by Harold Wall
for Night People (not that a lot of them would be out in the middle of the day). Sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of a black flower painted on the back of alley doors, mostly
dahlia's; the flower of witches. Emerald was very tempted to go into the store, the front entrance of course, but thought better of it. Witches really weren't as bad as vampires
(some could be); there was really no need to stir the pot.
Soon enough, the sun began to set and the lights of the strip burned brightly and flashed in a disorienting way. As it got later, Emerald decided she'd head back to the mansion and
try to a get a good night's sleep. It seemed like the night, the thing she used to be a part of, practically one with, was giving her the cold shoulder as well. She couldn't sleep fully
and soundly through the night without a nightmare. It didn't matter what it was or who was in it, they deprived Emerald of sleep all the same.
Maybe getting out and wearing herself down would make her so tired she wouldn't be able to dream.
However when Emerald arrived back at the mansion people were scattered and things were in a panic. Outside, guards conversed and looked suspiciously over their shoulders,
always scanning the area around Thierry's house. Inside was even worse: there were more of those FBI agents, running around; words flew all around the house as they
communicated with each other.
Emerald only caught snippets. It sounded like Hannah had been kidnapped by Maya (Emerald couldn't be sure if it was the Maya, but if it was, she wondered how someone like
Hannah had gotten into such deep trouble), and they'd found Thierry… or Thierry had come back, or maybe he'd contacted them. She wasn't really sure. It was hard to concentrate
when the agents were rushing around bumping into Emerald constantly.
Things were absolutely chaotic.
Emerald made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but Rashel and Quinn were revealed to be arguing as the door swung open. Don't ask because Emerald wouldn't know.
She assumed the kitchen was the only private place they could speak right now.
Anyhow, you could say it was awkward, but that would've been an understatement. They both turned toward her with cold eyes, Rashel breaking off midsentence.
Emerald worked up the nerve to say, "If… if there's anything I can do to help—"
"You've done enough, thank you." Rashel interrupted her coldly.
"Besides you'd only get in the way with your disability." Quinn added.
Emerald fought the impulse to attack him on the spot and show him how this cripple could beat him up, but there were two problems. Rashel was standing right there: no doubt
she'd pull Emerald off before she could do any lasting damage, that is if Quinn didn't get to her first. Secondly, they seemed to be in a crisis, and interfering by getting into a fight
wouldn't win any brownie points with these people.
Biting her tongue so hard Emerald tasted blood, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen and back upstairs to her room. With a growl, she ripped off her brace and threw it across
the room.
Her shoulder was still severely sore, even after doing the exercises daily, like the doctor had instructed. She'd probably need to go in again for a follow up when she got back to
New York. Until then… if she didn't want her shoulder to pop out, she would have to wear the stupid brace. It wasn't ideal, especially after being called disabled by a vampire, but if
she wore it now, there would be less damage later.
With a resigned sigh, Emerald trudged over to her brace and carefully put it back on.
Emerald flew up in her bed, her heart pounding behind her ribcage, sweat soaked her clothes and the sheets around her, her hair stuck to her neck and face, and she felt
overheated.
Still panting Emerald jumped off the bed and opened the window, sticking her head and gulping in deep breaths of cold air. It wasn't ideal because of the way Las Vegas smelled,
but it was better than the air inside her room right now and it was cold, that was a bonus.
When Emerald felt she'd calmed down enough, she gently closed the window and walked back inside, but the walls were closing in, the air in the room was being sucked right from
Emerald's lungs. Emerald let out a strangled cry and clutched at the wall. There was a moment when she thought that she was going to have a total meltdown, but as her heart
slowed and the adrenaline ceased, her brain started to sort through her emotions.
With a few more deep breaths, Emerald had gotten herself under control. Still, she needed to move. After a quick shower and change of clothes, Emerald went out running again not
counting how many miles she was running this time. She just ran and ran and ran, until she felt she couldn't run anymore. When that time came, she started back toward the mansion.
Exercise was good. It got oxygen to the brain and stimulated the muscles. It also helped Emerald think. She was going back to New York, it didn't matter if she found Storm or not.
He obviously wanted nothing to do with her and if he did, he'd come find her himself.
When Emerald started down the long drive, through the thick night air, she saw a car. It was sitting idle near the walkway to Thierry's estate. Picking up the pace, her curiosity
getting the best of her—hey she wasn't going to be here after this anyway—she ran down the drive, and as she got closer, she saw two people get out of the small black car with
darkly tinted windows and no license plates. The first was a boy, of course the made vampire age with a shock of whiteblond hair.
Based on what Emerald had heard, that was Thierry, Lord of the Night World. It was kind of odd to see a mere teenager being a Lord of anything, but he was one of the oldest, and
second, vampires ever made.
After Thierry came a girl Emerald assumed was Hannah, based on everything that had gone on the past few days. She was pretty, Emerald had to admit. And the way Thierry
looked at her, the way she looked at him, Emerald had to wonder if the reason she was so important was because they were soulmates.
