The Coven: Nevermore (IC)

The time had come at last. She had felt it deep within her ancient body. Finally the wheels of fate were turning at last.

Leislotte opened her eyes, the scarlet irises gleamed in the dark rooms. She sat up water streaming down her face and shimmering in her snowy colored hair. Slowly they returned to their normal olive green. She smiled lifting her foot and resting it on the smooth black marble rim of the bathtub. She swirled the water wit her fingertips, the small whirlpool, bumping ice cubes against the tub walls. She wondered how long it would take. How long would it be before someone else noticed. How long would it be before someone else to notice, before someone else realized the new truth.

She didn't have to wait very long. She had just climbed out of the tub and was wrapping herself in a black kimono when she could hear the announcement being made over the mansions intercom system. Belle Morte was dead. The Matron of the Ravenspire coven had passed on. And so it would begin. Her plan could finally be out in motion. For the next couple of days Leislotte demonstrated her loyalty and skill as an elder member of the coven. She handled everything from organizing the cremation of Belle's funeral; a moving ceremony held in a special room of the Mansion, to taking care of alerting the Council of the Matrons death.

Now three days later she was ready to make her move. It was a Sunday and the day of the official memorial in which Belle Morte's, ashes would be released into the wind. She had made sure that the event was very tastefully arranged and as elegant as elegant as possible. That is how Belle would have wanted it. Holding the urn containing the ashes if their fallen Matron, she walked up the platform towards the edge of the manors turreted roof. She was dressed in a black gown that vaguely resembled a furisode that a Japanese princess would wear. Her hair fell in a fountain if curls from a simple up do, framing her face as well. Bows shaped like light blue and black butterflies dotted her hair. Her lean legs flashed wit each step, showing through the slit of her skirt. Her 6 inch black pumps clacked quietly on the flagstones. Reaching he top of the platform she opened the urn. Tilting it into the winds she poured away the ashes. As the grey particles billowed into the air a flock of ravens swirled into the air.

She turned around slowly still holding the urn. "As of today... I will be taking over the position of Matron of the Ravenspire Coven Under my hands we will show this world who it's true masters are..." she said. Her voice was soft, toned with her strange accent. But they were cool and assured. And she got the effect she wanted. Silence.

(Link to the OOC Thread: http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=957602)

Sunset

Nathaniel loved the library, after closing. The quietness, and neatness of the stacks suited him. His worker bees would be finishing up restocking the shelves, putting everything in its proper place. They would each come to him, asking if they could leave, and then he would be alone; alone with his perfect little corner of the universe.

If there was one thing that Nathaniel liked, other than quiet, and order, it was to leave the library, his library, just before sundown, so he could watch the sunset over the City of New Orleans. It did not often happen, since the library stayed open late, but when events coincided and he found himself walking out onto an orange sky, he was truly happy.

Tonight was one of those nights. He walked the streets of New Orleans, more aware of the play of lights over the tops of buildings, than the dangerous nature of his neighborhood. So far, he had been lucky, and not been mugged. Word around the neighborhood was that he was doing some good for the community. Maybe that was why he was left alone.

He passed a restaurant with a live band playing outside. Tables of people were ordering drinks under the sunset, getting plastered or simply enough to loosen their inhibitions. He stopped for a moment, thinking his parents would not approve of the band, nor the young people dancing in front of the stage. In his university days he might have been one of those young people, upon occasion, but now he was a professional on his way home after a good days work. He tipped his tan cap to them and continued on.

As he neared his old Victorian home, miraculously still standing after the last hurricane, the sun had finally set and the moon was rising. It was an unusually big and full moon he thought, suitable for serenading a lover by, or for night fishing. He paused at the gate to the fence surrounding his property. For some reason, the back of his neck itched. He looked around, but did not see anything but shadows, so continued down his walkway.

Emma had been waiting for hours. This certainly would not be an easy kill. He was experienced, strong, and old. He'd probably faced other hunters before, and most likely had killed them. But she was a talented girl, trained by the best with a sharp mind and quick reflexes. She was born for this job.

