The Last Midnight(PM to join)

Victor Dupont's family had been cursed for generations. So many, in fact, that the curse dated back to the mid 1800s. It was a well kept secret, however, and the four brothers went about their unusually long lives in style and class.

Their long lives were not the only things the young men were cursed with, however. A driving need for life, for that which makes us alive overwhelms them and can drive them to near madness if they don't sate their thirsts. The thirst... for blood. An extreme aversion to the sun also plagues them, and their skin remains milky and pale thanks to decades upon decades of living a night-life.

The final part of the curse that plagues them is one that, if not solved, will ultimately result in their destruction. By the stroke of midnight on the 5th of December in the year 2010, when the moon hangs in time above the world, the eldest of the Dupont family must take a woman for a bride.

But she can't be just any woman... The woman that must be taken for a bride must bear the mark of the crescent moon upon her person, and must be a mortal woman with the blood of immortals coursing through her veins from birth. Only her blood would see to it that the curse didn't end their existence.

*~*~*~*

Maeve had never been a normal girl, that was for certain. Her mother had died during child birth, and with no living relatives, the newborn girl was sent to an orphanage to be cared for. With so many families desperate for a baby, it was not a surprise when the unusually lovely baby was adopted shortly after she reached the orphanage.

Taken in by a kind young couple who'd been pronounced barren when they were still in their early twenties, the girl was raised with love and care. Strange things had always surrounded the baby, however, and shortly after bringing her home, odd occurances began to surround the new family.

Shortly after they were given their newborn baby, Lilly noticed that it seemed as if she were being followed... stalked by strange people. Wherever she and the baby went, there were odd sorts of people, always watching her. Despite this, however, it was rarely the same person. Men and women both, always watching her and the baby, but never approaching and never threatening.

Lilly and Clark decided it would be best to move, and Clark put in for a transfer at work. In less than two weeks, the family had moved across the country, relocating from sunny L.A. to a small town in Louisiana. For years the family lived without being bothered, and had only to deal with unusual things that happened around their daughter, who was blossoming into a beautiful child.

Thing would go missing for days, then show up out of the blue one day in the oddest places, like their pockets when they couldn't remember putting them there. Animals seemed to have an unusual liking for the child, and there were times she'd be taken out to play at the park and within moments, every animal in the neighborhood would be around her, while she giggled and ran around with them.

On the eve of the day when they would celebrate her adoption day, when the girl was 12, there was a terrible fire. Lilly and Maeve barely made it out in tme and stood holding each other and crying as they watched their home and the Clark with it, burn to the ground. Both of them were taken to the hospital, as they should have been suffering from severe smoke inhalation.

Lilly was weak and sick, but Maeve seemed in perfect health. She'd never been a sickly child, and even the most serious of childhood illnesses had seemed unable to effect her. Two days later Maeve stood by her adopted mother's bedside, watching as she faded off, her last words a softly spoken, "You were always my daughter, I love you."

As silent sears slid down the girl's cheeks, Maeve stood there and knew deep down that there was something wrong with her. She wasn't normal... she couldn't be. No one should have been able to survive what she did, especially not a kid. The doctors all marveled at her health, how she seemed so unaffected by the fire and smoke, but she just brushed them off.

For 6 years she was silent, and even after she finally began to speak again on the anniversary of her mother's death she was unusually quiet.

She lived in a foster home, quiet and withdrawn despite all that was happening around her. She attended school only because she had to, and her grades were a shining example of what they should have been. Straight A's never seemed to take effort for her, and with her high GPA, the government offered many scholarships and student loans to put her through college.

With no other real choice, she began attending a community college, using the grants and checks the state gave her to pay for her tiny apartment as she studied full time and worked part time, wanting to become a writer. Despite the silence that surrounded her, the girl's written words were bursting with promise.

*~*~*~*

OOC:

This will be a thread with several dark undertones, including murder, seduction, an blackmail... all with a supernatural twist.

