Path of the Vampire forum

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Her elbow pressed into the bar as she leaned her weight against the counter, swearing to herself that she was too sober for this ****, and feeling very much out of place. Not because she looked it, no, look wise she fit in perfectly. Women all around her were dressed up in floor length gowns and jewels that could have come from royalty for all she knew, and she fit in. Though it was a relatively cool day in Sicily, she still had chosen to go with something that bared her toned and tanned arms. She had come 'home' needing to get away from the city that she truly knew as home for this... palace. Isabeau had pretty much failed her father, but she didn't feel in danger. No, just uncomfortable.

The dress fit her like a glove, fell down and flowed to the floor like water and was the color of the Aegean sea. The heels - god she hated them - were slippery, making her all the more conscious when walking, especially on the slippery Italian marble floors that seemed to line the entire house. She had already been caught by several men, many of them her 'guards', and she was none to pleased about being touched by them. Even if they were keeping her from falling on her ***.

"You're drink, Signora..." Her blue eyes shifted to the bartender and then flutter a little as she nodded a thanks to him and took her Pieropan Soave Classico La Rocca, sipping it slowly. She was more of a Whiskey or Bourbon girl but the wine was good enough. Perhaps it was just the Italian snob that she kept stamped way, way, way down that was enjoying it, but she couldn't complain. Well, she could, and she most likely would - later - but for now, she needed to get out. There was too much wealth around her, too much that was pretty tempting to steal, but she was sure that would end very badly for her. Why she was here in the first place she didn't know... just that she needed the escape.

As she sipped the wine she walked away from the party and headed for her room, needing to get out of the expensive dress and back into things that she rather wear. Like a tank top and her cargo pants. The men followed her but then stopped outside her door and flanked it like the guards they were. She needed to get the hell away from them as well.

Once she was once again comfortable in her own clothes, she glanced around the room. Finishing off the wine, Bo smirked and looked to the window and the huge patio that it opened onto. She already knew that she could get out that way, she had done it before. So that was her exit and soon she was heading towards the garage where she had had one of her cars from home flown over so that she could drive it here. There were races, she heard, that they had and she was really in the need for the bust of nitro-filled adrenaline.

Safely away from the compound, she was able to breathe, even if she was slightly drunk off the wine, things were clearer to her. She weaved through traffic, cutting a few people off, more than likely pissing them off - but then they were Italian, it didn't take much to piss them off when it came to driving - and driving up their blood pressure. Her music was going and she was relaxing the further away she got from that party. She never saw it coming...

There was just the sound, metal crunching into metal, the quick pow of gun powder as the airbag deployed, glass shattering, tires squealing like pigs, and then there was nothing... darkness... silence...

It had been nearly 30 minutes since the accident. People had called the paramedics, they had arrived and pulled the unconscious Bo from her crumbled car. The injures were extensive. And only 10 minutes later she was being wheeled into an ER... all of this though she was oblivious too, still unconscious. Her blood pressure was thready, and all the injuries she sustained were still bleeding, but the EMTs and ER Doctors were all working at trying to stop it as they wheeled her into a free bay and transferred her off of the gurney and onto a real bed. Wires and tubes and electrodes were being attached and placed into her, and still there was no answer from her as doctors tried to talk to her in both Italian and English.

Several hours later she now lay in a room, having been admitted to the actual hospital, the machines beeped, letting people know that despite her being unresponsive because of her head injuries, she was still alive. Unconscious, but alive. Outside, a nurse worked on paper work and then came across a note from the ER doctor and a card that had been in her pocket. The rest of her stuff was in a plastic bag under the bed she lay in, but the nurse looked at the card and then picked up the phone.

Dialing the number, the nurse listened and then began to speak in English but her accent was very think, proof that she didn't speak English often, "Good Evening, Signore, A young lady was brought into the hospital earlier today. She is unconscious and has no identification, this card was found with your number in her belongings, we were wondering if you could come in and see if you could identify her for us..."

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((The Dress))

It wasn't long after that call that a large male walked through the doors of the hospital and made his way towards the desk. His deep baritone voice and Italian accent made his English a bit hard to understand at first, but then he switched to Italian and soon he was being led back through the small ICU rooms to where the girl was. As the nurse, trying hard to keep her composure and not swoon, spoke of the girl's condition, or at least, what little she could tell him. He had confirmed when he arrived at the desk that though he knew her family, that he himself was not family.