She'd done her research and consulted her "associates", and knew a bit about the vampire who had recently arrived in New Orleans. Xavier, turned as a Viking and recently residing in Europe. But he'd come here to America, and she could not help but wonder why.

Emma was young and pretty, and her small stature was deceptive to those who saw her. To most attackers she seemed like an easy target, too weak to fight back. But her training and strength always overcame them. Yet, these were usually young vampires, recently turned and still learning how to fight. Some didn't even know what a slayer was.

From the alley she saw a man walking nearby. He was several years older than herself and attractive to say the least. Figuring the vampire wasn't leaving any time soon, she followed him, not entirely sure why. There was something about him that she found curious, but she couldn't pinpoint the reason.

As he walked towards his home she stood by his gate. "Good evening. It's a bit late for a walk in the moonlight, don't you think." When she saw his face, she finally recognized him. That librarian she always ran into while doing her research among the mazes of bookshelves. She'd never spoken to him, but they'd made eye contact on occasion.

Sunset

Lieslotte sat behind her the large mahogany desk in the office adjacent to her new bedroom. Both the office an the room had once belonged to Bell Morte and now that she had ascended to leader of the Coven they belonged to her. Following her announcement the clan had been on the verge of an uproar, much as she had expected. The vampires of Ravenspire had grown soft and complacent over the years, becoming accustomed to Belle's policy of co-existance. Folding her fingers together she rested her chin on the bridge they had formed. There would be much work to do. Both inside the coven and out. And it would begin tonight.

She knew that there would be no immediate attempt from any member of the coven. Her ascension had been approved by the Sanguinarium, the vampire counsel. But the will of the council had no influence over humans. That she would have to secure herself. It was something she had experience with as over the past couple of years she had carefully and ruthless taken over New Orleans' underworld, and many unsavory business that occurred in the French Quater did so with her approval and control. But that would be be enough. She would need help from her kind and perhaps she had found it.

She once again read over the letter that had come to her desk moments before to announce the arrival of a new vampire who would be visiting the French Quater. At first she had been uneasy with the news but upon finding out that the vampire was near to her in age she began to be a bit more pleased. Of he could be swaye to her cause then perhaps things would go a bit more smoothly. Folding the letter she returns it to her desk. She rose slowly and began to exit the office.

She was dressed simply, but in the elegant manner that always suited her. Her outfit for the night consisted of a black mandarin collared shirt with a heart cut out at the chest, paired with a long black skirt with a slit up the right thigh. Her hair hung freely around her shoulders. As she entered the hallway her steel boots clicked quietly on the marble floor. Reaching out with her mind she called out to the few members of the coven with the capacity to hear her.

"Tonight we hunt..."

Nathaniel recognized the woman as one who frequented his library. She certainly was attractive, if a bit young. He smiled at her. "Indeed, I do believe I could ask you the same question miss." He certainly did remember her. She was the strange beauty who was always checking out the oddest assortment of books on history and the occult. He had her pegged as a bit of a odd duck, though not an ugly duckling at all.

"I am Nathaniel. It is nice to finally meet you. I remember you from the library." He did not offer his hand, because he did not want to receive unbidden images from her past. He almost never offered his hand, unless he was wearing gloves. It wasn't a fashion statement that he could easily pull off in hot New Orleans.

"What may I ask brings you out on this moonlight night? Surely you don't have an overdue library book you are just dying to return?"

The moon was rising higher. It illuminated his house, wither single gable and rounded porch. Nathaniel always referred to his house as a she, due to the female ghost he was sure haunted her. In his mind the ghost and the house were as one.

"Kassidy, get up."


Nothing stirred under the mountain of deep blue blankets. A well placed kick caused a groan to come from the pile as a glass bottle rolled off the mattress and clinked to the floor. The blankets moved again and this time the disheveled head of Kassidy emerged.

Her blonde hair stuck out every which way and it was very obvious she was hungover. Her makeup was smeared and she sighed. "Get 'im outta here..." she nodded towards the unmoving pile beside her as she stood. Her stark pale skin could have glowed in the dark, and though her guard was a human, he'd grown used to her nakedness in his short time under employ of the coven.