I'm looking for someone to play Victor Dupont, the patriarch and eldest member what's left of the Dupont family, upon who's shoulders rest the fate of his entire bloodline. There may be openings for Victor's three brothers later on, but Victor is the most important character that must be filled to begin with.

Oops, I need to wait my turn. Sorry.

Victor Dupont ran through the latest papers his younger brother, Jarek, had obtained for him. More reports of young women who suffered fewer injuries then could have been expected given whatever tragic event caused notice. Enlisting Jarek to find the girl had proven far more beneficial then Victor could have wished for – it was his idea to track one of immortal blood through newspapers and hospital reports. Every day they found more hospitals across the world to add to their network.

He rose from his heavy leather chair, and walked around his desk to look out the window at the lights of Las Vegas below. He'd seen many cities in his unnaturally long years, but none had proven so disgusting as this one. Granted, it was exactly what disgusted him that made it their easiest home yet. Tourists, people never asked too many questions, and anything was available for a price. When you needed secrecy and fresh blood, the dark underbelly of Vegas was all too accommodating.

He let the news paper clippings and hospital reports fall from his fingers to the flutter to the ground. His dear brother believed he had found Her. The one that would save them – the last four of his cursed family.

Still, they needed to be sure, and the easiest way to do that would be to confirm she was marked by a crescent moon. It was not a task suited to any of his brothers, nor should he reveal himself to the girl until they were certain. He'd have to send his men to Louisiana. Perhaps a staged mugging would be enough to confirm if she was so marked. Whatever he did, he had to hide it from Jarek for now. That boy was too smart for his own good, and far far to compassionate for this girl that they've sought out for over two decades.

Every window in the small aircraft's passenger compartment had the shade pulled down; which wasn't necessary since it was the middle of the night, but habits win over logic. They'd be landing at the Baton Rouge airport shortly, and he could begin his search ahead of his brother, who no doubt would have sent out his 'goons' by now.

This girl was too important to them all to risk in some heavy handed tactic, should she prove to be the one. First impressions never went away, so Jarek knew this couldn't be screwed up; despite what Victor thought. Victor always thought in cold ways. Who couldn't be convinced could be forced. Who couldn't be forced could be broken, and he was treating this like any other scheme he'd hatched over the years. Damn him, this was their salvation at stake!

He thumbed through all the files he had on this girl, committing every detail to memory, especially the details he hadn't given to his elder brother. He'd find her first, warn off Victor's men, and deal with the situation himself. He figured the biggest trouble would be getting woman to willing stand in the same room as his dear brother, since the eldest needed to be the one to wed the immortal descendant.

Maeve left her last class of the day in her usual silent manner, waiting until most had already left the room before slipping out through the door. When she saw the sky beyond the windows, however, she realized that calling it the last class of the 'day' was completely inappropriate. The sky was dark already, and that meant that technically... technically it was the class class of the evening.

Shaking her head some, she made her way out of the front doors of the class building, bag hanging from her shoulder. She had to stop in by the shop before going home, had to check and make sure the latest shipment of books had been put away. She doubted they had, of course... After all... Tim was the one on in the afternoons and evenings, and he was completely incompetent.

Making her way down the sidewalk, she glanced at her watch. It was only 6:30... the sun sure did set early in the fall. Looking at the sky, she sighed some and watched the stars glitter above. Something moved through them at a slow pace, the lights of a plane, she noted, before lowering her eyes back to look ahead of her.

Pushing into the shop, she waved as Tim clocked out and gathered his things. He was always eager to leave, and when she came in on order nights, he often got to leave early, leaving her to close the shop herself. A silent sigh left her lips as she watched him go, then turned and walked into the back room.

A moment later and she was clocked in, moving to look at the still full and untouched boxes full of books that needed to have stickers put on them and put out on the shelves.

Bending down, she gave a little groan as she hefted the box into her arms and struggled under its weight, carrying it out to the front of the shop, where she could mind the counter and work on organizing the things to be put out.

