roll her eyes. If she ate human food the way she always felt hungry for blood, she would be fatter than a house by now. She was fed for the day, there was just this constant insatiable hunger that lingered in her bones all day. It made her hands shake a little as she laced them up. Just a couple hours….she hummed to herself and couldn’t hurry any faster to get out the front doors.

The auction was being held at the civic center, she wasn't sure how many people would be there, she had never attended one. The building wasn't far from the towers, so she decided to take a little evening stroll. The city was dead, once it got so cold out, everyone was into drinking hot cocoa and hot apple ciders beside the fire. Cozy little families, she stared into the front window of each house she walked by on the side streets. She never had that, and it wasn't something she missed obviously, but it was something she could have longed for if she knew about it back then. Belle looked back down that especially pretty sidestreet, before she opened up into the main roads. Before she knew it she was coming up the front steps of the brand new center they opened maybe just a few months ago. She remembered, she had heard an old school used to be there but they tore it down, no longer needing it. This was place was gorgeous. Most all white exterior, the modern shaped windows; and the inside looked just as sparkly and inviting as the outside. People began to pile in and so did Belle, like always slipping right in with the humans, her soft smile always hiding the fangs that refused to not give her grief.

“Welcome to the first annual civic center art auction event,” a rather squeaky toned female stood up on a stage quite a way ahead. “If everyone could please take and register a number, the auction will begin in promptly half an hour. Thank you and have a wonderful evening!” she squealed now it seemed this time. Belle growled softly under her breath at her disdain. The girl would make a good snack….naughty Belle and her thoughts. Promises were always meant to be broken however.

<Canaan>: Canaan continued to walk for quite some time. His eyes flicked from building to building as he took in this new city. His thoughts lingered back to Chicago and then to this town, wondering all the while if he would ever escape his troubled past. After all, this was no longer the 1950’s and police were like bloodhounds once they got a scent. With a promising politician dead, he doubted the search would stop anytime soon.

As his mind lingered on these thoughts, he could feel his heart start to race and a slight tinge of panic come over him as he flicked his gaze ahead and saw a policeman heading his way. The blood rushed to his face, he could feel it warming up like a teenager’s did when they got caught in the closet by their parents for the first time. He took a deep breath in and as the officer came close to him, Canaan just simply nodded his head as if nothing were suspect. As he passed Canaan exhaled hard as if he had just been punched in the gut by Floyd Mayweather. He didn’t look back, that would be suspicious.

He continued on his way and allowed the sights of this new city take his mind off of it. As he turned a corner he saw a rather large line outside of a building which peaked his curiosity. Everyone seemed to be dressed elegantly as they moved along in the line like they were at an amusement park waiting to get on the newest ride. Canaan would look to the other side of the street and cross to get a better look at the place.

As he came to a spot directly across from the building he would look to the building. It looked new. It looked quite grand. As his eyes flicked to a sign he could feel a small creasing turning upward at the corner of his lips. *First Annual Civic Center Art Auction* By this time he had the biggest smirk smeared across his face. He would straighten his posture once more and straighten his jacket and tie before reaching into his pockets and grabbing a pair of black wool gloves and putting them on his hands. He then looked both ways before crossing the street (safety first!) and joined the line to go into the building.

As he approached the front of the line he got a better look at the inside. His eyes glanced up to the chandeliers and then to the front where he suspected the squeaky voice was coming from “Welcome to the first annual civic center art auction event! If everyone could please take and register a number, the auction will begin in promptly half an hour. Thank you and have a wonderful evening!”

Canaan would go to the registration table. Not that he had a dime to his name, but he looked like he did, and it would look strange if he didn’t have a registration number. He would lean into the table, grabbing the furnished pen and jotting his name down before taking the card with the number 032 on it. He would then tuck the card and the pen inside of his jacket.

He turned around only to hear a gruff voice quip out “Excuse me sir!” ****. What now? He flicked his gaze to his left and the line of people coming in that were blocking his only perceived exit if he needed to make a run for it. “Sir!” Canaan exhaled a strong sigh and as he turned, put on his best smile as he looked at the man calling out to him. “Can I help you?” his somewhat slight English accent politely inquired to the man. The man reach out his hand palm up and gave him the come closer signal which made Canaan slightly freeze. “The pen.” He then pointed to Canaan’s chest. “You took the pen, it’s the only one I have up here for some reason” Canaan jumped as if surprised and immediately withdrew the pen from inside of his jacket. “sorry, bad habit I suppose” the man nodded “I do it all the time, it's no big deal” as Canaan handed over the pen the man smiled politely, though you could tell it was a strained smile, like this was his first gig and he didn’t want to **** it up. “Have a good night.” the man said before hurriedly handing the pen over to someone waiting. Canaan got a dirty look from that wench but he paid no mind to it.

He would then turn and move his mind to what he was there for. The culture. Perhaps this town had some. God he hoped so. He would move from painting to painting until he came to a rather curious one. This one made him stop and stare. He had seen this one before.

<Abelle>:Belle wasn’t a large girl, most would actually categorize her as very petite. This was something she wasn't fond of. For example in a crowd like tonight’s, it seemed like every tall ***** from Harper Rock and beyond had come just to put her to shame. And then they added those skyscraper heels, and the poor girl stood no chance. No. She was only 4’11, didn't look as though she could hurt a fly, delicate and dainty by physical nature. No one knew that within seconds she could probably annihilate half the crowd and scare shitless the other half. Fun facts about being immortal, scaring the hell out of people. Tonight was not the night however. She snorted and gave a woman to her left a dirty eye, whom in glance gave her one right back. See...and this is how it started. This is how it always started. Belle sighed and moved to the other side of the room to avoid all issues.
As she walked through, her eyes spotted a rather out of place looking gentleman. He wasn't odd to look at by far, matter of fact almost looked too good to be true. He held himself proper, she had to assume this was not a first time for him and he also behaved good socially. She couldn't help but wonder if she was calling the kettle black. Belle looked around nonchalantly as the two men broke apart and Mr.Mysterious was off to view a piece.

There were three things for sure, as she walked in a little closer to where he was. The scent of his cologne was nothing like what she had smelled before, meaning either it was very expensive and rare, or they didn't sell it around here; he also was no resident of Harper Rock. That was obvious. Just the way he dressed and carried himself, plus he didn't have that accent, that most canadians claimed they didn't have. She was also a pretty good judgement of character as well, and the closer she got she could feel an odd vibe coming from him.

After a few minutes she made her way to his side, pretending to barely even pay attention to him, the piece they both viewed, had her humming and umming a few times, as she took its art into consideration. This was nothing she wanted in her yoga studio. It was tacky in her opinion.

“You like this sort of work?” she pushed her hair behind her ear as she looked over at him with a forced smile. “I always found it to be a little hard on the eyes,” the woman's french accent was thick, though she was trying hard to dull it down as time went on living her, but the french canadian influence was heavy to someone who already spoke fluent french to begin with. Not everyone understood though.

