As soon as he saw her walking along the street in his direction, he recognised her. Ben couldn't place where from and he stared at her, knowing from her clothing that she didn't belong here. Even wearing jeans (too crisp) and a button-down shirt (too tailored) with sneakers (too new and clean) was enough to let the locals know that he wasn't from the quarter. He knew about living paycheck to paycheck and he'd been too proud to accept Kerr's money even though he'd become his sire. He remembered it but he'd lost touch with it; he wanted for nothing, now. Money was just a convenience, now. He no longer had opinions about spending it.
She'd held his gaze during the walk that brought them together. He knew she was going to slow when they came within speaking distance and very naturally they both stopped facing one another, as though they'd agreed to meet here, in the middle of this nondescript street. She addressed him by name and then put him out of his misery by stating that they hadn't been introduced. Okay, so he hadn't forgotten her name. Good job. He reached out to shake her hand, wavering ever so slightly when she completed her statement
what the fuck is a saltigue?
will have to google that later
keeper for the central she said
so she's one of Jake's
and he finally remembered where he'd seen her before. The trial. He gripped her hand with careful strength and shook it, thinking that her hand had lovely, long elegant fingers, before he pocketed his hands away, so that he wouldn't fidget when speaking to her. He was immediately on guard because she was one of Jake's people, and high up in the ranks too, if she was a Keeper. Again, Ben was reminded that Jake McCloud was not a true Anarch. He might've stopped calling himself the Black Prince, but he was still surrounding himself with the Camarilla setup. Keeper. Sheriff. Harpy.
A light went on in his head and the shock raced through his body, electrifying it. He wouldn't be able to hide that something had happened while Maria was staring at him. The physical reaction had been too obvious; it was like he'd been zapped by something.
"Excuse me, sorry. Um, Maria, yes, I remember you from the trial," he said, speaking softly because he always did when bringing up the trial. Even so, the burning hatred he had for Lazarus was muted now. So much had happened since then. How long ago had it been? Immortality was going to be crazy if a few months could feel like this. "What brings you to the Quarter?"
He suspected she was doing the same thing he was; inspecting, patrolling, taking mental notes. Maybe more than just mental, she had a bag with her. He'd just typed a few things into his phone.