It was going to be a long night... which meant that the bookstore would be open later than usual.

At last the private jet landed, and declined used of the family limo in town as Victor's men greeted him. He said nothing of Victor's plan to them, and they said nothing to him. He'd not bring it up on the chance that Victor still had no idea he was in Louisianan yet. Even if that was true, it would not last long, but he'd not waist whatever he had.

Instead he issued no orders except that he was here on private matters, and was not to be followed; as he got in a cab and instructed the drivers to drive aimlessly for twenty minutes.

Once the twenty minutes was up, he told him the address of the local college. Try as the driver might to engage him in further conversation, Jarek remained silent throughout the long ride. After paying the cab enough to nearly squeal in thanks for the tip, he walked away from the cab and towards the school. It was late, so the building would be locked, but that was of little matter.

Making his way around to the side of a building, he found what he was looking for; an open window hidden from most angles by the shape of the building and the trees. Paying janitors was easy work, and eliminated many more complicated schemes his 'dear' brother might carry out.

Entering through the window, and quickly making his way to the central offices he found what he sought; the records department. With a lock picking kit he entered, likely tripping a silent alarm. Within minutes he had Maeve Thompson's file. He'd known she was a success in school, but her grades actually surprised him, not that that was what he was after. Contact information, place of residence and where she worked, however, were all nicely recorded here in case the school needed to get in touch with her. How convenient, filling in all the gaps he had on her. Committing all the data on those sheets to memory, a curse of his. Replacing the file neatly, and locking up as he left the same way he came in, the police were just beginning to show up and never saw him walk through shadows away from the scene.

Time was running out, he needed to contact her before Victor's men did whatever nefarious thing it was they were instructed to do. Guessing that Victor would try her home first, he walked toward the bookstore where she worked. College kids worked late hours to get buy, almost opposite from when he attended university. Back then it was early work on farms for extra coin, then late night studies.

“Shit.” he slammed the cell phone down onto his desk. What was his brother playing at? Arriving in the same town as the girl before even his men from New Orleans could get into place. Jarek had been the brains behind the planning, maybe he thought he could gather more information directly? There were a million possibilities, and one of those was betrayal. Granted Jarek had never shown any sign of it in the past, and had been helpful beyond measure – but he was also too weak to do all that was required. They had argued many times over what course to take with the girl once found.

Fortunately, Victor had never told Jarek the real plan with the girl – he certainly would not approve. The poor kid had too much conscious left to him despite the generations of the curse. In a way, he envied that about his closest sibling – the boy had been able to retain more humanity then the other three combined.

But a curse, their curse, was nasty business, and could be answered only with equally sinister means. The girl would be sought out, and if found having the mark, drugged and bound, and shipped back here to Vegas where they could begin taking whatever actions might be required to convince her to play her part. It was just that simple. He didn't need a sane bride to wed, then drain of blood to give to he and his brothers – just a living one with an immortal bloodline. Marrying into immortality as it would.

He picked up another phone, and instructed the whispered voice that answered to keep tabs on his brother Jarek. He hated thinking that the boy could be plotting against him, but refusing to face such a notion could be worse for everyone.

Making his way down the street, walking casually, Jarek approached the small bookstore without drawing attention to himself. A few blocks behind the police had arrived, and were investigating a breaking where nothing would be found missing, and no fingerprints that shouldn't be there would ever be found.

Finally rounding the corner, and approaching the store, he sighed, still unsure of what to say, only that he had to be the one make contact, and not his insane brother, or his goons. Pulling the door open, small bells chimed to announce a customer.

Looking around he noticed no one else in the room, and assume that she, and whatever other co-workers must be in the back. “Hello? Anyone here? I'm looking for a rare book.”

He lied, but figured it'd be a good chance to begin talking, and searching for any tell tale marks.