<Canaan>:Canaan stood there for quite a bit his left arm wrapping around his chest as he placed his right elbow on it to prop up his arm as he pinched his chin and massaged with his right thumb and index finger. His eyes narrowed as he looked the piece over. This was a $250 thousand dollar painting if it was at the right auction. He felt a small tingle to his right and noted someone’s presence there but at the moment he paid them no mind. His eyes were working like a small scanner, going over every detail of the painting.

As the woman spoke, though he didn’t look at her, two gentlemen came up to look at the painting as well. At least that was what Canaan thought. One gentleman, rather pudgy and seemingly very sure of himself took his right hand and pushed up his glasses as the other, rather average built man looked at the painting. The pudgy one started to talk and low and behold claimed it was he who had painted this work. Canaan turned up his nose and finally without moving his arms let his wrist collapse from his chin and merely glanced at the woman.

Very short, petite and wouldn’t you know it, just judging by her face, absolutely gorgeous. Though he thought her attire lacked for the event, he would answer her kindly, deciding not to be the standoffish one this time. After all he was new in town and who knows who this woman might be. “It is not something that I would want in my home certainly. However most consider it to be a masterpiece….” He then elevated his pitch so that the two gentlemen beside him could hear. “If it were real and not so clearly a forgery.” Yeah he did it. Canaan was used to this sort of event and art was something that he could get behind. He was not entirely fond of the events as he was mostly forced to endure them when he was younger by his father, so he learned instead of just tossing the notion away. There were after all many powerful people in most cases at these sorts of events. Canaan was always looking to impress someone.

He glanced lightly over to the two men. The pudgy one was clearly upset. You could see, even through his flab that his jaw was clenched and looking down toward his hands his fist clenched and his knuckles were white. Uh oh, someone hit a nerve. He then answered the second part of her statement even though it was not entirely a question. “The only part that is hard on the eyes is seeing how little effort was put forth into faking it. The real deal is done by a man named Giuseppe Figueroa.” He pointed to a corner and looked at the woman “look how thin the paint is on the canvas. You can barely tell there are any strokes.” He shook his head “also the frame has no patina. Which means that it was either reframed, or this is hot off of the presses.” Canaan flicked his gaze back to the pudgy one, not noticing that the fraudster’s mark had walked away with Canaan’s words. He was pissed.

He walked up to Canaan and snapped his fingers to the side like someone who was calling a dog would. And wouldn’t you know three men came up behind Canaan. He didn’t get a good look at them he was staring down the man who was trying to take someone for quite a large sum.

Canaan couldn’t help himself “Figueroa didn’t wear glasses either…to be that detailed on a piece you have to have true vision…both artistically and physically” he waited for the man to make the next move. Assuredly the men behind Canaan were his goons that he had hired just in case something like this was to happen. First annual art auction. He had to think everyone here was idiots and it would be an easy take. Then Canaan showed up and ruined his day.

Instinctively as he was always the gentleman, Canaan moved in front of the small woman when he turned around to face the three men staring him down from behind. It was probably stupid given the circumstances but Canaan was arrogant. “Evening gentlemen, have you come to admire this fallacy as well?” his trademark smirk washed across his face. He was likely going to end up with the **** beat out of him by the end of the night from the looks of it, why not have a bit of fun while doing it.

<Abelle>: Belle was used to being overlooked in big crowds. There wasn't much to see when most were five foot four and above. She had heard even that height was considered short...which was still a mystery to her. What Belle did have in comparison with most, was the element of surprise. Sure she looked like an innocent, helpless fawn, but she was a beast in a doll's clothing. There was a verse in the bible growing up that said something to the effect of being deceived by a wolf in sheep's clothing. That would be her.

Listening to the gentleman beside her, she was more than happy to hear his review on the painting; and she was pleased to hear his disdain for it as well. She couldn’t help but laugh when he started picking out its faults. She loved someone who always knew what they were talking about. Educated and handsome, this guy would go far, maybe even see him doing something great on the front news of her newspaper...maybe. Maybe he’d turn out to be a wicked political criminal of sorts. She listened to him, but out of the corner of her looked him up and down, trying to judge what type of person he might be.

“We all know, no one likes a fake,” Belle leaned into him, but said it with a loud enough whisper, that these two men coming up, would clearly hear her as well. If all this man was saying was true, then he was right on the mark, but these men didn't seem to be pleased with him at all. Looking over her shoulder she accessed the situation. It wouldn't be much a problem for her, but oddly enough it looked as though it could become problemsome for the man beside her.

Normally she wouldn't give a **** about a human, especially one she had never met before. However most humans she had a tendency to see here and there often around the city. As stressed before...he was new. Harper Rock wasn't a horrible city to live in, why chase out any newcomers? Belle let the scene play out in front of her. There were clearly some hurt egos, starting to rear their ugly heads. “Crazy enough I completely believe you,” she heard some huffs of frustration coming from mister chubbs back there. Her senses were always heightened and if she wasn't as polite as she was, she would have told tubs to get a breath mint. Belle brought her fingers up to pinch her nose lightly, trying not to seem rude.

As the man walked off for a brief moment, she almost let out a maniacal laugh, but was interrupted by the snapping of fingers. Was this guy serious? She was envious that a few snaps of the finger, summoned over three brain dead looking thugs. The gentleman beside her looked as though he could hold his own if it came down to it, but these were pretty big men. Belle would take Queen to the three’s foreheads, she wasn't too much into melee fighting. She liked quick and to the point. But she did promise...damn promises. No killing humans. She mocked herself.

This guy may have been a little **** disturber, but he was right up her alley. Trouble. She lived off trouble and chaos wherever she could get her hands on it. Oh how he taunted them, getting that last word in. It amused her, she even smirked a little up at all the men, who in turn didn't seem to give a **** that a lady was in their midst. Belle narrowed her eyes at the one man, thinking she had seen him before. Her cheeks would have blushed if they could, when her knight and shining armour moved in front of her. Aww he just didn't know what she was capable of, still the sentiment was sweet and noble. True gentleman. She had seen how some men in the streets not giving a **** about the women they were hanging with...not even opening a door for them. Rude. Ignorant.

Belle smiled and slid her body around the handsome man’s body, and put on that force fake smile, she had down to a perfection when dealing with humans, especially dealing with business. The moment she stepped forward, they stopped. She looked up at her savior and nodded softly. “Merci,” she nodded.

“Daniel Coulden? Is that you ?” she smiled wide and realized where she had seen the man before. His eyes widened as though embarrassed. “You came to my newspaper...Harper Rock News? Remember...you gave me the information for the advertisement,” she pushed her way past one man and held out her hand to Daniel. He took her hand and kissed it cordially. It was clear he felt like an idiot, and it seemed because of that everyone else did too. She darted a look over at mister tubbs, and then back at Daniel.

“I’m so sorry Miss Broussard, we had no idea…” he stammered over his words and gave a dirty look up at the true gentlemen behind Belle now. “ You understand the feelings involved when dealing with art and culture.” She laughed and turned to the other men. “I remember you as well...Dr. Hargrave if i'm correct,” she nodded to him as well. Her charm and reputation were always lifesavers when in tight situations. She just hoped her new friend would understand. Still from the corner of her eye she could see fatty whispering something to the other two thugs that still lingered around. She suspected trouble regardless, but at least not here and now.