He'd also gotten used to getting rid of dead bodies. He got paid enough not to care, just do as he was told.

Kassidy groaned as she picked around the messy room to find something to wear out of the upscale hotel room. When she finally found her flashing phone, and panties, she groaned again.

"She's dead, Saul." She cursed softly as she hopped around on one heeled foot.

"I know, that message is three days old... C'mon. Car's waitin."


Kassidy cleaned herself up and was at the funeral, a black, curve hugging dress adorning her as well as a pair of dark sunglasses. The announcement shocked many, but Kassidy had known for sometime. She had known the event would happen, but she had no idea Belle would be passing away. A slight smirk had come to her lips when Leislotte spoke of their new destiny, so to speak.


Kassidy had been in her bed, this time alone, when the command of a hunt came into her thoughts. Her smile widened as she pulled on her leather duster and headed onto into the night. She never wore anything fancy on a hunt, Kassidy knew she was a messy eater.

The plane landed at midnight. Never unusual as many people took the red eye. But this was a private plane, not a commercial. It was rare for a private plane to make it in this late. It had been settled on the ground for quite awhile before there was actual movement. A large crate was removed from the cargo hold. it was quickly brought through customers and taken to an unknown destination.

Finally the door of the plane opened. The man who strode out was dressed in a suit. There was no denying his class and culture, but anyone who had the eye for detail, might also notice his militaristic walk, or the fact that he was carrying a weapon.

He snapped his fingers and an underling ran up to greet him. The underling blathered for a few minutes and the man simply looked at him and nodded. "I missed it? That is too bad." But really, he didn't care all that much. He had much to do and little time. He opened up a folder, glancing at the picture on the top. "Leislotte, such a fetching girl. I do hope I don't need to kill her first." He looks to the underling. "Get the car."

The town car that pulls up is quite an asset. Looking at it, one think, wealth. Looking closer and if you knew what to look for and you would also say bulletproof. "Take me to her."

OOC> If you'd like to have my character arrive, feel free

It was after midnight and Lieslotte had just returned to the manor along with a few of the other coven members who had participated in tonight's hunt. It had been a thrilling experience as was indicated by her appearace. Streaks of blood mares her hands and the exposed skin of her chest. Just the sight and smell of it brought back the adrenaline rush she had experienced. There was simply nothing like the animalistic rush of the hunt. And the one that night had been particularly satisfying.

She had taken those who were willing to participate to one of the more rundown areas of the Quarter. What a sight they had made as they hunted down human prey. Old or young, alone or with family. They were all indiscriminately slaughtered. To some it would appear to be a senseless massacre, a random act of violence. But to those who knew, to those who mattered, it would be a sign. She had ensured that. Come morning the news would begin to spread, the vampires of Ravenspire no longer payed by mans rules. Any human who did not fall in line was fair game.

She smiled to herself licking her fangs once more. She waved dismissing the others as she headed for her bedroom. As was customary she had one of the maids bras her a bath, only cold water with ice as well. As it was being prepared she went to her room, wiping the blood of with a moist rose scented towellete. She changed out of her clothes, tossing the blood soiled articles into a bin on the far side of the room. Grabbing her kimono she pulled it on and prepared to go take her bath. As she did so a knock came on her door.

"Enter..." she called with an exasperated tone.
"Matron... Their is a visitor here for you..." said a timid maid as she opened the door though she refused to enter.
"They can wait... I haven't had my bath yet..." she said waving dismissively.
"It's the visiting vampire..." the maid said softly.

Lieslotte shot a sharp glance at the maid, watching the small woman as she jumped. A small smile formed on her face. She brushed past the woman, grabbing her towel as she did so. She entered the hall and headed to the bathroom. As she opened the door I the bathroom she turned to address the maid one final time.

"Send him to me... Immediately..." she said as she passed through the door shutting it behind her.