Maeve wasn't in the back, but she was out of sight. Sitting on the floor behind the desk, she was hidden from anyone who might enter the shop, pulling books out of the large box next to her and sorting them out, preparing them to have price stickers put on them and then be sorted. Of course... there were also the specialty orders that had come in. She had to locate and identify them, then set them aside with the customer who ordered them's information.

She'd just let out a soft sigh when she heard the bells chime to announce a customer. It was odd, having someone stop by so late on a weekday... Must be Tim... maybe he forgot something... so she didn't rise from her seat. Didn't rise, that was, until a voice that was not only distinctly male but distinctly not her coworker filtered back to her.

Setting aside the book she'd been looking at, she pulled herself to her feet and brushed off the backs of her jeans. Turning to look at the man, she smiled some, showing off even white teeth that looked like they must go through regular professional cleanings, they were so white. "Can I help you?" her voice was soft, but carried well and had a slightly melodic tone to it.

Long strawberry blond hair hung to her waist in ringlet curls, and a pair of big amber colored eyes took him in. Her face had a distinctly angelic look to it, very doll like with it's cream colored skin and full, pouty lips. Oh yes, she was definitely formed quite well to pull off a lollita look if she chose to. Her body though, while petite and fragile seeming, had all the curves a woman could ask for, without being overdone. Well toned, slender arms and shapely legs, full hips, a petite waist, and full, perky breasts.

Those almost wolfish eyes swept over her him and she bit her lip gently. He was handsome, that was for certain. And definitely not from around here. Her body was clad in a pair of low rise, hip hugger khaki pants that flared out around her calves and flip-flop clad feet, while a form-fitting black tank-top hugged to her torso, just short enough to show off the slightest bit of her flat stomach and undoubtedly, the small of her back as well if she were to turn around.

When the girl popped up from behind the counter, it took him a bit by surprise. Most people were loud with whatever task they were at, even if that was no more then sitting and breathing; but he had no idea she had been just sitting behind the counter.

He turned sharply to face the sweet voice, and knew he must have found the right girl. No marking could be seen, and he looked quickly, but who else would have the face of this creature here, but one with immortal blood in her veins?

“Well I doubt it, but it never hurts to try. You see, wherever I travel, I look for rare books; its an odd hobby of mine. It happens that fate has put me in your fair town tonight, and after many a disappointing hour in your libraries and larger book stores, I figure I'd try a small one closer to a campus of learning.”

His smile, and parts of his story, were genuine. He always did seek out rare books, though had never previously announced himself like this. But then he never had to have another excuse for being in a book store.

“Ever hear of a book typically called the Albertus Magnus? Few have any knowledge of its common name, much less the original in French.”

He moved around in a friendly manner to try and glimpse her back, and any portion of uncovered skin, just for a confirmation of what must be true; she was the one!

"Albertus Magnus?" she asked, sounding thoughtful. Stepping daintily over the piles of books she'd made behind the counter, she made her way over to a computer set into an alcove in the wall. "Wasn't he a Saint?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder as she waited for the screen saver to fall away.

Once she had, she typed in the name into a search bar on some odd program, likely one that was meant to keep track of inventories and books that could be ordered and the like. "I know he wrote a lot of stuff... mostly theology and the like... but I didn't know there was a book with that name specifically."

She typed in the name and watched the program search through it's databases, chewing on her lower lip as she let her hips sort of sway side to side, more an idle fidget than anything else. After a few more moments though, she shook her head and turned to look at him again.

"We don't have anything by that name, sorry..." she said, looking genuinely apologetic. "Maybe if you could give me a description of it, I can keep an eye out? See if maybe any of the other shops we deal with have it?"

“Actually I was referring to something slightly more recent then the Saint, and likely nothing that poor man would ever have dealt with. This would be a grimoire from the early 1700's.” He waived his hand to dismiss the issue, smiling. “It's one of those hobbies that one rarely finds much success at.”