“We are truly sorry for the misunderstanding Abelle…” the doctor was ready to speak but Belle held up a hand to stop him.

“Miss Broussard, doctor...we barely know each other,” she shrugged and watched the confusion cloud over his face.

“How about i take you to dinner one night….then perhaps I may call you Abelle,” the man puffed his chest, hoping to get some sort of praise from his fellow men around. Belle stared at him for a moment, no emotion on her face, her eyes cold as ice.

“You wouldn't be interested in what I eat. Thank you but no thank you,” she nodded politely to him. “Right now my friend and I will be off...hopefully find a more original piece,” she laughed now and they laughed back just to be courteous.

Once they were out of ear reach, she looked up at him and raised a brow with a smile. “You have a knack for trouble it seems,” she winked and held out her hand. “My name is Abelle Broussard,”

<Canaan>: As Canaan heard the woman give thanks in French he perked a brow before remembering that he was in Canada. He was used to a few languages, none so elegant as French. As the woman spoke a name he looked in the direction that she spoke and watched the man’s face react with a slight tinge of embarrassment and horror all at the same time. Canaan was old fashioned but not so old fashioned that he would not let this woman’s obvious stature within the city stop him from getting beaten to a pulp. There was a time to shut your mouth. Canaan often times had trouble figuring out when that time was, but as the woman spoke to the others he figured that she had given him that time. It was up to him to take the advice.
He took it, even though it itched at his skin that a man would likely take someone for a large sum all due to the fact that they had little to no idea of what they were bidding on. He shook it off so as not to cause a scene more disturbing than what had already occurred. He listened closely to the banter between this woman and the doctor and couldn’t help but to laugh a bit on the inside at the man. Just because you have money and a title, does not mean that everyone is going to fall at your feet. Those that did were weak, and you were usually better off not having them around you in the first place. Generally when you tossed them to the side, they caused problems.
As she guided Canaan away from the obvious threat he sighed a little in relief. One perhaps he could take but three? He was not Jackie Chan. Canaan relied solely on intellect and manipulation most of the time. Yes he was good with a gun but to start a shootout at a charity event was just tacky.

He looked down at the woman leading him off in a different direction and would extend his right arm so that she could wrap hers in his as any gentleman would do. As she spoke he smirked ever so slightly and nodded. “So I am told…I could not stand idly by while a fraud tried to take someone for a quarter of a million dollars love” as she spoke her name he would smile and nod. This was the first time that he would be introducing himself with his new moniker “I am Canaan Requiem, a pleasure to meet you Ms. Broussard.”

He would allow her to move him down the line of paintings before he stopped at another. His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. Lot 148. Spring by Edouard Manet. By the looks of it, this was the original. It was. The articles of authenticity were sitting beside it. At the last auction that it sold at fetched $65 million dollars. Was there that much money in this city? If there was, well Canaan would be excited.

He would look to Abelle and point at the painting “now this is what I came here to see. This is a painting done by Edouard Manet. It sold at Christie’s in New York City for sixty five million dollars” Canaan secretly wanted to know how influential this woman was. Was she one of the rich and powerful in the city, or just another browser trying to fit in with the affluent and hoping to get a rich man to mooch off of?

<Abelle>:As they walked a few more people weren't shy and waved happily at her as well. Her name was getting out there finally, her publicist, before she killed him, was right. A little public appearances would be good for her and the businesses, whichever one she choose to promote. She held her head high, as she set her hand and arm in his gently. This wasnt something she was used to, and it made her a bit uncomfortable. Sort of feeling vulnerable and child like. And there was that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She lifted her nose to get a nonchalant smell of him, it made her eyes roll. The sweet mixture of blood and cologne. Perfect combination really.

They walked through the crowd, her mind becoming dizzy. Oh someone was getting bitten real soon, she could feel it. Shaking her head she tried to focus and pay attention when he lead them over to a painting that was much more pleasing to the eye than the last. Edouard Manet, must have been a great man to have painted something so lovely. Still when he said the price she laughed. She had gotten rich by not blowing ridiculous amounts of money on things she would get away with having cheaper.Whether it was temps at her businesses or new software for the computers. She choose the cheaper most effective way. Just took a bit of research.

“For sixty five million, I could buy a mansion, expand the newspaper, start three new businesses and upgrade my two other current ones,” she thought about it and looked up at him with a smile and shrug. “Throwing money around isn't something that appeals to me, because I have no one to prove anything to besides myself,” she explained as she truly believed so. “I am only looking for a picture for my upcoming yoga studio, “ she laughed and looked around and then back to him.

“I bet the goodwill, has something antique and exotic and only charges maybe twenty dollars,” she pulled away from his arm and eyed the little appetizers that were being passed about. One thing she couldn't do that was human like was eat food, that always had people questioning her. Most just assumed she watched her weight, and some thought something else was up. Didn't matter to her much, her purpose of coming to these things weren't for people to see how much she ate.

“So are you here to buy?” she looked him up and down, and could swear her mouth watered a little. It was no secret that everyone woman here had been staring at him, and in turn many of the men stared at her for whatever reasons they might have had. “Or are you here to pick up all the lovely ladies with your extensive knowledge of art?” she teased him a little, wanting to see if his smile matched his attitude. She studied people, more than she should. She could see lies in people's, insecurities, pain. Call it empathy, but this just helped her achieve what she wanted all the more.

“Oh and by the way, when you do leave,” she nodded toward the doors up front and then back to him. “Chubbs was really offended I’m afraid...his goons are well paid….I imagine they will cause you issues when you leave,” she rolled her eyes as though she didn't really care what happened to him. It was more of an FYI. “I say go out the back way,” she laughed under her breath. “ They seem so vicious,” she stepped away from him and took him in again. Damn. She really couldn't fault any of the women looking, and yet she was the one standing with him. What a rare opportunity. He could be a very yummy snack. She sighed and adjusted the sweater on her shoulder, that would only fall off again.

“If you're in my area...redwood,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out her three business cards. “Come visit me at any of them...the gun shop might be a good place...this city can get a little wild at times,” she laughed as she completely understated that. She lifted her eyes to meet his, her sultry blue’s mesmerizing and complex at the same time. Her beautiful orbs that once told a story, only showed signs of a dying soul these days.


<Canaan>: Canaan kept his arm in the same position as hers stayed wrapped around his. There was something strange about it. Normally there would be an elevation in warmth when a woman such as she was to take his arm but there was none. He looked down at her arm as she looked around the room and shrugged it off as the sweater she was wearing being well insulated. As she inhaled his scent she would get only the slightest hint of cologne, nothing too expensive, just a bit of Abercrombie Fierce. Canaan detested men who bathed in the stuff and thought they smelled good because of it, when really they smelled like they had just smeared **** over themselves and had to do something to cover it up.

