The Vamp & The Tramp (Closed for princesssexci and I)

Bio:

Name: Thomas Carlisle

Age: Thomas was made a vampire when he was 28, and so will eternally look that way. In reality, he is nearing his 150th year as a vampire.

Appearance: Thomas stands 6 feet 3 inches tall with a lean, muscular build. This was his physique before he was turned, and thanks to the conversion he no longer needs to maintain himself, though if he goes long enough without feeding he will appear to be slightly thinner and more gaunt in his facial features. His skin is pale, but not ridiculously so. He is clean-shaven, has short cropped brown hair, high dignified cheekbones, a mouth that is not full, but is not pencil-thin either, and his gaze is set with piercing gray eyes.

Personality: Thomas was of noble blood before he was turned and has continued on in that vein, so to speak. Paying off those who might take notice of a man who never ages, and killing those that get too nosy, Thomas has kept relatively under the radar. He had a partner once, a beautiful countess who was actually a vampire. She turned him so that they could remain together forever, but Thomas resented her for stealing the rest of his human life from him. She grew to hate him for it, and attempted to kill him while he slept one evening, just before dusk. Thomas awakened prematurely and avoided the killing blow, striking her down instead. For some time after that he remained solitary, but eternal unlife grew quite unenjoyable as the years passed. He has found several 'pets' more recently, but nothing worthy of his time for more than a few months. It is in this period between companions that we find Thomas at present....

Story setup:

As his steps clicked against the cobblestones of Randleman Street, his slate eyes scanned the crowd milling about. The weather was getting cooler, summer's grip fading, but not without a fight. The air was crisp and a slight breeze blew in from the East. The sun had fallen just low enough on the horizon that Thomas could venture away from his resting place. Years of careful study had shown him the hours he could glimpse the sun and not be obliterated by it, though he still had to be careful not to be caught in a harsh glare from the fiery orb. The market on Randleman didn't really come alive until the evening anyway...

The stalls were all adorned with various signs that advertised every kind of ware you could want, from food to clothes to silver and fine china. All things sold at reasonable prices, if you didn't know any better. Thomas pretended to be interested in a particular stall, whose owner he knew personally, and also knew her wares were particularly falsified. He flipped her a few coins and took a small pendant on a seemingly silver chain. The pendant itself was real silver though, in the shape of an hourglass. The glass portions were empty however, and if one looked closely enough they would see the small catch that opened at the bottom of the hourglass, allowing it to be filled with sand, or any other substance. Thomas continued down the cobbled street at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights and sounds, though he had heard them all time and again. He had seen Randleman Street built from the ground up, seen it flourish and fall twice, and this third time promised to be the most grand of all.

It had been ages since Thomas had felt the familiarity of a companion. Nearly 30 years, now that he thought about it. He missed the closeness, the sense of intimacy that came with having another of your kind to talk with and spend time with. None of it had been the same since Tabitha....damnable Tabitha and her treachery...He shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued his trek down the length of the marketplace, the pendant dangling from his hand, catching the light of the oil lamps that had started to be lit as the sunlight retreated behind the skyline of the city.

Bio:

Name: Rebecca (Becca) Evergreen
Age:21
Appearance: Long brown curly hair, which she normally keeps tied up in a bun. Becca has dark chocolate brown eyes, pouty full lips, slim with a bit of curves with size C breasts, she has a beauty mark under her left eye which some might call exotic.
Personality: Becca is a 'street urchin' and can normally be seen somewhere in the alleys of Randleman St., she has quite a mouth on her, is very sassy. She is very rebellious when it comes to authority, and is way too curious for her own good. Her mother was killed by soldiers and her father who had been in the war, had been killed within the first few months he'd gone away. This all happened when Rebecca was 5 and her little sister 2(this is the reason she has a problem with authority). After being sent to an orphanage, at the age of 17 she ran away, her little sister stayed. Needless to say, her sister had a charm about her and managed to marry a rich nobleman, leaving her older sister on the streets to fend for herself. Now at the age of 21, Becca is utterly alone doing just that, fending for herself.

Intro:

Rebecca Evergreen wasn't always a street urchin. She used to have a family, used to live in a house, used to have a mother and father. Of course, she figured thats what she used to have. She could only remember bits and pieces of her life as a little girl. She and her sister had then been sent to an orphanage. Becca had never liked orphanage's. They served terrible food and the woman who helped run the place hadn't been very nice.

