::CHAPTER 7::

It was a long ride back and I had no intentions of speeding. Ana stared out of her window and her fingers toyed with her handbag straps. I held back a smile. She was either scared or nervous and if I had to choose, I’d bet on both.

“So are you always out this late doing shopping?” I asked. She threw a glance at me but didn’t reply. “Your fingers aren’t broken. Use your words.”

“I like to shop when it’s busy like this,” she signed.

“Why? Someone as tiny as you must have a hard time getting anywhere in all this chaos. You like big crowds?”

“Yes. Your brother’s home is beautiful, but it’s empty. There’s hardly ever anyone around.”

“I noticed that. Loki always did like his solitude.”

“And I like to be surrounded by people,” she signed.

It wasn’t easy to keep an eye on the road and her hands but I managed. I glanced over and zeroed in on her basic features; short, red hair framing a small face. She had green eyes that popped against her fair skin. Her eyes had that large and sparkly quality that would make a mortal man guilty if he ever made them brim with water. Child’s eyes. I wondered if most people would feel guilty for using her the way I was. I figured they would.

“I don’t mind being surrounded by people, but I don’t know enough of them for that,” I said by way of an open invitation.

“How is that possible? You’re Alejo Mercutio Veracci. You’re a famous artist. The most famous artist of the past few generations. I bet people would come from all over just to spend time with you,” she signed and even without speaking her face said everything. She was a fan. This will do. This will definitely do.

“You like art?” I asked being careful not to say ‘my art’. Conceit would get me nowhere with her.

“Yes. I love it. I only just started doing my own pieces, but I’ve always liked going to exhibits,” she replied.

“That’s great. Who’s your favorite artist?”

Her fingers twitched but they didn’t form any actual signs. Pink tinged her cheeks. Oh yes. Definitely a fan. My face remained politely interested. “Let me guess,” I went on, “Is it Andreus Louis XII? Or maybe Santiago Francis? No, you look like a Renee Montriel lover. Am I right?”

“No. Actually you’re my favorite artist.”

“…me?” I asked, with flawless hesitation, “I’m flattered.”

“Come on. You must be used to hearing people say that.”

“When you get very famous, people think that you’re used to hearing things like that so people try not to say it,” I said parroting her humility. But yes I’m used to hearing people saying that.

“Would it be weird if I asked you to autograph a painting replica for me? Obviously I can’t afford the original,” she added shyly.

“Of course I’ll give you an autograph. It’ll be my pleasure,” I smiled at her and added almost to myself but loud enough so she would hear, “I love meeting new fans.”

“My art class would go insane if they see a real autograph from you.”

“What would they do about a picture of you and I together?” I looked at her.

“Of…you and me?” her eyes were wide, “Are you serious?”

“Don’t fangirl on me over there. It’s only a picture with little old me, not this week’s winning lottery numbers.”

The look on her face was as if I’d given her all of this month’s winning lottery numbers. Building a friendship with her was easy. Hopefully Caroline would be just the same.

“Whenever you’re ready for that autograph you can come find me,” I offered, “My room is probably not going to be a big secret from the help. You can ask around.”

“Great. Okay.”

Her hands were folded in her lap and her lips twitched in a hidden grin. She was over the moon about this. I could see that she was a lot more relaxed than she was when she had first sat in the car. It’s probably not necessary to talk to her anymore. She’s comfortable with me. As comfortable as she’s likely to be at least. I glanced over at her. It wouldn’t hurt to be sure.

“I hope you don’t feel intimidated to talk to me. A lot of people are,” I said with a self-pitying frown, “I imagine we can be good friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes. I don’t exactly have a lot of those so I might be out of practice with making them, but I think we can be friends, right? I’m staying at my brother’s for a week. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to…if you want.”

“Sure. I’d like that. I think we can be really good friends,” she signed.

“Good. I look forward to it,” I flashed a half smile.

“You’re a lot like your brother,” she went on, “but at the same time you’re opposites.”