When Canaan heard her speak of buying mansions and businesses he couldn’t help but to let a laugh escape his lips. He wasn’t making fun of her, it was actually the opposite. He agreed for the most part. “Indeed, the strange part to me however is that this does not look like that much of an affluential town if I might be pardoned if I speak from a place of ignorance. I cannot imagine anyone I have seen here being able to afford such a work.” He looked to her as she spoke of not proving anything to others and nodded. His gaze flicked to her eyes, his icy blue hues looking her over for more than a second for the first time. “Those who feel that they need to prove themselves to others generally are insecure and rarely have the actual talent to go through with what they are trying to prove others wrong about in the first place.” He sounded like his father. God he loathed that feeling.

Then she said it. Goodwill. Christ almighty it sent shivers up Canaan’s spine to even hear the name in a place like this where culture and history combined into one. Goodwill. He couldn’t hold back. “You are kidding me? Anyone can paint a picture and call it art. I have seen parents hang up their child’s stick figures on the refrigerator and call it such. True art however is the ability to transform a media into meaning. Not just for the artist and those close to him, but anyone who has the pleasure of looking upon it.” He shook his head “perhaps, perhaps not. Really it depends on what I see” a total and complete lie. But he was good at that. he had no intentions of purchasing anything, mostly because he had no money to speak of, and no home to hang it in. thinking about it, he probably should have kept the keys to the Maybach so that he would have a place to sleep tonight.

As the next sentence spilled out he looked around the room toward the women, some looking at him, staring even, others going on about their business. “I’m afraid most of these women couldn’t handle a man like me love” arrogant yes, but also mostly true. Canaan was not the easiest person to get along with behind closed doors, hell even in public he could be what Abelle had called him. Trouble.

He kept his gaze on her eyes though they wanted to linger elsewhere, and listened as she spoke of the men he had encountered earlier. He smirked “Yes. Out the back. Though I have not yet figured out which way that is as of yet.” As he sweater fell when she adjusted it, for the first time he made his first ungentlemanly gesture and flicked his gaze over her shoulder. The smooth skin shone there made him silently hum to himself. If he were to try and pick anyone up at this grandiose affair, it would be her. She might not be even close to his age but he was ninety percent sure that since she owned a business she was legal.

As she handed him the cards he would glance at them before tucking them in the left front breast pocket on the inside of his jacket. He was a bit caught off guard with as well they were speaking that it was to come to an abrupt end, or so it seemed that way. A pity really. He shook off the gun shop comment as he imagined that Chicago had to be a much worse place than this. He had had good luck there, so he doubted he would have all that much trouble here. Then again people knew him there, and not a single soul gave two fucks who he was here. His gaze moved back to her eyes and a smile swept over his face. “Of course…” he did take note that she owned a newspaper, which was a bit concerning to him. His face was likely plastered all over screens and papers in the US and he secretly wondered if it would eventually spread to this town. He hoped not. He really did not look good in orange.

<Abelle>:She nodded and listened to him, smiling brightly. When she was a newcomer, she supposed she had her doubts about the city as well. It wasn’t until Zodiac changed her life, making it actually have purpose, giving her a chance to feel free and think for herself. If at any point in time she lost her way it was her own doing. Canaan sure looked like a hopeful man, someone like him would probably do well in the world of the dark and ugly. He just had no idea.

“This city is different,” she started and began to usher him toward the back of the building, where she knew there would be a door. Still from the corner of her eye, she could see the men lurking around, with a few more added to their party. She paid no mind, not wanting to bring negative attention. “It doesn't look like much, but there are some very…” she hummed under her breath as she thought about the right way to put it. “Powerful people that live here...quiet but very influential,” she nodded with a smile. “Stick around you will find out soon enough I’m sure,”

Belle was started noticing a little something different about him, she couldn't place it right now but...there was something there. “The exit is right down here,” she walked ahead of him some. “I’ll leave as well..this place isn’t where I want to be right now, never really was,” she mock exhaled and shook her head. “Just another awkward social event….but I’m sure you know how that is,”

Once they reached the backdoor, Belle listened hard. She could hear a few men’s voices out there, nothing sounded intimidating; but because she couldnt see through walls, she had to assume the worst for the two of them leaving.

“Where is your car parked?” she looked back at Canaan and waved him on in a hurry. “Cant have these thugs holding us up all evening,” she whispered and cracked her knuckles gently, then stretched her neck. If she was going to have to fight...she would do it her way. Canaan could either go with her flow or chicken out, which she had a good idea he’d be going with the sooner of of the later.

<Canaan>: He smiled a bit inside when she decided that she was going WITH him rather than them parting ways. First day in the city and perhaps he would get lucky! He listened to her as they made their way toward the back. She had no idea what he knew about influential people and the way things went. He knew it was just that most of the time it was him on the other end of this deal. He had to say something, right now he felt like she thought he was some sort of rich playboy with no idea about the real world. He didn’t want to say what he did, but it slipped before he could stop the words from spewing forth out of his mouth “I’m lived in Chicago love….Corrupt cities were birthed out of Chicago’s loins.” He fucked up. Hopefully she wouldn’t check on him. Canaan Requiem never existed in Chicago. When she spoke of social events Canaan got the feeling that her being there was more out of a sense of duty to be seen than for the actual enjoyment of the affair, which he could relate to that sentiment.

As she asked for his car his heart skipped a beat. He had left it for someone to steal! But with how he was dressed, he had to have a car right? His only hope was to go toward what he had left and pray it was still there… or come up with an elaborate story as to why it wasn’t. “I left it in a parking lot a few blocks away” he would follow her lead in this since he only knew the directions of which he went in. hopefully he could find the parking lot with little trouble but even that he was unsure of. He did notice something off about her however. She was not afraid. More likely, judging by her demeanor, she was anticipatory about what might happen if they went out the door they were coming up to. Did she know something? Was this a trap? Canaan’s mind raced and couldn’t help but to feel uneasy at this woman’s side now.

<Abelle>: “Mmm yes ok Chicago,” she nodded and shrugged. “ Well Canaan this isn't Chicago,” she said tenderly with a smile back at him. “Welcome to Harper Rock,” she adjusted her gun holder around her waist, not putting it into clear sight. She was like quick draw mcgraw, when she needed it. The moment she would open the door, her hand would be full of Queen, and she would take care of the rest.

“Great, then we’ll have no problems getting to it quickly,” when she said it , it wasn't because she was going to have to run. No. When she said it, it was because she would have to run from police when she heard the sirens. A killing right outside of the new civic center. She would be wise to pay extra attention. God’s how her veins were jumping and her skin crawling with anticipation. She was feigning like a crackhead needing a fix. She might not be able to see their faces behind these doors, but she could smell their own eagerness...yes they were out for trouble and she imagined it was him they wanted.

Before she would go out there guns a blazing, she took the most logical route and opened the door slowly with a smile, with a look that almost said she didn't realize she used the wrong door.
“ Ah gentlemen...i am so sorry,” she placed a hand on her chest for a little extra flare, her accent strong to make it sound as sweet as possible. “My friend and I thought this would lead us to our cars,” she laughed again, bringing a hand over her mouth to stifle pure amusement. With the other hand she reached back and grabbed for Canaan’s hand.