This was one of her reasons for leaving the orphanage at the age 17. However, that part of her life didn't matter. She wasn't that silly little 17 year old girl who had dreams of finding some charming guy to sweep her off her feet and whisk her away from the life of crime and such.

No, she was alone. Her little sister had been the lucky wench who married a rich nobleman and Becca wished her well. It was getting dark which meant many of the shops would be closing soon, it also meant if she wanted anything to eat, she'd better "find" something soon. Her eyes darted around the market catching sight of a few apples that were left on the stand.

"Dinner." she said, to no one in particular as she walked towards one of the vendors, she pretended to browse though she didn't exactly have the money for anything. As soon as the owner turned his back, she snatched a few apples and did the first thing that came to mind, run. Yes, it meant that most likely the owner would catch her, but it was worth the risk and she was starving!

Not paying attention to where she was running, she bumped into a man; the apples that she had stashed in pockets falling to the ground.

Thomas was distracted by the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, and so was taken completely by surprise when the young woman collided with him. He barely moved, but she was jolted enough to drop whatever she was holding. "You might want to watch where you're running miss..." he said as he stooped to retrieve her fallen items. They were a few apples, obviously ready for the trash...but as he handed them to her, the look in her eyes was that of hunger, not disgust. "an interesting meal choice you've made...do you always eat near-rotten apples?" His brow arched slightly as he questioned the young woman, his fingers idly toying with the pendant still held in his hand.

"You might want to watch where you're running miss...

Becca blushed slightly at the comment as she bent down to retrieve her dinner for the night. The stranger had done the same thing then made a comment on her choice of food. Though, it wasn't really a choice, now was it? When you were poor, you didn't have a choice but to eat anything you could find. She glanced behind her shoulder to make sure the fruit stand owner hadn't seen her.

Making eye contact with the man she'd bumped into Becca replied, "Yes, they are sweeter that way. I won't have to worry about them tasting disgusting...and they're easier to bite into." Becca paused, " Do you always ask women you don't know about their choice of cuisine?"

She grabbed hold of the other apples he had picked up, rubbed the dirt off of them with her tattered shirt and stuck them back in her pocket. "Thank you for your help." She said, not bothering to apologize for bumping into him, it was his own fault. He shouldn't have been in her way when she was trying to run from the fruit stand.

Thomas took note of three things as the woman stooped in unison with him to grab her fallen food. First, her furtive glance over her shoulder. The state of the apples was very contrary to her smart-arsed remark about sweetness. Even though he hadn't eaten a scrap of food for close to two centuries, he still remembered how apples tasted, and knew that when they were as they were now, they were horrible to eat. Second, her lack of apology. She had thanked him, but it seemed she still felt that she wasn't at fault for running into him. He laughed inwardly at the thought of such an indignant woman. Third, he noted her despicable attire, tattered and torn in places and covered in a fine layer of dust that could only mean she made her home here in the streets.

As she stood, he did the same and responded to her question. "Actually, I do. I am quite intrigued by those with..." he searched his mind for an appropriate word. "Unique appetites. I myself have a few..."

He could see her glancing over her shoulder, and he followed her look to see a food cart off to the side of the street. The owner was rooting around in his wares, seemingly looking for something he'd misplaced. Thomas looked the dirty-clothed girl right in the eyes, his gaze stern. "You're quite welcome, but I must say that if you have taken those apples, you should return them. It's not polite to steal other peoples' belongings..." Thomas didn't approve of thievery, which was a bit of a hypocrisy since he maintained his own life by stealing others'. Regardless, he stood in her way of running further past him down the street, hoping she would take his advice peacefully.

She didn't make a comment when he mentioned his inate ability to question women he didn't know. Well, that figured. Becca managed to bump into someone who didn't mind their business. She was about ready to leave the strange man to his own curiosity about her but he seemed to be blocking her way out.

"I'd rather not, but thank you for your consideration of a fruit vendors who happens to be missing a few bad apples. Though, I doubt he'll miss them much as they weren't selling anyway."

Leaning over, Becca tried to peer at the vendor and seeing that he was indeed looking for something he'd lost. What did it matter though, they were nearly rotten apples and they never sold. She should know, she'd been stealing from that cart ever since she was 17 and customers never bought rotten apples.

"Now, will you please get out of my way? I'm starving and would like to eat my......" she hesitated because the rotten apples were nowhere near sweet, "delicious dinner."