The bathroom was dark except for the flickering golden glow of the rose and pomegranate scented candles that sat around the tub. Leislotte slid out of her robe, dropping it on the dark red tiles of the floor. She stepped into the large black marble tub, sinking into the frigid water til only her face was exposed. She grabbed her pack of clove cigarettes on the edge of the tub she shook one into her hand lighting it on the candle. Putting it to her lips she took a drag and settled in to wait.

Emma wore a flowing knee length skirt, tights, boots, and a leather jacket. It was a little chilly outside, but she didn't mind at all. She slowly walked towards him, her hips swaying a little as she walked. "Indeed, I do believe I could ask you the same question miss."

"I am Nathaniel. It is nice to finally meet you. I remember you from the library."

"Emma," she held out her hand. If he took it he would see images of sharp toothed men and women, her fighting and killing, vampires moving at impossible speeds, and an image of her all alone, crying for some unseen reason.

"What may I ask brings you out on this moonlight night? Surely you don't have an overdue library book you are just dying to return?"

"I like the night. It's quiet and there's always time to think by yourself." She gave him a flirtatious smile as she stood in front of him, cocking her head to the side. "So, what about you? You know it's kind of dangerous in New Orleans at night?" She grinned, looking up into his eyes.

Nathaniel had on khaki pants and a white button down shirt with a tan tie and a gray sweater vest. His tan loafers looked new. Despite the felines who occupied his house, there was not a spec of cast hair on him. He carried a worn brown leather briefcase. Like a true gentleman, he remove his cap as he talked to the young lady.

"You are right. You could be a mugger, or worse." He looked alarmed for a moment before returning her smile and slowly taking her hand. Her hand was warm and had strange callouses. He did not have time to think about this though, as images flooded his mind. The images made no sense. Vampires were not real, though she had seen them and fought them. Was she insane our a drug user? She did not come across as either. Next he saw her crying and his heart went out to her.

He released her hand suddenly, breaking the link, though the crying remained in his head. He mentally shook himself. I like the night because it hides the yeah, the squalor, the graffiti and the imperfections. Everything is more beautiful by moonlight. As he gazed into her dark brown eyes, reflecting the glow of the moon, he believed what he was saying.

Rarely men, even in the south, took off their hats when speaking to a woman. It was a little old-fashioned in her opinion, but the gesture was sweet and she appreciated it. Her history with men typically did not end well, and the relationships were never very healthy. But he seemed different from most she knew. She felt like she could instantly trust him.

"You are right. You could be a mugger, or worse."

Emma laughed softly, squeezing his hand gently. His hand was soft and gentle to her, and she was a little embarassed by the roughness of her own. Her eyes looked old and too sad for her own age, like she'd seen more than anyone should when so young. The violence and death she'd been introduced to so early on left invisible scars on her heart and mind left from a past she wished could be unwritten.

"I like the night because it hides the yeah, the squalor, the graffiti and the imperfections. Everything is more beautiful by moonlight."

His words made her smile. Something other than the usual fake one she gave to get through the day, before she thrusted all of her anger and misery into a vampire's heart at night. She agreed with his words a great deal, and the night brought a peace she couldn't find among the noise of the day. "Including you," she whispered in his ear, grinning up at him. She didn't usually flirt. She didn't have the time and none of her relationships ended well. But maybe she could make a friend. Maybe this time it would end without someone getting hurt. She hoped.

Nathaniel was taken aback by her outrageous flirting, but he found her attractive and a bit mysterious. There was something odd about her, from her anachronistic dress, to her apparent interest in the occult, to her memories of fighting creatures which could not possibly exist. He could not help but feel that she had been put in his path for a reason.

Whatever the case, he decided to go along with her flirting, if only to try and figure her out. A real relationship was out of the question though. He had quickly learned that having a physical relationship told him more about a person than they wished to share. Her had learned of Jenny's abuse at the hand of her uncle, and freaked her out when he revealed his knowledge. No, physical relationships were too dangerous, because who wanted a boyfriend who could tell when you had lied to him and knew your every secret.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "That is just what I was thinking about you." He backed up again. "Well Emma, would you care for a cup of tea? I have Darjeeling or plain old Red Rose."