“Ooh yah,” one of the bigger men pushed his way through the few and gave them both looks. Belle’s look in return was less than amused, raising her brow and rolling her eyes. “You were the one in there, talking out of your *** about the painting,” he shouted at Canaan. “Costed my cousin over a million dollars,” they could both see the little vein popping out on his forehead. Belle was convinced it would pop sometime very soon.

“How bout you find your car lady, men over here need to have a talk,” Belle looked back at Canaan with a smile, then turned to them and laughed.

“So since I’m a “lady” I can't take part in “male” conversations?” she nearly lost track of what she was trying to do, being so to the point like she planned on being. “Women can do anything they want…” she narrowed her eyes as she was clearly pissed with him. Letting go of Canaan’s hand, she put her hands on her hips and lowered her head, trying to compose herself. She wished she could let out deep breath...she needed something to help calm her down. And that count to ten **** as suggested some time ago, had zero effect on her. “I’m trying,” she whispered under her breath.

Another man to the right laughed at her and nodded to Canaan. “Get your drunk woman, before you both end up dumped on the wrong side of town,” now the four of them laughed. That was all Belle had to hear, that was the last straw. When Belle closed her eyes briefly, she swore that was all she seen was a puddle of blood. Looking back at Canaan, she was sure he would do or say something in her defense, but right now her fingers were playing trigger happy. She couldn't help it...just couldnt. reaching around her waist she pulled out her Queen and with such a quickness, popped one off in the guys kneecap to the left of them.

“Now shut up with your filthy little mouths!!” she yelled at them all, her head high and her ego on full blast. Pure pissed. Belle adjusted her gun and walked right up to the man who had put her down moments ago. “Apologize to me,” she stared him in the face, her eyes bearing holes deep into his.

<Canaan>:Canaan smirked at her comment. Either she didn’t know how bad Chicago was or he didn’t know how bad Harper Rock was. If it truly was so bad, how come it never made the news? Maybe it was a borders thing? Who really knew. Most Americans were not interested in real news anyway. They would much rather watch a bunch of fake, over-paid and under-talented supposed housewives fight like children on the playground on reality tv.

He never noted her moving her hand, or thought of anything like a gun, call him naïve but she was just a little thing, and he could hardly imagine her toting a gun around. Her tone felt like she knew something that he didn’t when she spoke of getting to the car quickly. Then she opened the door. Great! His first night in town and the local riff-raff wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp…or worse.

He liked her style, playing innocent and trying to get out of the situation, but to be honest he really didn’t feel like she was trying to get out of anything. He felt her grab his hand and as she did he heard one of the men speak up. a million dollars? Oh for fucks sake. Canaan, much like he did in the civic center, spewed out his arrogance all over the place. You see, arrogance to Canaan was an admirable quality as long as you actually knew what you were talking about, ignorant arrogance was well, just ignorance and then you deserved an *** beating. “A MILLION DOLLARS!?! That is preposterous! The REAL one only sold for a quarter of a million dollars! I was there when it sold!” now Canaan’s blood was boiling and all over a fake painting. To be truthful he didn’t care that much for art, he just knew about it, but when he knew about something he tended to be one of those guys who had to shove it down your throat until you actually listened to him. “Whoever told your uncle it was worth a million dollars lied to him, that guy probably sold it to your uncle for what the real painting is worth! What did he get it for a quarter of a million?”

The guy stopped, almost as if Canaan were right, and Canaan could see it. That fat **** inside really bought it for 250k. maybe that was why he was so pissed. Then the guy started again, talking to Abelle like she was some sort of floozy out at the club. Canaan’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the guy speaking to her as if he himself were about to strangle the life out of him. Canaan had particular pet peeves, one of which included talking to women like they should be in the kitchen making sammiches and grabbing men beer all day. “Seriously?” he shook his head “I would expect this from an American. Half are mindless zombies concerned with nothing more than where the nearest McDonald’s is. I had no idea that Canadians were so shallow too.”

Then….Abelle shot one of them. Well that escalated quickly. This one was a little spitfire. He liked that. at the moment he didn’t know whether to be absolutely terrified of what may or may not be a completely psychopathic woman who now thinks that Canaan is her boyfriend and is going to start leaving dead cats in the mail, or whether to be turned on by a strong independent woman. He chose the latter, yeah, he could get behind this. Though, he did take a step back… just in case.

<Abelle>: “You fuckin shot him you crazy *****!” she wasn't even sure by now which man was talking. She would be happy to just put bullets between each set of eyeballs that even dared to look at her. “Get an ambulance,” there was at least one sensible man of their crew. He was probably the one back their pissing his pants...he looked like a pussy. Belle looked him over and spit on the ground beside him.

“If any of you cowards even touch your cell’s I will blow your ******* heads off,” that wasn’t fully true however. She planned at this point to put holes in their heads regardless. That smell of blood and fear just set her skin on fire. Temper...it was always that Broussard temper. Most nights ended up something like this. She would try to go out and have a normal bite to eat or a small hunt, and would have to end up dodging the cover of her own newspaper. Belle rolled her eyes and groaned at what she did. “Fuckin humans,” she hissed beneath her breath, making sure no one heard.

The few of them froze up including Canaan, probably out of fear, if nothing else than pure concern for her. The gentleman that she had shot however, was reeling in pain, his groans and moans really starting to echo right through her. She imagined if she had a beating heart, it would pound right out of her chest at the moment. Her fingers twitched lightly against the gun, but she tried to control herself.

“He needs an ambulance...otherwise he’ll die,” oh how lovely another man of reason, who apparently lacked common sense however.

Belle looked back at Canaan, a very wild look in her eyes, and a tiny smirk on her face as though to say “Watch this”.

Belle lifted her gun, and with such grace and precision and almost in record timing, managed to sink a bullet into each man’s head. Good thing Queen was a silencer. Also a good thing these weren't extremely important men, she would feel pretty foolish if a few months down the line, she learned she needed them. Tipping her head to the side she sighed and shook her head. It was a real shame, but these guys seemed pretty awful, she was sure she would put at least someone’s mind at ease.

“Your car?” she gave Canaan a look as if to say ‘Duh...haven't you done this a hundred times?!’

If she had been sane, she would have either wasted Canaan with them or not have brought him to her killing party. She had only a few options now as she seen it….one would have been great if she had that nifty Allurist skill in enthralling a human, but she wasn't that advanced yet. Belle could still kill him...probably in a cool way, good way to end her night or ….she could turn him. Last time she did that, it didn't end well. She couldn't tell you where or how he was, she hadn't seen him in years.

“Canaan, your night just got wild,” she laughed and gestured for him to hurry.

<Canaan>: Canaan watched the scene unfold before him. While he was not opposed to violence when necessary, he tended to stay away from the scene and work from the shadows while someone else got their hands dirty. Here he was, on the run from the Feds in the US, hoping to live a quiet yet prosperous life in Harper Rock, and he was now in just as deep in this new city. Did trouble find him, or did he look for it, whichever way it was it was here and there was nothing he could do about it but react to the present circumstances.