Moving closer, he continued to seek any vantage point that might reveal the marking he sought, and was sure could be found on this woman. To play at being more charming, and warm up to conversations in topics that were odd, he drew a large gold coin, resembling an old Spanish 'piece of eight', seemingly from thin air, and rolled it over the back of his knuckles. “I've been interested in all manner of the magical and strange. From tricks to please children to items sought foolishly by powerful men, all of history's mysterious tricks amuse me.”

He leaned over the counter, and placed the coin on surface, its heavy metallic rings echoing from under his hand. But when he removed his hand, fingers wide spread and an innocent grin on his face, only a chocolate wrapped in gold foil in the shape of a coin remained.

“You seem to be well read, think your store contains anything that might interest me?”

A black Lincoln Navigator came to a stop at the corner of the street of the book store, and turned off its engine and lights. With the windows tinted, it would be nearly impossible to see that 4 men sat inside – all being sure to be still and not draw notice by making the vehicle rock.

The driver put out another cigarette, continuing to ignore the coughs and glares of the passengers. His orders came from Victor, and to Victor he reported – the rest could suffer for all he cared. He wasn't paid to care for the henchmen, only to see they did their job.

No one went in or out of the store in five minute, but then he knew they were running late and Jarek could well have beaten them here. All there was to do was watch, and follow. If it looked like Jarek was trying to hide the girl, then that meant she was the right one, and she;d be taken – as would he.

If not, then they'd take her anyway to confirm for themselves if she was the girl that Victor sought. Either way, it meant a wait.

He lit another cigarette.

Maeve whistled low under her breath as he told her what the volume was, and thus was sure they didn't have a copy of it. True they were smaller and often dealt more with specialty pieces like that, but she was fairly certain that was far more rare-and valuable-than anything they would carry.

She watched him make the coin dance over his fingers, bright amber eyes looking on with amused interest. It would be a few moments, but finally she'd speak, giggling softly at the way he'd taken a seeming metal coin and somehow made it a wrapped piece of chocolate instead.

Shoving her hands into her back pockets, she chewed on her lip and looked at the ceiling, rocking from toe to heel and back to toe again, looking thoughtful. Finally, after several long moments, she looked to him, flashing a small grin. "Actually... I think we just might." And, dancing once again around the piles of books she'd left on the floor behind the counter, made her way over to a cabinet beneath the counter itself.

Opening it, she pulled forth a black metal box with the number roller lock system, and set it down. Spinning the rollers until it gave her the combination she wanted, she opened it and pulled out a key before dancing back around the counter and toward a door along one side wall.

Her movements were graceful, footsteps silent, and despite how girlish the way she bounced around may have seemed, it seemed oddly fitting.

Unlocking the door, she disappeared into a side room for a moment before returning with a glass display case on a rolling cart. Bringing it out where he could see, she proudly stopped before him. "I'm sure a collector like yourself probably has this already... but I thought maybe you might be interested..."

Inside the case was a leather bound, obviously old, copy of Dracula. "It's an original printing, and the inside cover is signed by Stoker himself."

Jarek swallowed a groan. He had read the book, when it was first published, and groaned then at romantic portrayal of his curse. Instead he smiled, and gingerly lifted the book, as if to inspect it.

Much to his annoyance, it was real, and a very valuable book.

“It seems you know me too well already, my dear. I think I will just have to buy it. I'm sure your employer's will be thrilled that you've made such a sale.”

He glanced back at her, “Perhaps we should each celebrate, your making a great sale, and my finding such a.....significant addition to my collection. What do ya say, can I buy you a cup of coffee? I'm sure you'll need it ot stay up and study or party tonight anyway - am I right?”

Maeve smiled broadly as he chose to make the purchase. She honestly hadn't expected him to be so quick to take the offer, but she wasn't going to complain. No doubt her bosses were going to love her for the amount of money she'd be making for them. It had only been by sheer luck that they'd managed to find the book at an auction of antiques from a very old manor house in New England. The people auctioning off their things didn't realize just what the book was, and her bosses had managed to get it for a measly 30 dollars.