"Well miss, I'm afraid I must insist." he said calmly, remaining in her way. What the woman didn't know was that hidden inside one of the rotten apples was a ring, which the vendor had intended to give his wife. Thomas only knew this because he had seen the man place the ring inside earlier in the evening. The man had probably thought it the best hiding spot, but must have forgotten about sly urchins like this young lady.

"I'll tell you what, we shall both go to his stall and return his merchandise. And once we have, you can have your pick of some other, more fresh food for dinner, on my dime."

Thomas wasn't sure why, but he enjoyed the crass personality of the woman. Like the apples, she seemed to have something hidden beneath the surface.

Taking a hold of her arm gently, Thomas began to usher the woman toward the stall.

Becca obviously didn't have a choice in what she did as the strange man seemed to be pulling her to the stall. Sighing, she rolled her eyes at him, "Fine, if you insist. But if I go to jail, there will be hell to pay, and you'll be the one paying it." Becca snapped as she was being pulled closer and closer to the vendor.

Besides, who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth. The man did offer free food to her, did he not? Since she couldn't afford what she normally ate, everything she got was free...in a sense. Maybe not to the vendors, but most definitely to her.

Once they were at the fruit cart, Becca pulled her arm out of the man's grasp. She glanced at the man who had ushered her to her fate of most likely being sent to jail and then to owner.

"Sorry, we're sold out. As you can see, there are no more ripe fruits for you to choose from. I'll be back tomorrow, however." The owner said, in a distracted tone as he searched everywhere for something.

"Uh, no...I.....found these apples, they had rolled out of your cart. I thought it best to return them to you, rotten or not." Becca said softly as she pulled the apples from her pockets.

This was probably the nicest thing she'd done in a very long time.

The vendor looked from the woman to Thomas, and he nodded and smiled slightly, his lips barely curling. The vendor nodded and smiled in return, scooping up the apples and setting them on a table next to him. Thomas turned from the stall and waited for the woman to follow. As they headed away, he gestured to several of the small outdoor cafés and food stands still open, their various aromas wafting on the air. "A clever lie you told there. I would have sworn you even meant it when you said it. Now then miss....take your pick. But before you decide, I must ask, what is your name? I fear I would be remiss to offer a meal to someone I didn't know..."

Thomas smiled as he said it, recalling her earlier comment. He remembered the pendant, still dangling from his fingers, and tucked it into one of his pockets. As he breathed in the now night air, still crisp from the day, he remembered a time when he actually ate real food and had real drink. Shortly after being turned, he had tried to eat and drink, but found that it only caused him to be violently sick. Over the years he had found that wine was about the only thing not forbidden to his vampiric stomach.

He stopped at a crossroads of sorts, a stall selling sausages and other meats fried on sticks to one side, and a small café with its menu written on a board with deep red letters to the other. The menu had several different wines, various entrées, and a few desserts, all of which were named with tantalizing monikers like "Molten chocolate mousse souffle" and "Cedar smoked lamb shank". One wine in particular caught Thomas' eye. "Vino Sanguine" was its name, and it sparked a curiosity in his mind as he waited for the young woman to answer and decide.

"A clever lie you told there. I would have sworn you even meant it when you said it. Now then miss....take your pick. But before you decide, I must ask, what is your name? I fear I would be remiss to offer a meal to someone I didn't know..."

Did he really expect her to ....dare she say it, be honest? That was against everything she stood for. She was not lying for anyone elses sake but her own. If the vendor had known that she had stolen the apples he probably would've called the kings guards or something.

"You do realize that if you buy me food even though you know my name, you are still buying for a stranger. Just because you know my name, does not mean we know each other."

She was silent for a moment as he looked over the menu, still apparently waiting for her to answer. Free food, free food she reminded herself. Free food that she didn't have to return once she ate it.

"Becca." She finally relented, "it's Becca."

"Hmmm...Becca. I am aware that knowing your name doesn't give me much of an idea who you are, but it is a start. I know I told you that you could choose your meal, but I must admit that I am drawn to this café at present. We will dine here, if that's alright with you?"

His question was mostly rhetorical, as he knew the urchin wouldn't refuse the food being offered. He looked her over again, in her dirty ragged clothing and he almost flinched. He had never been in such a state except for perhaps during a rainstorm that caught him outside away from his penthouse. He realized that being seen with the woman might raise some suspicion, but at this point he would simply dismiss any questions using his own personal form of persuasion.