The men turned rightly terrified with the now gun wielding wild woman in front of them, and Canaan watched as she ended each one of them, each with precision and very quickly. When she looked back at him, Canaan couldn’t help but to think that her panties were as wet as the cement after a summer downpour. She got off on this. Call him crazy, or an adrenaline junkie, but Canaan actually liked her more for it. As she mentioned the car he didn’t even hesitate. He started to bolt, grabbing her hand as he swiftly moved past her as if he were the hero in this escapade.

He didn’t say anything as she spoke about wild nights. There was no time for idle chit chat in his mind. He ran as fast as he could toward the direction he came from, recognizing a few landmarks that he had passed on his way to the civic center. After running three blocks he came to the parking lot and headed toward where he had left the car.

This city couldn’t be too bad. It sat there as he had left it. He would let go of her hand as they made their way to the car and moved to the drivers side. He opened the door and jumped in, grabbing the key fob from the passenger seat where he had left it and tossed it into the cup holder. he then placed his foot on the brake and pressed the button to the ignition.

<Abelle>:Perhaps she did all that she did for the thrill of it. For sure part of tonight’s events were fun and even arousing, and she could see the excitement in Canaan’s eyes as he ran to the car, wanting and needing to be the getaway driver. She could really use someone like this on her team. Always ready and willing. There was something special about this one...he wasn't like Adley or anyone else she had met. Adley had left a special mark in her life, much like her brother Andre did. She had a true love and bond with them. Canaan was her fiery side she could tell, he would be her ride or die if she allowed him to live after tonight. Poor guy had no idea how fortunate he was, though the odds probably seemed much against him at the moment.

Belle giggled and ran with him, it was like a scene from a movie. The bad guys did their crime, ran off to the hot sports car and sped away, never to be found. She truly hoped all that would be true. So far so good with the crime, running and hot car. Being found however was another thing. There wasn’t a time in the day or night that went by, that she didn't have to avoid the police, for one thing or anything. When it was her time to play in the streets, she did as she liked with little regard for anyone. Canaan was taking it like a champ however, the way he jumped into the driver’s seat, like he had done this a million times. It actually made Belle smile, she felt proud in some weird fucked up sort of way. She liked having someone to be “bad” with.

“Are you scared?” she asked in her sweet french voice, a little devilish smirk on her face. If he were truly anything special indeed, he would know what to say. If he wasn’t scared, then she knew she would have a good catch. There wasn’t many she allowed into her life anymore. She could count the number of people on one hand, that she was fond of and talked to often. Doc and Mortll and Adley. There was no need for tons of “friends”.

Canaan was handsome, educated so it seemed and had a sense of danger to him. They could be some sort of Bonnie and Clyde pair, if they really wanted to. How was she supposed to go about doing this however? She could tell him to pull over right here, completely take advantage of his adrenalin pumped system, and sink her teeth in. That just seemed so much effort for not enough reward at the moment though.
<Canaan>: As the ignition started Canaan slammed the car into reverse and then put his arm around the passenger seat and looked behind them as he stepped on the gas. The tires would light up and make a squeal as he flipped the steering wheel around like he was the star in his own action movie. He removed his arm from the passenger seat and thrust the shifter into drive and slammed on the gas again. No this was not his first time running from the police of course, but he was not in nearly as big of a hurry as he currently was. The adrenaline pumping through his veins was causing him to focus entirely on the matter at hand, getting the **** out of dodge.

He was not entirely sure why he allowed the woman to enter his car after what she had pulled back at the art auction, but he supposed that if there was anyone in town that would help a criminal, it would be a fellow criminal. As she spoke a wry grin crept along his lips and he only flashed her a devilish gaze. “This isn’t my first time love.” He had no idea what she was, what she had going through her mind at the time, and he didn’t quite care, should he? Probably, but then again he was completely unaware as to what he was getting himself mixed up in. he knew one thing and one thing only. So far this beat board meetings and fundraising events.

He would continue to drive in the opposite direction of the Civic Center until they came to a large overpass. He would then pull over and put the car in park. He looked at her and shook his head “So much for making a good impression on my first night in town” he leaned back into the seat and then stared forward looking off into the distance a bit before glancing back at her “So what now love? Do we have a bank to rob or should we kidnap the mayor’s son?” of course he jested in tone but he was all too curious as to her response. Perhaps she was a psychopath hell bent on destroying the world and anyone standing in her way, or perhaps this was a slip up and she needed to turn in her killers anonymous chips for indulging.

<Abelle>: So he wasn’t scared? Perfect. She met his smile with her own, her eyes glistening as though she had just fallen in love. She loved that even though she had no beating heart, she could hear her’s through his. Just like with any human in times like these, his chest rose up and down and that faint little vein in the side of his neck pulsated hard. He seemed to like all this...chaos. And calling her this ‘love” word only made her laugh, almost manically. She was far from a love of anything. She was a little monster more like. So be it however, she thought the whole thing amusing.

A man of danger. He already belonged to the night and he didn't even know it. Belle cut her eyes over at him gently as he sped on. She hadn’t even given him directions, he was just going and it didn't even matter, her mind was elsewhere at the moment. Scraping her tongue softly over her fangs, she gave this some thought. If she was really about to do this, it would be a commitment. She wouldn't let this end up like her and Thistos. She would hold this one much closer.

“**** good impressions,” she laughed it off as he came to a stop. Turning in her seat a little she faced him now, studying his face with a soft smile. “We can go rob banks, kill cops, kidnap the mayor's son yes,” she nodded and this time gave him a flirtatious grin. “What if I said I could possibly give you a wonderful opportunity to a wonderful life, where doing things like this just doesn’t seem to catch up with you as quickly….what would you say?” reaching up she raked her fingers through her hair and gave him a more serious look. She wished she could have just said I can grant you immortality but that wasn’t entirely true and not with very good wording either.

<Canaan>: Canaan shook his head as the woman cursed about impressions. This he was not used to and it sent a tingle down his spine. Hell, he didn’t even like to curse much to be honest. To him it showed a lack of vocabulary and intelligence. “A good first impression is nearly everything. It is how people remember you, and to be quite honest I like to be remembered as the guy who everyone finds charming but at the same time have the feeling to watch their back.” His hands came up to the steering wheel and gripped it tightly. Yes he loved to be that guy. The one that everyone smiled at in public but secretly changed their panties every time they got home from speaking to him. Fear is a powerful thing, even more powerful when the one wielding it actually has the potential to act on the fears that one possesses.

He shook his head as she spoke “I was merely jesting. I am not a common criminal. It is… much better to be the puppeteer than the puppet, yes?” he smirked with his words and even though she may have been flirting to a point, he let her in just enough to give himself a bit of mystery. As she continued to speak he would reach around the passenger seat to look at her. This sounded a whole lot like what he was afraid of at the civic center... the whole psycho I- think- I’m-your-girlfriend now thing. “I would say maybe take me to a dinner and a movie first” he chuckled. He had no idea what to think of her question. But he was mulling it over as he spoke and she flipped her hair behind her ears. She was gorgeous, but not gorgeous enough for Canaan to be in the city for one day and suddenly wedding bells were being rang and she was ready to say *I Do*.