Emma closed her eyes as he leaned towards her and whispered into her ear, inhaling sharply. He was so close they were almost touching each other. God he was attractive, andn apparently he saw her the same way. "That is just what I was thinking about you." Emma wasn't exactly a shy girl, but that did make her blush. His voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine.

"Well Emma, would you care for a cup of tea? I have Darjeeling or plain old Red Rose."

"Red Rose sounds wonderful," she smiled following him inside. She hadn't expected the invitation, and she was curious why he would invite someone like her into his house. Emma sat close to him on his sofa, sipping the tea as she smiled up at him.

"So, a librarian? What made you want that job?" She was honestly curious, unlike some people who didn't think being a librarian was much. She loved reading, and the library had become like a sanctuary to her. She'd spend days in there, whether researching or simply enjoying a good story.

"It might sound strange, but I like the order of the library. Everything has a place and everything is usually in its place. I know that I should tell you that I am a great lover of books, which of course I am, and that is why I am a librarian, but no. It's the quiet and the order. It is the one little place in this universe where I can get everything to go just as I like it.... most of the time." He took a sip of his own tea, though his was lemon zinger. He did not need the caffeine at this hour.

If his house was any indication, it was another haven for his love of order and quiet. There were neat dark throw rugs, aligned just so, antique lamps with tasseled lampshades and an almost feminine feel to the house, if the colors had not been so dark. Everything was vintage Victorian, or at least made to look so. The only thing out of place was the fat tabby cat who had crawled on top of Emma's feet and fallen asleep.

"And what do you do Emma?" Are you a hunter? He thought, worried that she would speak her delusions out loud. He found himself liking her and her company, and did not wish to know if she was truly crazy.

Xavier to the bath

He finally gains entrance. He had kept time in his head of how long it took before he was admitted. He was pleasantly surprised at the time. As the servant came to escort him to the room, he took survey of the house. One part admiring the decor, but one part, how to infiltrate the house should the need arise.

He was surprised when they went upstairs, passing by the foyer. That would've been one of the logical places to have met him. As they continued past rooms and entered a bedroom, Xavier paused but only briefly. It was only a bedroom, and did not smell of any kind of a trap. But again, they did not stop there as he was led into the bathroom and he finally got to see his Hostess.

He got to see more and yet less of his hostess than he figured most people had. As he looked at her in the tub, his eyes scanned the tub, before he returned to look into her eyes. "Lieslotte it is so kind of you to see me at this time. My condolences on the loss of your Matriarch. Such a loss can destabilize even the strongest of foundations. When I heard about it, I decided i should come here as quickly as possible, to make sure nothing bad happened. Too much death might prove to be an issue."

He looks at her intently, "And we wouldn't want their to be issues, would we?"

Lieslotte had been relaxing in the tub when she heard the door to her room open and the sound of footsteps approaching the door that led into her bathroom. As the door opened she exhaled a plume of smoke. Her vision was sharp so the lack of lighting did not hamper her ability to see the male as he entered. She was aware of his gaze as he analyzed her. She was found the same, her intense gaze sweeping him from top to bottom. She had not been ill informed. He was indeed old, she could sense it in his mannerisms. There was a distinct difference in the behaviors of vampires of her time and the new younger breed. Perhaps it could be blamed on the times. In her day skills like observation, tactical thinking, and most importantly the ability to mask ones intentions were common place.

As he spoke to her she continued to smoke. Draping he arm over the edge of the tub she flicked the ash from the cigarette into the lotus shaped ashtray she had placed within reach. As he spoke of the loss of their Matron and the destabilization such a loss could bring she watched his face intently. I all of her years she had grown to be quite an expert at reading voices and tones and she could clearly detect the warning in his. Still she was not one to back down. Lifting the cigarette to her lips once more she inhaled deeply. Holding in the smoke for a moment she let silence hang between them. Then she exhaled slowly.

"Allow me to formally welcome you to the Ravenspire manor as well as thank you for your condolences..." she said with a small smile, "It has been quite a long time since one of our number has died and it is truly lamentable that it was our Matron who fell prey to its grasp... But Death comes to call for everyone...our kind included..."

