Stepping Lightly

[Saiketsu]

He would have been sweating, adrenaline rushing through his pumping heart as the Ancient in the backseat shouted for him to obey. His instinct was to do so, to stop the car and let her out - self preservation and all that. Instead he bit his lip and looked into the rearview mirror, pressing his foot on the accelerator. He wouldn't stop or say anything until he arrived at Damien's, praying that the cellar would actually hold her.

--

Damien fought the urge to act upon his own instincts as he watched Odessa swipe for the headrest of the driver's seat. Instead of weighing into her mind and pressing, pressing down until she calmed, he watched as Nadia, whose experience in this particular environment far outweighed his own, caught those flying hands and held them to her face. This was going much worse than he anticipated. Nadia, whom he admired for her cool temper in the face of her Sire's wildness, held those flying hands as if Sonya were some child who needed help during a tantrum. If he were of a better mind, he would have found it bittersweet.

"Yes," Damien said, feeding into Nadia's story. "I want to show you my new house, don't you remember? It looks similar to the house we shared in Paris, isn't that right, Pierre?"

"That's right," Pierre managed stiffly, carrying the lie one step further to believability. Or so Damien hoped.

"Magnificent art pieces, five bedrooms, and a full basement. Please say you'll stay for a few minutes, Odessa? I've been waiting a long time to show you." He swallowed, hoping he was getting through. Damien licked his lips and added, "I even have a human pet waiting at the house."

[The Cedar Witch]

Odessa gazed into Nadia’s eyes, momentarily transfixed as she spoke.  In spite of the comforting feelings emanating from her fledge, Odessa’s insides churned like the sea.  Yes, they were all going somewhere.  But where were they going?  Did anyone ever say?  She couldn’t remember agreeing to anything besides hunting and they could do that anywhere in the city.  Why was no one obeying her wishes?  Why was she pressed between the two like a child in the middle seat of the car?  She most certainly did not have everything that she needed.  The gnawing, scratching, burning in her throat--the nausea--insisted differently. 

Damien broke the spell and she whipped suddenly to face him, eyes narrow with suspicion.  Maybe this wasn’t Damien.  Was this something that Damien would actually say?  Would he actually have a pet in his home?  This didn’t sound like the Damien she knew.  No, not at all.  Damien was stoic with grief, disinterested in playing with his food--as if holding his own nature at arm’s length.  No--this wasn’t Damien.  But if it wasn’t than who was it?  The only one she could be certain of was Nadia.  Dear, sweet Nadia.  But why was she allowing her to be taken somewhere, to be lied to?

“No,”  a half-growl, half-whisper, without breaking eye contact with this supposed-Damien “Stop the car.  I want some air--I want some space.”  If they allowed it, she could run.  If not, she would reach over him and open the door herself--moving car or not.

[Harlequin]

Nadia's mouth pressed itself into a hard line as her sire tore her hands from her grasp and leaned over Damien, "Please, Odessa, don't leave me." For the first time, her sadness bled into her voice, just barely, "Not now that I've just gotten you back."

Couldn't her mother see she was needed? She was missed?

A quick glance out the windshield showed that they were black away from their destination. Time to move soon. She'd hoped it wouldn't have to get physical, but Sonya was giving them no choice.

[The Cedar Witch]

Turning back to Nadia, she took her hand and squeezed it.  Of course she wouldn’t be leaving Nadia, not with these two.  Pierre would have stopped the car when she asked--Damien would have made sure of that.  Something was not right.  These men were not who they claimed to be.  Somehow Nadia was under their spell--otherwise why would she have gone along with this?  What had happened?  How had she come to be in the car in the first place? Attempting to piece together fragments of the evening’s events wrought no clarity.  Where had all this started?  Where were they coming from?

Blistering headache preventing her from speaking mentally, she addressed Nadia in a whisper of old Italian, expecting no one else to understand.

“Where are we going? I don’t trust these men.” 

The second the car stopped, she was grabbing her fledge and running.

[ continued here ]