He leaned back into the seat and looked to his left out of the window, speaking as he did “What does this life you speak of entail? If it involves a ring on my finger I am afraid you have the wrong guy… if not I would need some explanation.” He had no weapons to speak of so this meant if she pleased, he could have a hole in his head just like the guys at the art auction. Right now, he wasn’t entirely sure that it would be a bad thing.

<Abelle>: Belle supposed she knew how to turn on the charm if and when she needed. But being in the position she was in usually she didn’t need it. He did make a point however; she remembered her first time trying out for Ty, her first business meeting ever, her first apartment...all she had turned on a certain amount of charm. Charming just wasnt one of her best qualities, though it should have been with her angelic like appearance and a tone to her voice that could even make girls drop their panties. She had never been in touch with her feminine side however, it was all fun, games and horsing around. Now that she was older...it wouldnt change.

“Trust me Canaan,” she laughed at him, throwing her head back with a crazy roll of her eyes. Marriage really? She was still trying to figure out what happened to the last one. “ I have no desire to marry you or anyone else in this city….ever,” she looked at him endearingly.

“Sometimes there are alternatives to life,” she began to explain, but then stopped when she realized his options here were super limited. She would have much rather him accept what she could give him, it was better than ending his life all together. “Here’s the thing Canaan…” she started again with that same crazy smirk she probably had when she was putting holes through heads just a few blocks back.

“You know too much,” she mockingly sighed and shrugged her shoulders, as she stared so hard it probably felt as though she was glaring straight through him. “Not to give choices here but….you can either accept this invitation to a deeper darker life, or I just….ya know” she made a face to express what death might look like, then laughed. “You won’t have to want for anything ever again for the most part and as far as breaking the law is concerned…” she stopped and thought about how easily she got away with things, as long as she was out of the cops view. “Not that big a deal...really,”

<Canaan>: Canaan continued to stare out of the window as she spoke. He continued to listen not saying a word. Alternatives to life? Death? What possible alternatives were there other than that? Then came the threat. His jaw tightened with the words and his eyes narrowed. There he was. The inner demon he had was coming to the surface and he was doing his best to keep it in check. Canaan didn’t appreciate being threatened, and in most cases his anger was hard to contain when he was. He took a deep breath in and held it there as his gloved hands wrenched at the steering wheel, the grinding leathers causing a creaking as he felt himself wanting to rip the wheel off and beat her in the head with it.

And release. The breath slipped from him and his head twist to the right. His narrowed eyes glared at her as if he was the butcher and she was the lamb going to the slaughter. “Not much of a choice now is it? If that was the case why did you try so hard to stop the men at that event? Why not just do it then….you certainly wouldn’t have to have this awkward conversation now would you?” he shook his head “oh that is right… you needed a getaway car. You petty ******* criminals are all the same. “The words nearly hissed out of his mouth as he felt the rage inside build even more. “What did you gain back there other than a body count? If you are going to commit a crime… at the very least, make sure you ******* get something out of it.” He scoffed “ignorant fucks!” Apparently to Canaan, murder was a petty crime. Never mind that fact, he stared her down as if the next move was hers, but he did leave something for her to think about. “You can continue your blood bath tonight, or perhaps you have someone right here that could take you from getting your own hands dirty, and teach you how to do it from the shadows.”

Canaan was highly intelligent, manipulative, and always thinking ahead. Though right now he certainly wasn’t being any of those. At least it seemed that way. Maybe he knew what her next move was. Maybe this was just his alpha male coming out and telling her that he didn’t follow. He was a leader, and that would never change, not unless he was dead within the next few minutes.


<Abelle>: Unless you were immortal, no one could understand the energy that humans created when they expressed their emotions. It was almost touchable, tasteable,it sent shivers down her spine, when he became rather enraged. Belle cocked her head to the side as she listened to him, trying to hide the smirk that so desperately wanted to seep through. He was rightfully mad. She wouldn't have expected him to be any other way. Hell...if someone gave her an ultimatum basically when she was human, she would have had downright freaked out. But it wasn't her...she was doing the “intimidating”. She wasnt fair. She allowed him to have his momentary breakdown.

Belle listened but she could also hear the rumble in her stomach, that was beginning to make her mouth water. So difficult….humans so difficult...she thought to herself as she nodded as though she was really understanding him. It was becoming apparently so, that much of her humanity was gone and what was left was slipping away slowly but surely. There was a part of her that truly felt for him, but there was also this primal instinct that told her to be unreasonable and just sink her teeth in...see how it all panned out. He had no idea what he was doing to her brain right now. Belle raked her hands over her face and sat up a little straighter in the seat.

“Ok well…” she let the smirk go now, which turned into a light laugh. “For starters, I kill because I love it. Simply put. I love bloodshed and seeing bodies and yes my body count is very high...im proud of myself,” she tapped her finger against her chin as she thought about how many indeed. He was calling her a petty criminal and she was fine with that. Criminal. Serial killer. She could identify with many titles she supposed. “They would call me a serial killer I guess…” she shrugged.

She guessed she should have been a little more consistent of her actions. He seemed to have thought she needed a bit of training on how to be discreet and have other people do her bidding. That was the whole point...having fun. Getting her tiny little hands dirty. She loved it. Belle looked over at him a bit lost, almost an innocence in her eyes. He wanted to help her after all this? Or save his own neck? Mmm did that neck sure look tasty, she smacked her lips a little then grinned up at him.

“How about I give you immortality?” she whispered over at him. It didn't matter if she told him or not at this point, he was either to be childe or dead the way she seen it. Masquerade so not broken here, she convinced herself. “ That is the best thing anyone could ever offer to...anyone,”

<Canaan>: He had finally done it. This was what staring at pure crazy was like. Canaan had heard of people like her. What was that word that they used for people like her? Oh yes, sociopath. While Canaan was no saint, he certainly wasn’t one to kill without a reason. It didn’t have to be a good one, as long as he had one. That made him better in his mind. That guy stole my ice cream, kill him. Yes, much better than the random *the barrel of my gun is cold, better kill someone* technique. He shook his head as if he were disappointed, either in her or himself was left to anyone’s best guess.

“Serial killer?” he scoffed “I would hardly call you a serial killer. Where is the technique? The art?” he shook his head “no love, you are what I would call a trigger happy girl with a personality disorder” he released the steering wheel and started taking off his gloves. he would slowly pull at each finger in disgust whilst speaking to her “To be considered a serial killer, there is a common pattern, a ritualistic style to the kill, popping a few brutes behind a public building for no other reason than you feel like it, does not make you a serial killer.” He would lay the gloves on the dash of his car and look to her.

“Immortality? Really?” his face turned to surprise, like a kid at his birthday party that had just gotten the newest Playbox or Xstation… whatever it was that the kiddos played these days. All in all it was seriously sarcastic as he thought this girl was straight from the local asylum now “Are you a nutter? No seriously…should I take you back to the hospital so that you can get back on your meds?” he shifted his body in his seat so that he was now fully turned to her “So immortality…how is this supposed to happen?” he would wave his hands in the air as if he were trying to explain something to himself more than to her “let's say, I say yes….do you have magical Jesus juice, or are you handing out free candy today? Did you by chance drive a white van to the art auction, or what am I missing?” he shrugged “sure I will take immortality, then perhaps I have a better chance of getting out of this car and the hell away from your psycho babble. So yes... Give me immortality…but good lord this better taste like cherries, I hate grape” He had no idea what might be coming.