As they entered where Isabeau was, the machines were beeping their little melody in that steady beat. He looked at her and even though she was severely injured and bruised from the crash, he knew that it was indeed who he thought it was. It was his boss' daughter and he was going to **** bricks when he found out that not only had his daughter slipped away from him and the rest of the guys that had been assigned to protect her while she was here, but that she was in this state as well. He himself was wondering how long he would stay in the man's employ once he told him. That was assuming he wasn't killed before he was fired.

He took a step closer and looked at her a bit more closely, noting silently to himself what injuries he could clearly see and make out. Then he turned and began to speak in his rushed Italian, telling the nurse not only what she wanted to know, but that she should be treated with the best respect and that the hospital would soon be hearing why. After that, he was walking out of the hospital and as soon as he stepped outside his phone was to his ear and he was calling his boss... her father... and he knew that the **** was definitely about to hit the fan.

Back inside the hospital, the nurse looked over Isabeau and reached out to push a lock of the girl's brown hair out of her bruised face. "I don't know why you deserve special treatment, but I guess we will find out soon enough... won't we Isabeau." She said in English, her accent making her words sound all the more sinister. To the nurse, the name St. Martin meant nothing to her. It wasn't even an Italian name.

Of course, what the nurse did not know was that the guard had given the nurse only the information that was known to everyone that wasn't his team and her father. St. Martin was a false identity that she had lived under all her life. Yes, her first name was true enough... but very few people knew that she even existed, and those that did knew her by her middle name because that was her Italian name that her father had used when she was younger.

The nurse gave the broken, sleeping girl one last look and then turned to go about the rest of her work, leaving only the soft steady beep to fill the otherwise quiet room.

Dec. 31, 2015 9:00 PM - Sicily, Italy

Eight weeks later.

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It had been eight weeks since the accident. He stood there, listening to the soft and repeated beeping that assured him that she was indeed alive. Alive, but still in a coma. It was even begging to worry the doctors. The best in the world... he had sparred no expense. For her, he would do what ever it took. The doctors were still scratching their heads as to why she wasn't waking up. All tests were coming back to say that she was healing, she was getting better, that she shouldn't be unconscious still. And yet, she was. It was just that beeping.

Thankfully, she was breathing on her own, but that coma was the only thing currently wrong with her. Doctors had run every test they could think of, and while her brain seemed to be registering things and there were no other injuries hindering her brain, she still wasn't waking. He sighed softly and walked over to her, brushing her dark hair out of her face before he placed a soft kiss to her forehead and turned to walk out. Outside, the guards protecting her looked to him and nodded. They had specific instructions. No one but the right doctors and nurses could go in... and if she woke up he was to be called A.S.A.P.

One of the guards waited until his boss was out of sight before he glanced into the room and gave a sigh of frustration himself. He hadn't been fired, but the reaming he got still replayed in his mind. And they there was her, unresponsive, not waking up. Eight weeks. He sighed again, glanced to his stoic partner and then glanced back in the direction he should be staring in. Not at her, not at the girl that was laying there because she had slipped past him and his partner and got out without them.

Her father had spent an obscene amount of money to find out what happened to put her in the hospital. The only thing that made things difficult was the fact that it had been a total accident. At least, that is what all reports were showing towards right now. Had it be clearly an attack on her or on his boss things would be going far differently, as it stood, it wasn't clear. That didn't mean that he and his partner could let down his guard again just because it looked like an accident, only the doctors that had been hired, only the nurses that had been cleared could go around her, and even they were watched like hawks. Everything they did was questioned.

One thing that did put him and his partner on a bit of a high alert was the fact that one of her nurses had seemed to take an unhealthy interest in her. In the people around her. Like she was trying to figure out who she was and what she meant to those people. The woman had not come in yet despite her being assigned to come in hours ago. Of course, with it being New Years, it was possible that she just blew off work for the party that seemed to be going from dawn out in the rest of Italy, but he doubted it. Not with how much attention she paid to everything going on.