Still, Thomas stood still and waited for Becca to acquiesce to his choice. He read the name of the wine again, searching his mind for when he had seen it before. It was at the tip of his thoughts, but refused to be revealed.

Again, just when he'd forced her to give up her apples; it wasn't a question it was an order. For some reason, this man thought he could order her around. Even though she didn't care where she ate, she didn't like being bossed around by anyone. Besides, the way he kept looking at her like...she was an embarassment did not suade her to want to be around him anymore than she had to.

"Alright.." Becca said through clenched teeth, "Do I at least get to choose what I eat, or will you be deciding that as well?" Her eyes narrowed at the man, "And do you not think it's fair that I at least have your name since I did give you mine?"

He kept eying the wine choices which caused her to believe that he may try to get her drunk and possibly take advantage of her. That certainly did not bode well. She would eat and then leave to her usual alley for the night, Becca told herself.

"Of course you may choose what you eat. I simply feel as though this is our best choice in venue. And where are my manners, my name is Thomas. Thomas Carlisle. Now then, shall we?"

He laughed inwardly again as he noted her narrowed eyes. He truly hadn't realized that he hadn't introduced himself, but that was now done. He led the way to a table closer to the restaurant proper, yet still in a semi-secluded corner. He pulled her chair out for her and waited for her to be seated before seating himself across from her. The waiter came over almost immediately with a small pad of paper and a pen.

"May I take your order, sir?" the waiter asked, looking to Thomas for the decisions. Thomas smiled at Becca and with a small laugh he said "Actually, miss would like to order for herself. And as for myself, I must ask, what type of wine is the Vino Sanguine? It seems a red to me, but I've been fooled before..."

"It's our house special. A favorite of the proprietor and customer alike. I could bring you a sample of it to try before you buy a bottle..."

Thomas considered this. He didn't know the owner of this particular café, but it would have to be someone who....

It was that moment that the memory clicked. Tabitha had bought a bottle of it before from a friend. The wine was infused with blood, though in such a dilution that a human would never know. To a vampire though, it was the best tasting wine they could have, when they chose to drink something other than blood.

"No need for that. One bottle should be fine."

The waiter scribbled something on his pad before turning to Becca. "And for you, miss?"

As Becca took her seat and the man, now known as Thomas ordered the wine, she smiled as best as she could at the waiter, whom seemed to be looking her up and down as though she were trash that should be thrown out immediately, "I would like the lamb shank please." She said, leaving out the Cedar smoked part, because she had no idea that she should actually say those words.

She had never been in a restaurant before, she hadn't even stolen from one before, so she'd no idea what a lamb shank tasted like. Once the waiter scribbled down her order and left, she looked around the cafe. It wasn't huge or grand, like something the queen might come to, but it was still very beautiful.

It was more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen before. Although, she hadn't seen very many beautiful things in her life. Finally, she returned her attention to Thomas, "May I ask why you are not eating?" It was curious to her why he would bring her to a nice little cafe but not buy anything for himself aside from wine.

"The simple answer is that I'm not hungry." he replied. That, of course, was a lie. Thomas hadn't fed in three days, and was really very hungry. But he would hopefully take the edge off with the wine. He leaned forward, hands steepled in front of him as his slate colored eyes locked on hers. He was going to test her, see how honest she would really be now. He would know if she were lying, but he would not let her know that. How she answered would determine his next moves, and he turned over the different possibilities in his mind as he spoke. "So, Becca...where exactly do you live? I have my guesses, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Becca slightly stiffened at that question. Why did he want to know where she lived? What business of his was it? She thought he was just buying her a meal and letting her go. Was he planning to escort her home? Most likely, since that was the chivalry way to do things. It would be hard to explain that she lived in an alley though.

She was certain that it was obvious that she didn't live in the best of homes though, by her raggedy clothing. Mayhap, this was a trick question. It was possible, but still the question remained, why did he want to know. Holding her head up high, she responded, "I live...not too far from here, but I do not disclose my exact location to men I have just barely met."

This was true, as she hadn't exactly been courted before and didn't have a home to disclose any information about to begin with. However, even if she did; it would still be dangerous to tell a man she hardly knew where she lived. What if he were rapist?