<Abelle>: He thought it was all just one big joke. Going on about how she wasn't a serial killer. Fine if she wasn't a serial killer than she was a mass murderer, but that's not what she had been told. It took everything she had to not revert to childish ways and mock him, but she knew better and in that area she was slowly learning. Her childlike manners, sometimes proved just how young and human she still really was. Belle watched as he removed his gloves and then turned to look at her. He thought she was crazy….it was so cute. Normally she heard things like…’you crazy *****’ or ‘you freakin psycho’, but he called her nutters. That was almost sweet.

Here he was making light of immortality, but he had no idea what it could truly mean for him. Sure she could spend hours explaining all the wonderful and not so wonderful things that came with the title. She had only done this a couple times before...she was no expert. Jump on him, straddled in the car, bite his neck, drench this nice new car in blood…? She couldn't do that. Not to him and not to the car. She quickly shot a look out the window. Anyplace but here. There was no place for them to go and she didn't see him being exactly cooperative upon finding a suitable place, to take his life and start a new one. So here it was...front of a car. She felt a sigh inside. Silly humans.

“Oh I’m not crazy,” she shook her head with a laugh. “I’m probably one of the most sane ones out of the little group of friends I keep,” she thought about crazy Mortll and then about her friends in Ty. Now they were crazy...not her. Either way it didn't matter. Tonight was her light side, of course if she went through with this, he would see that in the future and hopefully get just as “crazy” as she.

His consent was all she needed. Every bone in her body ached for her to just attack...drain him, feed him and then...leave him? No. She would drain him the right way, feed him correctly and then teach him, just like it had been done for her. This was awkward. For them both she was sure. Belle pushed her small frame away from the seat and leaned over at him, avoiding eye contact as they got closer. She leaned into his body, and then nuzzled her face against his neck slightly. He would probably assume she was some sort of weird sex fiend, trying to do some weird kinky fetish. Her lips found his ear and she whispered softly.

“It tastes better than grapes or cherries,” she purred against his skin. “Tastes like sin…” she laughed and then with no further warning she sank her teeth in, deep and with precision, right to the thickest vein she could see. She waited for the fight, resting her hands on his forearms, ready to fight back if she had to. Once she was in feeding mode, she would be animalistic to tear apart from.

<Canaan>: He watched her carefully as she spoke. So not only was she crazy he had decided, but her friends topped her at bat ****. Out of all the women he could have picked up at the art auction, he had to get this one. Apparently he chose the wrong magnet…what he meant to choose was the rich and affluent magnet, what he picked up was the crazy ***** magnet. He really needed to label them.

Here he sat, staring at a lunatic, at least in his mind, and no sooner than he had said yes to her Jesus juice or whatever the hell she was talking about, she was using his neck as a face scratcher. Just like a cat. What was it with women and thinking that guys liked when women acted like cats? Canaan hated cats.

As she whispered in his ear, he couldn’t help but to be a bit aroused, I mean come on, look at her, she was gorgeous after all. Even when you added up the two tons of crazy that she was, he could probably ditch her somehow in the morning. The night had been a bit stressful and he could use a release. If he was locked in a dungeon in the morning, well at the very least he would have gotten his rocks off.

Then he felt it. He sort of froze at first, his eyes widening in disbelief. Did she really just bite him? At first it was a pinch, just like the doctor tells you when you are getting a shot. Then he felt it deeper, more painful than at first. It burned like mad. The crazy ***** really just bit him! This wasn’t an ordinary bite though. He had been bitten before…another crazy ***** at another time, that story would be left for later, but this felt different. This was like what he would imagine a snake bite would feel like. He could feel… no that wasn’t possible… or was it? Was this immortality thing she spoke of...actually vampires? His mind was drifting away. He hadn’t quite got his mind wrapped around the whole thing enough for him to even attempt to fight.

No the pain had gone for the most part. He could feel her inside of his flesh, but his body was going numb. He could feel his breathing slow; his heart was not beating nearly as fast. His eyes closed and he lost himself in the moment. At that point his neck moved to the side, allowing her in deeper if she wished. His hand moved to the hand she had over his forearm and would grab it ever so gently and guide it to him. He would press it upon himself, so that not only could she feel the throbbing of the vein in his neck, but also elsewhere. Somehow, all of this turned him on, at least after all the initial shock wore off.

Then he started to fade. It came quicker than he had imagined. There was no white light, no angels with harps and no bearded guy at a gate. He knew all of that fairy tale ******** was a lie for the sheep anyway. There was just black. And he would drift. The black never ended. No matter how far he drifted, it was there. He was alone, and for once. Everything was quiet.

<Abelle>: Belle thought she had been gentle enough, and while there didn't seem to be any real strain on the situation, she could feel his body tense.

Gently grabbing his hand and placing it back at his side, she giggled against his skin and whispered again into his flesh. “Canaan...you bad boy,” he would probably only hear that in his subconscious, as she could hear his pulse getting fainter and fainter. She knew he was close to death now and wondered how it felt. Belle wished she could remember what that moment felt like, frightening but good. Lifting her lips from his neck, she seen the slight mess she had made and licked it away from him, savoring every drop. She was beyond full now. Now it was time to give some back.

“Alright, time to start your new life, “ she whispered and pulled her wrist to her mouth, bit in deep enough and brought it to his lips, her other hand lifting the back of his neck slightly. Either he would be a raging blood animal when he wakened or a whimpering stallion...she really hoped for the first. Dragging her wrist across his lips, she wiggled it just to let him know she was there waiting with help from the other side. He would thank her for this eventually.

<Canaan>: Faint whispers echoed, and then faded as the void enveloped him. He heard nothing, felt nothing, as he drifted further and further into the black. Then a voice, more menacing than his own spoke. “And so it begins” it was a booming voice he had never heard before. He looked around the void but saw the same blackness he had seen before. Then whispers. A thousand whispers all around him. He couldn’t make out a single word they were saying. His mind was wracked with questions as to where all of these voices were coming from. Then they stopped. It was dead silent once more. He continued to look into the black. There was nothing any longer. He tried to shout for them to come out but as he opened his mouth, no sound. Then he felt it. Something was in his mouth. At first he didn’t know what it was, it was metallic and sweet all at the same time. He had tasted it before. Blood. Just as he realized it, and looked forward, he could see something coming toward him. It rushed at him like a freight train, but Canaan just stood there. He swallowed the blood, and just as he did the thing hit him hard.

His eyes shot open, now tasting the exact same blood he had tasted in the void. As it trickled down his throat he could feel his body impulse toward the open wound Abelle had created. He wanted more. A lot more. He would press his lips against her wrist and move his hands toward her arm, hoping to force it harder to his mouth, if successful, he would start to draw in deeper, and as he did he would feel his fangs extend with a quickness that would force a nun to evacuate her bowels. The devil was here, and he was hungry.