But of course Maeve wouldn't tell him that. She pulled out the ledger where the price desired had been noted and flipped through the pages, looking it up. Some things about the company were still very much old fashioned, and the uses of ledgers was one of those things. Once she'd found the price, she informed him what it was. It was a number most people would balk at having to pay for just a book... but as a collector, she knew he'd not be surprised. It was the genuine article, and thus worth every penny they charged for it.

At his invitation for coffee, Maeve felt a slight blush coloring her fair cheeks and bit her lower lip softly, looking down at the ledger. "I appreciate the offer sir, but I'm afraid that I still have a lot of work to finish here tonight before I can even dream about leaving.... and then its all homework until I finally pass out," she said with a chuckle, but her eyes looked back at him, amber depths taking in his face for a long moment... perhaps longer than would be appropriate normally.

Looking away, she bit her lip and bent to pick up one of the piles of books at her feet, setting them on the counter as she made ready to get back to work, trying to ignore that unusually strong urge to take him up on his offer.

He smiled back; a smile that only widened the longer their eyes remained locked. Noticing temptation was a useful skill, though typically employed at bars to fine his next meal.

“Come now, I am sure your sale will more then make up for it, especially if you went to talk business, and retain such a high dollar client. The coffee with help you stay up to study, everyone wins.”

Its not that most people didn't lie, its only most were unpracticed, and thus if felt awkward. So he always tried to provide an excuse for them, such as retaining a client, in this case. It wasn't that all people are evil, and lie to each other, but more each must live in a world of compromise, while looking out for yourself.

“What do ya say, give your boss the contact infromation fro a collector, and gain a free cup of joe?”

Maeve stood there for a few long moments, chewing on her lower lip in an almost thoughtful seeming manner, looking down at the books on the counter in front of her. After a few more moments she finally lifted those warm amber eyes to look up at him and smiled some.

"Alright... but I have to clean these up first, ok?" she said, and was already moving, gathering books and putting them back in the box from whence they came. It was time Tim did something anyway, she reasoned, and soon she had the area cleared of the books. Her back to him, she bent at the waist, picking up the box that was now heavy and laden with the volumes with a small groan.

That was the only bad part about working in a book store... books were heavy! And instead of finding a better way to package them, they just lumped them all together in shipping boxes. She disappeared into the back room for a moment before returning out front, going to the desk to leave a note apologizing for the books not being put away, and mentioning that she managed to sell the Dracula book.

Once that was done, she grabbed her things and clocked out before meeting him back in front of the desk, pulling out her keys so she could close up as they left.

Disappointed that he still found no marking, even from the back side, meant that it would be covered up, and that made things complicated. It wouldn't be for Victor, but then he'd already rejected his brother's plan. Abducting one of immortal blood sounded like the kind of thing that got them cursed in the first place, and maybe it was. Only Victor knew what it was their family line had been punished for, and it was not something he shared.

Escorting the heavenly girl out the door, and letting her lock up; he led her down the street, and around the corner to a coffee shop. He wished back when he was in university, that caffeine was available the entire night, but his time had been different.

He ordered a Mocha, and let waitress know that Maeve's money was no good, and she should order whatever she wished. “So, what is it you are studying in school? Something to save the world one day perhaps?” Grinning over the large cup of steaming mocha, he hid his displeasure over the large, dark vehicle without it's lights on parking across the street.

Maeve entered the coffee shop with him and could almost instantly feel that most of the eyes of the waitresses were on the man next to her. She felt some part of her pride swell that she was walking in next to a man as handsome as he was. But then she had to remind herself that this was only a business meeting, and as such she really had nothing to be proud of. After all... he was wealthy, and a book collector, meaning that he likely had the attentions of women the likes of models whenever he wanted them. What was a college student like her gonna do to compete?

Shaking her head at herself, she sat down at the table with him and smiled some, giving the waitress her order of a large french vanilla cappuccino with two shots of hazelnut flavoring. The waitress took the order dutifully, but her eyes were always trained on the man sitting across from Maeve.