Thomas smiled once more as she told him that she lived nearby while not giving him any details to her exact circumstances. She was being truthful, at least, and that was a good sign. Despite her mildly abrasive attitude, she was willing to share a little with him, even though they hardly knew anything of each other.

"I live nearby as well. Do you live with your family?" he asked, already knowing that someone in her dress was more than likely an orphan, given to the streets when no one else would take them. He wanted to know more about her, see if she were worthy enough to be taken under his wing, made a servant...certainly she would enjoy having a real home and regular meals and clean clothes. But that could wait until after dinner.

It was then that the waiter arrived, carrying a platter with Becca's lamb dish over one shoulder and a plain dark green bottle with a dark oak cork. He placed the lamb shank in front of Becca, laying a napkin across her lap, clandestinely trying not to touch her grubby clothes. He then presented the bottle to Thomas, smiling as he said "Here's your wine sir, I do hope it's to your liking. Would you like me to pour for you?"

"No thank you, that will be all for now." Thomas said taking the bottle from the waiter and waving a hand to dismiss him. "Have you heard of this wine? It's quite the vineyard that can make wine this wonderful. Would you care to try some?" he asked as he poured himself a generous glass of the deep dark red liquid.

The mention of Becca's family, made her want to cry. She hadn't known them long, so it was absolutely ridiculous that she should miss someone she'd only known for five years of her life but she did. If they were still alive, perhaps she could have married someone of worth.

But those 'what if's' were useless, weren't they?

"No, I do not. They have...moved onto a better place." She didn't mention that she'd been on her own ever since she was 17. That was none of his business. Still, it seemed rather peculiar that he would ask of her family. Perhaps he wanted rape her like she were a common wench and then...kill her!

That was the problem with being an independant woman in this day and age. Any man could take advantage of you, provided you did not have a family to protect you and Becca did not. She was brought out of her thoughts at his next question of having some wine.

Well, if she were going to die tonight, why not die after having her first drink of wine.

"Yes, please..." she said, after taking a bite of her lamb, chewing, and then swallowing. She watched as he poured a generous amount of wine for himself. Dear god, she was going to be killed by a drunkard!

The more her thoughts became distressed, the easier it was for him to read them. She was most certainly unnerved by him, but that was typical of people that Thomas encountered. Being disconnected from life gave him a bit of a hard personality to get along with. Mostly, he managed though.

He considered her response about her family, brows furrowing slightly, almost imperceptibly...so her family had either died or given her up. More likely the former than the latter. That explained her current situation perfectly.

As he poured her a more modest glass of wine, he smiled softly. She seemed to be enjoying the lamb from the first bite. "This wine, for all its flavor, is not a strong alcohol at all, which is pleasant in a way." Thomas took a slow sip from his glass, the familiar flavor of wine washing over his tongue, closely followed by the even more familiar taste of blood. Were he not a vampire, he would mistake it for some other exotic flavoring, but his tastebuds knew immediately and his pupils dilated a fraction. His hunger became more apparent to him, but the yearning was beginning to subside, even from the small amount of blood in the wine.

Setting his glass down, his hands steepled once more in front of him, watching Becca eat with a bit of an amused smirk on his face, his gray eyes catching random candlelight from around the café. He was certain she'd not had a meal of this sort in a while, if ever.

Becca felt slightly embarassed as she seemed to be cramming the food in her mouth. The meat was incredibly delicious and she hadn't had this sort of meat...ever. The sort of meats they served at the orphanage was not at all this...tender.

She eyed her own glass of wine as Thomas described it. Taking a break from the tender lamb, she swallowed her food and then swallowed it. It tasted...different, not that she knew what normal wine tasted like. Apparently, by his description of the not so alcoholic wine, it was different from others?

Becca wasn't quite certain but took another sip, not because she knew how to taste wine but because she wasn't sure if she'd enjoy the wine. "It tastes...exotic? Is it from a different country?" She asked, curiously before taking another huge bite of her lamb.

Her table manner were terrible, had the waiter not placed the napkin in her lap she wouldn't have done so herself. Now dying of thirst, she paid no attention to the fact that the wine should probably be savored and gulped down the whole glass.

Though her dining etiquette was atrocious, Thomas didn't mind. He'd seen vampires who acted worse, even though they knew better. She was devouring the lamb, which did look to be well-prepared, and she quickly finished the wine in her glass.

"Well, the additives I must admit I do not know where they come from, but the wine itself is grown on a small farm not too far from this city."