She held his gaze, her face never changing from a cool yet amiable expression. She sat up slightly, sweeping her hair from the water. She took another puff of her cigarette and exhaled softly. She seemed to think for a moment George she spoke again.

"As for to much death being a bad thing... I can not say I agree or disagree with you entirely... It is my belief that I order to attain ones goals it is necessary to make certain sacrifices... Belle has kept this Coven together and functioning for years, and for that I respect her... However I am not her... I wish for more than mere survival... It is my intention that this coven thrive... And if some sacrifice is necessary to attain that goal... Then I am more than willing to dirty my hands..."

"No, I understand what you mean. Sometimes life feels so chaotic, it's nice to have something quiet and peaceful. That's sometimes why I come there too, to get away from it all, escape. Books are a wonderful way to do that, with the shelves all lined neatly around you and the quietness. It's one of the few places in this city that isn't full of people."

Emma grinned as a cat sat on her feet, and she reached down to pet it. "Aren't you a pretty thing. What's its name?" She stroked the cat, smiling as it purred. This was unusual for her to be acting so sweet and smiling. Most often, she was grim and always looked as if someone had died. But at the moment, her thoughts were not on her night job, but just the moment she was having with him. "Your home is very beautiful.

"And what do you do Emma?"

"I'm a writer," she smiled. It wasn't a lie, for she often wrote stories to help her escape from the gruesome life she led. The happy endings, even if bittersweet overall, made her feel better. It was something she couldn't have, but it gave her a little taste of a normal life. She touched his hand with a smile and her memories flashed in his head.


An old man was lying on the floor, cold and stiff, with two bite marks on his neck. The room he was in looked as if there had been some sort of robbery, things thrown everywhere. Near his body was a wooden stake. Emma opened the front door to the quiet house, carrying groceries that almost didn't fit in her arms.

"I was thinking we could have some lasagna tonight and green beans. I made some dessert earlier, and I think you're going to love it." Emma entered the kitchen, nearing the body and began unpacking. "You wouldn't believe how crowded it was. This one women kept trying to decide between two different ice cream brands, exact same flavor and size, for ten whole minutes at the register, and then bought both of them." Emma waited for a response. Ralph was usually home before dark, and he always was there to greet her.

"Ralph, are you there?" She opened the door to the living room, smiling until the sight made her stop in her tracks. For a few seconds she didn't move, simply staring. "No, oh please god no..." She slowly walked to him, kneeling by his side as she stared down at his neck. The old man was dead, gone forever. "NO!" She held him to her chest and sobbed, clutching his corpse as she wept. "Ralph, don't you dare leave me. PLEASE!"

This was all her fault. She must have been followed home at some point. They killed him while she was gone. How could she have been so stupid? He was old, unable to put up a fight, and those monsters killed him in cold blood. "Please don't leave me alone," she whispered softly.


Emma stood up abruptly, staring at him in shock, placing the tea down. The memory was so strong, she'd seen it herself. Her jaw clenched tightly and her hand moved to her purse. "Who the hell are you?" Her voice was quiet, almost a hiss. She didn't yell. She didn't scream. But there was an anger in her eyes that one would have to be blind not to see. "What the hell did you just do!"

Nathaniel was suddenly on his feet. He reached down for his cat, who had been startled awake, and tucked her into his arms, keeping her between him and the girl. "What the hell did I just do? What did you do? I'm an empath. Things just come to me." He told a bit of a lie. "Sometimes things come to me, when I touch people. Usually I have to really hold their hands, not just touch them." The fact was, it did not take much of a touch. It had lead to a painful childhood, and his father's fists would bring back memories of his own father being beaten by his father. It had kept his from truly hating the man, but he had seen how it could be passed down from father, to son, and determined to be a different sort of man.

"How did you see the vision too? That has never, ever happened before? And what the Hell? They are real, aren't they? Vampires? They have to be, because I could sense if you were crazy, and your not." He sat down heavily on the couch, tired beyond belief.