Emerald slowed slightly, her breath caught, and her heart ached when the third person stepped out of the passenger's side door.
Storm, it was Storm. He'd finally come back.
No, she had to leave before he had time to corner her and ask why she was here. She didn't have the nerve to go up to him and demand to talk to him. It was honestly frightening.
Not because she was afraid he'd hurt her or kill her, but because of what he'd say, how he'd react to her apology. They hadn't ended on the sweetest note, and thinking about
actually talking to him about what happened when he was really there, when he was tangible, was too much.
Pushing herself even more so now, Emerald sprinted forward, swerving around the car and onto the walkway. She slowed slightly as she came close to Storm, closer than she had
been in about a week (maybe ten days), but she pushed through her fear and kept running. She ignored his startled cry of her name and continued on, past Thierry and Hannah and
into the house.
Inside she slammed the door and didn't stop running until in her room. She grabbed her backpack from underneath the bed and started throwing her clothes and toiletries into it.
She slung the strap over her good shoulder and opened the door, almost crashing into Storm.
Yes, actually, I am." Emerald answered in a clipped tone, trying to get her heart to slow. She looked behind him at the empty hallway, yearning to just shove pass him and book it.
"It is apparent that they don't want me here. I made a promise that when you arrived back I'd leave. I'm simply keeping to that promise. So, if you'll just excuse me—" Emerald
took a step forward, toward the small gap between Storm and the door, but Storm moved accordingly, blocking her only way out.
"Why are you really he
re, Emerald?" Storm asked his voice not totally devoid of any emotion, but not full of happiness or elation in seeing Emerald either. "I know you, and you
wouldn't have flown all the way to Las Vegas just to see me and then leave as soon you did." He paused. "Unless you're… scared, of something." His tone had a slight mocking edge
to it.
Emerald, who'd been avoiding his gaze until now, glared up at him.
"Scared? What made you think I was scared?" she asked coldly. She knew it was true, but it was so frustrating when he pushed her buttons like that.
"Based on you totally ignoring me when I called your name, the backpack over your shoulder, and your eagerness to rush out, I think anyone watching would come to the conclusion
that you're scared." Storm explained, not moving from his spot. "So, again, I ask: why are you here, Emerald?"
Emerald looked down again cursing to herself silently. Finally, without a word she turned and walked over to one of the bench windows, throwing her backpack against the wall just
underneath the window, before situating herself on the bench, one bent leg on, one leg hanging over the side, back pressed up against the wall.
"I wanted to talk to you." she said quietly, still refusing to meet his eyes. Storm slowly closed the door, the room darkening tremendously, but didn't move from his spot across the
room.
"About what?" he asked when Emerald didn't elaborate. When she still didn't continue, Storm decided to break the ice himself. "You know, I think you were wrong about something."
he finally told her.
"Oh, wrong about what exactly?" Emerald mumbled, twiddling her fingers.
Storm finally came forward a little bit, stopping at the bed, and leaning against the frame. "You told me that day I saved you from being run over that you had died when you came
back from your father's."
"Yeah, so?" Emerald asked wondering why in the world he was bringing this up.
"I think," Storm continued slowly, carefully choosing his words. "That when you take that first life, that you don't die completely, on the inside. When you kill someone for the first
time, only… a part of you dies."
Emerald held up her hands, the darkness of the room doing no good to hide the blood.
"It wouldn't matter," she murmured. "I've killed so many that it's hard to believe I even have a soul left."
Storm walked up to the bench and sat down, mirroring Emerald, trying to catch her eye.
"I wanted to apologize," Emerald finally said, looking up at Storm, meeting his gaze. She felt breathless as she waited for his response to this.
His gaze was steady, his eyes perfectly clear as he told her: "I hope you know that this isn't going to change anything."
Emerald blinked. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"I appreciate you coming to apologize to me, but I want you to know that doesn't automatically mean that everything's going to be good between us and we're going to get back
together." he explained more.
Emerald's breath caught and she swears her heart stopped beating completely. Her chest tightened, her lungs expanded and contracted unnecessarily, her brain became foggy and
heavy, her muscles cramped and shrieked for oxygen.
How had she not known? How had she been so oblivious? Was she so naϊve that she thought what Storm meant wasn't true? That it didn't have any deeper meaning that she was too
distraught to notice? Emerald felt ridiculous for not realizing this, she felt so embarrassed.
"Emerald," Storm said softly, bringing her back to the present. Her face felt hot, her tears cool in comparison. "You… you did know… that we—"
Emerald wiped away her tears and forced a painful smile. "I know—I… I knew, already. Of course I knew. How could I not?" She sniffled and wiped more of her tears away, but
they just kept coming and coming. "Um… my apology." She took a deep, shaky breath and broke eye contact, her smile dropping, looking out at the window. She had to hold it
together for just a few more seconds longer. That was all she needed to do and then she could give in. She could let her demons have their way with her.