This was another lie. The wine was indeed from a small hamlet on the outskirts of the city, but the additive was the blood of the servants' daughters, taken at the time of their 16th birthdays and every other year from then until their 21st. The blood was taken in small amounts, and as there were many servants, their daughters were numerous as well. This made for a decent amount of bottles to be infused and matured before distributing.

"I can see you're enjoying your meal. I'm glad." he said as he took another couple of deliberate sips from his glass. His hunger was mostly a dull pang, easily suppressed for the time being. He gestured to her now empty glass, "Would you like some more wine?"

Becca blushed at the comment of her enjoyment of the meal. Well, at least he wasn't frowning at her in disgust. That was a relief! She eyed her glass which had been full of wine but a few moments ago, but was quickly drained. "Yes, please." she said

She had finished at least half of the lamb shank and was full, shockingly enough. She pushed the plate to the center. "After I have some wine, I should probably go...it's getting late and I'm fairly certain you have some young miss, worrying sick about her...."

Becca looked him over, he didn't seem to have a wedding band on, therefore he probably wasn't married which was a shocker because he was handsome enough to be married and off the market so to speak, not that she could afford such a man of worth.

"courted? Betrothed?" she said, quite unsure what the term would be used for someone who was not married but courting a young female. Surely, he must've had a young lady, with looks such as he.

Her eating slowed, and eventually she pushed the plate forward. She was clearly stuffed, which was good. He poured her another modest glass of wine, refilling his own in the process.

"Actually, I am quite single. I was betrothed, once...." he said recalling Tabitha's wicked face as she stood above his resting place. "...That ended...long ago."

A slight frown crossed his lips, furrowing his brows scantly. He considered letting her leave, to drift off into the night. That simply would not do. He felt a certain spark in this one, and he wanted to keep her near, at least for a while longer.

"Let me be frank, Becca. I have more than an inkling that while you were truthful about living near here, you have no actual place to lay your head aside from the dark alleys of Randleman Street. I, being a man of my stature, simply will not stand for that, and I request that you return to my penthouse with me. Fear not, my intentions are simply to allow someone less fortunate than I to experience some of the comforts that should be afforded everyone. A warm bath, clean clothes, and a place to sleep that does not crawl with rats and other vermin. Beyond that, it is completely in your hands. I am always in need of another handservant....my demands can be somewhat...taxing and some are simply not cut out for the work. This time, the choice is truly entirely yours. You need only decide the first part of my offer for now, but please do consider the second as well."

Having said all he needed to say, Thomas sipped his wine and awaited her answer. His slate eyes continued to catch the light from the rest of the café, and if one looked closely, they would notice the unnatural appearance of his pupils.

Well, that was certainly interesting, wasn't it? A handsome bachelor such as he who was not taken off the market. She had no intentions of getting romantically involved with him though, she hardly knew the man and reminded herself of that exact fact.

Becca gulped down her second glass of wine with absolutely, no finesse at all as she listened to him talk and offer her a place to stay. For a moment she was suspicious until he told her that his intentions were only good. Well, thats what every woman wanted to hear, now wasn't it?

Not that she wanted to be raped. "I suppose I could stay," Becca answered hesitantly. It still seemed a bit odd that a man who she barely knew would offer her a place to stay, but then who was she to deny the warmth of a nice bed and clean clothes. She may have been a street urchin, but she wasn't a stupid street urchin.

"For how long is this offer valid?"

"For as long as I am alive." Thomas said with a small chuckle. It was all the more amusing to him that she had no clue what he exactly meant by that. He was no longer alive as such, but in his unlife he was damned near immortal. He stared into her eyes, his gaze nearly unbreakable. Thomas wanted her to agree, but resisted from giving her a nudge in that direction.

He drained his glass and poured the remainder of the bottle into it, sipping it slowly. The waiter came over to take Becca's plate and the emptied bottle, and Thomas gave him a few silver coins and one single gold piece. "That's for you to keep, thank you for fine service." he said as the waiter grinned like a fool and walked away.

"My penthouse is only a short walk from here, if you decide to join me." Thomas said, more idly filling the space before her response than anything else. Another sip of the wine and he could feel the blood in his veins, coursing and giving him a bit of a high. He knew that feeling to be the effect of not feeding for a while, and he actually enjoyed it. It was a rush of sorts, and he felt he could do no wrong. She would come with him, and then he would get to see her as she was, outside the harshness of her reality.