"Look, I am sorry that this happened to you." He stroked his cat absent mindedly. "I mean I am sorry for seeing what I saw, but if I could control it I would. There is no way to shut if off. It's hard to explain. It has never, ever gone the other way though, I swear it!"

He felt miserable. He had started to like the girl. It was like Jenny all over again, only this time it had happened from a mere brush of skin, rather than from making love. This time things were over before they had even started. And vampires. Mother fucking, blood sucking vampires were real!

"What the hell did I just do? What did you do? I'm an empath. Things just come to me." Emma glared at him, pulling a stake from her purse, moving into a fighting stance. Her face had hardened, and her eyes glared at him. The small amount of trust she had for him evaporated. "Sometimes things come to me, when I touch people. Usually I have to really hold their hands, not just touch them."

She stepped back, keeping the stake up. Despite being an experienced fighter, there seemed to be a look of desperation and even fear on her face. She was scared of him and what he could do. "What did you see when you shook my hand then? What do you know about me?"

"How did you see the vision too? That has never, ever happened before? And what the Hell? They are real, aren't they? Vampires? They have to be, because I could sense if you were crazy, and your not."

Emma watched as he sat down, unsure what to do about him. He didn't seem to know much, but he could be acting. She'd seen vampires who could easily fake being human. Hell, even she could act; pretending to be happy when the pain is killing you inside was something she'd practiced her whole life.

"Look, I am sorry that this happened to you. I mean I am sorry for seeing what I saw, but if I could control it I would. There is no way to shut if off. It's hard to explain. It has never, ever gone the other way though, I swear it!"

"And why should I trust you? Do you know how many people I've seen killed because... because of people like you? Psychics? I've seen people lose their minds because they were shown things that they really should not have seen. There are other people who can control it, so why can't you?"

She turned away from him, her arm on the wall with her forehead resting on it. Emma dropped the stake, her body trembling as tears ran down her cheeks. That memory was one of the most painful she'd had. Of all the things she'd lost, wanted to forget, that was the worst.

After a minute, she grabbed the stake and put it in her purse, unable to look at him. "I'll go. You won't have to see me again and I won't bother you any more. I shouldn't have even come here, bringing all my shit into your life." She exhaled sharply before walking towards the door, glancing back with him only with her eyes, not her head. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this."

All of you shit? What about my shit?

Nathaniel felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He was reminded again of all the things he would never have. He would never had a child call him dad, or a bride. He would never have a family movie night, or cuddle on the couch with his lover. It just wasn't possible. The damned empathetic abilities had taken care of that.

He had hardly noticed when she went into her Buffy the Vampire Slayer stances. Right about then, he probably would have let her stake him. It hardly mattered that vampires existed, and that she was some sort of slayer. Nothing really mattered. He was going to be alone for the remainder of his life. That was the real reason he was the head librarian, and ordered his universe to such a degree. He had routines and procedures, so he could keep going, and to help him forget how empty and pointless life really was. It was a times like this he though his father had been right. Maybe he should just end it all.

Still, he felt for Emma. She had her secrets too. What kind of normal life could she possibly have? They were both doomed to be alone, and they probably deserved better, but what the fuck... God had other ideas for them, like giving him a fucking gift, and giving her a dead old man she loved. Sometimes he really hated the Almighty.

Unbidden, a tear went down his cheek and he nodded. "O.K., be careful out there. And by the way, the cat's name is Embla."

"Functional? Surviving? Do you even understand those words? The Coven here did more than just survive, it lived, it existed." He took a deep breath, as she was slightly shocked by her words. "You cannot simply kill people to send a message." He pauses, "Well you can, but you need to send the right message."

He hoped she hasn't done anything stupid yet. Stupid mistakes are always more difficult to correct. He watches as she blows smoke into the air, wondering if that is a metaphor for her life or not. "Dirtying your hands is always more than simply killing someone, it can mean so much more than that."

"Is that the reason for your bath? Did you get your hands dirty?" He pondered simply killing her now. It would be shame, but it might be easier.