She had been cleared on the surface, but the deeper stuff was still being searched for. They all knew that things could be created to look like something it wasn't, especially in their line of work. Hell, the woman laying in the bed unconscious behind him was a clear example of that. Her story was so solid that even she had forgotten a lot of her life until confronted by her father that one night. Years without him, on her own had taken its toll on her. She wasn't a sweet girl, she was a killer that actually thrived on killing. It seemed the more she killed, the stronger she got. Death was her drug. Every life she took took her away from the child she had once been. A child he barely remembered because he had been so new to his job and then she and her mother had vanished soon after.

His eyes snapped to the nurse that he had just been thinking about as she walked in, looking strangely pleased about something. That put him on a higher guard, him and his partner both seemed to tense at the same time. They would be watching her even more tonight.

Midnight was closely closing in, a new year would come and go and she was still unconscious. Would she know? Could she hear the TV that they had actually turned on to see if she would wake to the noise? It was often hypothesized that people could hear while they were in a coma, but in truth, it was hard to tell if it were true or not. They could hear the news people all reporting in, switching between several parties and then also the Vatican where people were not only celebrating the new year but awaiting the Pope and to hear what he would say for the new year to come. Music played between broadcasts, and people were wishing other people a good new year before commercials.

"5...4...3...2...1!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!" The people screamed not only on the TVs but also on the floor they were on and probably throughout the entire hospital. However, he and his partner just glanced at each other and then that is when they heard it...

"****..." Both heads snapped to the voice and locked on pissed off blue eyes. She was awake.

The hours that followed were quickly grating on her nerves, nurses - one in particular - prodding and stabbing her with needles and checking all of her vitals and bandages. Doctors coming and going all of them asking the same questions over and over again. It was getting to the point that she was contemplating calling over one of the guards that were standing by her door to her so she could use their guns to blow away they next person that asked her if she knew who she was or where she was. With a grunt, she lay back in the bed and glanced up at the TV, the parties were still going full throttle, but then this was Italy, anything to party about was partied about to extremes.

By the time the doctors had chosen to leave her alone, she was ready to stab someone, but at the same time, she noticed the way her guards seemed more stiff than usual. This was something else to obsess about while she had nothing left to do but lay there and heal up even more than she had been since she had been out cold. She noticed that one nurse in particular made them tense as she passed by them to get to her. The nurse was overly friendly, calling her sweetie and dear and all sorts of pet names, and that there annoyed the hell out of her, but the way she paid attention to her stats and charts is what really made Bo hone in on the woman. She was trying to learn something, to gain information on her, perhaps on her connections and why she was in a private room with two huge guards standing like statues in front of her door.

Once she left, she glanced over to the guards and one of them simply gave a shrug the other watched her for a moment and then turned his eyes back on the nurse again. As if he had been making sure that the nurse hadn't tried to harm her in some way before going back to keeping guard. Clearly he had some idea that something was up with the woman but what he knew, she didn't know and she knew that she wouldn't know unless her father gave them permission to tell her.

Her father, during one of the times when she had been alone, Gabriel - one of the guards - had handed her the phone and she spent a good hour talking to him. He had visited her while she was out but was unable to now that she was awake.

Figures

Their conversation didn't go into much else other than him wishing her to feel better soon. Right now though, the only thing that would make her feel better was to kill someone... preferably in the most brutal way.

Days later, she had been released and was headed back to her father's place to wait while doctors cleared her for flight. Every day that Bo had to wait was making her more and more aggressive and moody. Eventually, the doctors finally relented and she was finding herself sitting in a first class seat heading back to the city where she was to go back to her watch dog job for her father. Of course, she didn't know how she was going to pull that off now, but she had a good nine hour flight to figure out just what she was going to do.

So when the stewardess thought she was sleeping, she was in fact planning... plotting. She had to get her head back in the game. It had been messed with in a way she hadn't seen and she had to focus. One of the things she planned to do when she got back though was get back into her training... training equaled focus to her and it would also allow her to prepare for things that may or may not happen in the coming days.

In nine hours she was going to double down, get her *** in gear and work her *** off to not only get back to herself physically, but mentally. She may be going 'home' but her mind was set solely on work.