She looked back over at Storm. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for… everything I've put you through. I'm sorry for all my antics and all the pain I've caused you. I didn't
see how selfish I was being, and you've opened my eyes to this. I appreciate that.
"And I'm sorry for taking your love for granted. I never sat down to fully appreciate and be grateful for how much you care—cared—about me. And I hope that for this one last time
you can forgive me." She finished and forced another small, painful smile. "Bye, Storm." She choked out, her voice almost breaking.
Before waiting for his reaction or whatever he might want to say, Emerald grabbed her backpack, throwing it over her shoulder as she quickly made her way to the door. The dam
wasn't going to hold much longer and she needed to be far, far away from here. Like New York far. She didn't want to have anything to do with Las Vegas anymore.
It wasn't home.
Taking deep breaths, trying to get her dead heart to beat again, Emerald went over to the railing, looking down. Three stories was too far up. She glanced at the stairs, but they'd
take too long…. But if she injured herself now, it'd do no good. Making a snap decision, Emerald sprinted down the stairs until she got to the second floor, where she promptly
grabbed the railing with her good arm, and threw both her legs over. Holding her breath, Emerald braced for impact and as soon as the balls of her feet hit the floor, she rolled to
her right. As soon as her feet hit the floor again she launched herself toward the front door and was on the Strip in no time at all.
"What's the earliest flight you have back to New York?" Emerald asked the woman at the desk, breathless, struggling to keep her head above the surface of the water.
The woman typed away on the computer and scanned the screen. "We have one seat left for our two o'clock, but it leaves in five minutes. Can you make it?" If it got Emerald out of
here then she could make it in thirty seconds.The girl was interrupted during her midnight stroll through the dangerous, usually quiet at night, parts of town, stopping in front of the opening to poorly lit alleyway.
Smiling to herself she silently, stealthily, expertly crept into the darkest part of the alley, turning into the darkness, the shadows.
If it wasn't already obvious two hunters had managed to corner a vampire. She stood and watched the two, interrogate this poor vampire, stabbing him when he didn't answer, or
as motivation to answer.
Should I help him? Should I not? What would I gain if I did? The girl questioned as this tortureinterrogating session continued.
Need assistance? She finally asked the boy telepathically. He wasn't halfbad looking with fluffy, curly blond hair and bright sky blue eyes. However, he looked somewhat exhausted
with cuts and bruises, his chest heaving like they'd just gotten done with a fight. Oh, and of course his new wounds from the girl's knife.
His sky blue eyes darted around the alley looking around to put a face to this mysterious voice, before his face contorted in pain as the girl stuck her blade into his side. He let out
a hiss.
"Who are you?" the boy growled. "What do you want?"
The female hunter got an exasperated look in her eyes. "I thought we've been over this—"
Pursing her lips the girl took a small step forward, still slightly covered curiously in darkness. Her hair hung around her face, in very loose spirals; thick, sleek, glossy. It was
almost ghostly how it framed her face nicely, partly covering her right eye, making her all the more eerie, but intriguing. The small, delicate smile on her face was sinister and
wicked.
The male hunter held up his spear point facing the girl as he sneered, "Well would y
ou look who it is."
The female hunter snorted. "You shouldn't be here. Are you so blind, so stupid, that you didn't know you were thrown out? We thought for sure that you not showing up at our
headquarters meant you knew." she sighed sarcastically.
"I guess she was just too scared to show her face back here. What, afraid that we might get revenge?" He jabbed at her. "Have a little fun." He jokingly jabbed at her again, but this
time the girl's hand shot out and caught the shaft of his spear. There was a moment of tense silence before she did a 360 toward the male hunter, hitting him square in the nose
with her elbow as soon as she had done her full rotation. As he collapsed she pulled the spear out of his hand, swinging it around and cutting the girl across the cheek, through her
scarf.
Before the female hunter could respond, the other girl brought the shaft of the spear back around hitting the girl's head so hard the shaft splintered. The female hunter hit the
ground and the girl threw the spear down next to her.
A smirk still on her face she turned her head to look at the vampire male. He was glaring at her, his eyes silver, his canines pushing down into his bottom lip. It looked like he
wasn't about to give up just yet.
"What are you playing at?" he snarled, his muscles rippling, his body tensing.
"You didn't answer my question so I took your questions as a yes." the girl told him not bothered by the fact that he could attack at any second. "Although," the girl started looking
slightly peeved, "I would've really appreciated it if you hadn't given my position away so quickly. I was having fun."
"Well I'm sorry for being so weak I couldn't telepathically communicate with you." he replied scathingly, turning back to his human appearance.
"You look kind of beat up. Care to join me?" the girl asked pulling the unconscious male hunter toward her, grabbing his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck.
The blondhaired, blueeyed boy's eyebrows quirked up and a devilish smile pulled at the edge of his lips.
"I like the way you think." he commented, picking up the girl, and together they let the silver flood their eyes, and their canines elongate into deadly points.