"I am not bathing because my hands are dirty... I am bathing because it soothes me... Ice water is so wonderful... The chill, the darkness... All of it whispers to me... Reminds me of what I have done..." she said with a faint smile. She ground her cigarette out in the ashtray. She watched the final wisp of smoke, curling into the air spreading the faint scent of cloves. The cherry left flickered and died long before the smell of the smoke faded. She stared at the last flickering ember before closing her eyes. The flames of the candles flickered slightly. When she reopened her eyes they were a bright scarlet.

"Please do not come into my home, my coven, and try to impress upon me your methods or your morals... This coven was about as alive as we are... For years out coven has lived in shadow, pandering to the whims and fears of human kind... And what type of life is that to live... When did the hunter become as cowardly as the prey...?" she said with a harsh humorless laugh, "I will tell you simply since you are by no means a fool... I am going to lead this coven back to greatness... We will attain the power our kind deserves... We will rule this place... And anyone who stands in my way will die... Human or Vampire..."

She spoke softly but the chill to her voice assured him of her seriousness. She slid another cigarette from the pack, lighting it before taking a deep drag. The whole time. She slowly exhaled tilting her head slightly to one side. She smiled softly but there was no hint of kindness in it.

"And before you get it in your head that you will simply kill me here and now... Erase it from your head... The moment you stepped foot in here you entered my territory... Do not cross me... I hate to harm one of my kind... But if you insist on opposing me I will show you the true beauty of the cold..."

She saw the tear in her periphial vision, and the guilt hit her like she'd been punched in the gut. That same kind of pain she felt when her uncle had been murdered. It was her fault he was hurt. She shouldn't have come inside. Nothing good ever happened to people who knew her. There was a reason she didn't talk to people.

"O.K., be careful out there. And by the way, the cat's name is Embla."

Emma paused as she reached for the door, almost turning around to apologize and talk to him more. To find out who he was and what he was like. But she couldn't hurt him again. She couldn't put his life in danger when he barely even knew her. It was better to end it fast and cut their ties like a knife. He'd be happier and safer in the long run.

She opened the door and shut it behind her, leaning back against it as she cried. Her entire body was shaking and she was damn near sobbing. It was starting to rain as Emma walked away from the house, resisting the urge to look back. A person who might actually understand what she was going through. Someone she could finally talk to about it, because he had supernatural shit surrounding him too.

But she didn't want him dead either, so she refused to turn back and run to him.

Nathaniel watched her go, with an empty heart. He was sure she was right and he would never see her again. The tears came slowly, as he simply stood stiffly still. The tabby cat started protest and jumped from his arms. He had barely registered her memory of chasing a mouse that morning and promised hisself to buy mouse traps.

He never felt the same memory twice and so his cats' memories were always fresh to him.The cats understood his ability and used it to manipulate him. That was what had been sad about his father. Dad had an endless supply if abusive memories to draw on.

He felt like Rogue from the Xmen at times, curse never to touch another, but without the special powers. He identified with the character and so stocked the comics in his library. When the kids were not reading them, he did.

As his tears dried up, he collected himself and wiped his face nearly with tissue paper. He went to the front window, hoping for a glance of seems walking away, but she must have vanished into the night which had born her. With sigh he turned to go to bed. his stomach was too upset for dinner. That is when he was sure he hear someone crying.

He looked around. His resident ghost did that sometimes, but this sounded different.

Emma sat in the alley next to his house, her head in her hands, crying softly to the night. She'd tried to keep herself from thinking about that night for years, and she'd succeeded until he touched her. Her body was shaking as she sobbed, trying to keep herself quiet.

She didn't realize how close she was to his bedroom. True, she didn't stay in the house, but she longed to be close to him. It was the first emotional connection she'd had with someone in years. She missed being around people, and most of her days and nights were spent in solitude. The library was the closest thing to socializing she'd had.

The old man had been there to make sure she wasn't alone all the time. He knew from experience that constant slaying and searching for revenge took its toll. Sometimes it was gradual, but for others like her, it was sudden and unexpected. She was strong, mentally and physically, but this was too much for her to handle by herself. She wanted to be with someone who could understand her, knew all her secrets. But she couldn't do that without endangering them.