Once she was gone and had brought the drinks back, she chuckled at his question and shook her head. "Hardly... I'm studying literature... I want to write someday. Or at least own my own bookshop." There was a soft smile on her face, it curled her lips slightly and showed off a set of even white teeth as she looked at a picture on the wall, her thoughts a thousand miles away for a moment before she looked back to him, letting out a small chuckle at her daydreams before sipping her coffee.

"What do you do?" she asked, leaning her elbows on he table and her chin in the palm of one hand.

He chuckled at her question, “You know, what all spoiled, rich boys do. Wander the streets at night looking for a good book. Bribe attractive women into coffee dates, and every once in awhile, catch a bite to eat.”

Leaning back in his cold bench seat, “In truth, since my brothers and I are, well lets just say inheritors of a great deal, I've had both the blessing and curse of too much time on my hands. I've tried all sorts of professions, none really suit me.” His mirth faded a bit, and he locked his eyes on hers. “But I do like to paint. I wish I were more inspired in that direction. As it is I only paint a few, somewhat common things in my life.” None of which was a lie. He painted the faces that haunted him most. Past victims that had seared themselves into his memory for all time. Some stood out more then others, but he remembered every last one of them.

Looking across the table, he looked at hope incarnate. Would seeing her safely through what they disparately needed her for make the cycle of death stop? He had no illusions about erasing his long, and bloody past, but if the future at least held some light, then maybe he could find a way redeem himself.

“Call up Victor, ask if he wants them both taken now. Its just a coffee shop, and they both have to leave sometime. Not sure we'll get such an easy grab again,” He ordered the dumb muscle, who immediately started dialing.

Extinguishing yet another cigarette as he waited for the answer. Victor seemed rather tense about this job, and that bothered him. It was also why he made one of the morons call him up – hearing tension in the voice of someone you held so high was not a comforting thing.

“He said to grab them on the way out, if it is easy, else wait and follow them, and see what Jarek is up to.”

“Fine.”

Again they went over their weapons of choice, tranquilizer guns, and lots of real guns, in case they needed to take Jarek down. Those would not kill him of course, but they drained blood fast enough, which left him a mere cripple. The idea of firing on one of his near-gods did not sit well with him, but Jarek had made no promises, where as Victor said he would make him a powerful, wealthy, and respected man. Power had always been the best drug.

Maeve watched him, smiling as he spoke. She sipped at her coffee, listening with interest as it spoke. She'd never really known what it was like to not have one job or another. Even when she was young, there were chores that had to be done around the house and she was the one put in charge of doing them. So even though the jobs were simple, she'd always had them.

"I think I'd like to paint... but I've never been good with art in general. I'm okay with graphics design, but that's not nearly as hard as actually doing things hand's-on like painting," she said with a shrug and a small smile.

And then it occurred to her... she didn't even know this guys name, or anything about him other than he had a lot of money and was quite handsome. "Where are you from?" she asked, leaning one elbow on the table, her chin propping in her palm, her amber eyes on him while her free hand slowly turned her cup of cappuccino in circles.

He chuckled at the question, always amused at having to answer that question. “I'm from a small town in a country few could find on a map. But, my family and I came to America to start a new life, and to some degree, we've met success.” He reached across the table, offering his hand, “I'm Jarek, and very pleased to meet you.”

The girl was actually very pleasant to just sit and chat with, and he wished he could forget looking or further proof she was the right one. Just the feeling around her, he knew it must be her; she had an presence that was indescribable, but powerful and like no other he'd ever met. In another life he'd like to befriend and properly court such a lovely woman, and even now those notions were not completely set aside. But what he found the most striking, was that the idea of feeding from her was somehow wrong in a way not even an infant child could be. Just thinking about it put a bolt of terrible sadness in his heart. Her Blood, was indeed sacred.

“I think we should be friends, you and I. I find your company very enjoyable, and we could learn much from each other. That is, if you like eccentric book collectors from far off mysterious lands.”