“What do you mean?”

“Loki looks harmless. He can smile and coax people into trusting him because he looks young and desirable and almost careless. Like he couldn’t come up with weapons of mass destruction or ruin lives without batting an eyelash. He looks as if he is immature, but he’s dangerous. And you are as dangerous as he is. Sweet, but dangerous.”

“No, Ana. I’m far more dangerous than your Loki could ever be.”

“True,” she signed, “But no one expects him to be dangerous. You on the other hand breathe danger. Your face, your eyes, your smile, the way your move…it screams lethal. It’s a barrier. No offence but I can see why you don’t have a whole lot of friends. You’re scary. Physically scary.”

“Really? I’ve never had anyone tell me that before. Explain for me?” I drove on, using my acute peripheral vision to see both her hands and the street.

“Sure. It’s your features. It’s flawless in a doll-like way. Unreal. Then your eyes are so unfeeling that it’s hard to pin emotion to you. Add that to your perfectly tailored suits, you’re a walking Ken doll. I can’t even tell if you’re good-looking or not because something about you just throws a person off. You lack a human quality.”

“Thank you,” I smiled.

“I’m not sure if I meant that as a compliment.”

“But I saw it as one. So thank you,” I said.

“Physically you’re the opposite of your brother but I expect you to be lethal. You can’t bat your lashes and make people think otherwise the way your brother can. But when a person gets to know you…like I am now….they’ll see a nicer sweeter side to you.”

I doubt she noticed but she had given me a peek into how Loki sometimes worked. Physical manipulation. Clever. Humans were always preoccupied with what they saw. They especially liked pretty things and my brother was definitely a pretty thing. A dark sort of pretty but it would do the job.

The car rolled up the street and stopped at the main gates. The guards checked us and allowed me to drive in. Loki was standing outside blinking down at us as we walked up the stairway. “Why is she with you?” he asked. Ana explained what had happened while I went inside. Samuel was in the living room sipping hot blood from a tea set…with his pinky finger raised. I sighed. I gave him Sam for a few hours and Loki had already turned my advisor into a china-using-house-guest whose poise might have his sexual orientation called into question.

Loki offered me a seat and I took the one beside Sam. “Would you like a cup?” he asked me. I looked down at the delicate teapot and then at Samuel’s offensive pinky before declining. “Suit yourself,” he said and took a couch opposite us. “So you didn’t tell me. What did you and Ana talk about during the ride?” Loki asked running a hand over the shadow of hair on his head and then the stubble on his cheek. Hazel eyes locked onto my own.

“Didn’t think it mattered. We didn’t talk about you or your work if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh,” relief in his eyes, “So you two didn’t talk at all?”

“I never said that.”

“What di—.”

“And here I thought you came to see me,” Samuel interrupted, “I’m jealous. How come Loki’s getting all the attention?”

“Don’t be a brat, Sam,” I spared a smirk, “I had some news for you and I wanted to talk face to face. Get some advice.”

“Please don’t tell me there’s another one in your collection.”

“No no. I’ve been keeping busy for now. No time to steal hearts.”

“Why are you here then? Trouble with the soldiers?”

“Do you mind if we have this conversation in private?” I asked with a glance at Loki.

“Sure sure. Feel free to kick me out of my living room after inviting yourself into my home.”

“The sarcasm is strong with this one,” Samuel said jabbing a finger in Loki’s direction before he closed the gliding doors. It separated the living room from the hall while making it soundproof. “Are you going to tell me what was so important that you flew all the way here instead of calling?”

“I came across an old lover of mine.”

“That’s nothing special. You’ve had more lovers than Casanova would if he were immortal,” he shrugged, “What’s so special about her?”

“She was also a friend of mine apparently. She says she knew me when I was human.”

“Well I was not expecting that,” he took a seat, “Did you tell your psychiatrist about her?”

“Of course. He thinks she’s the key to finding out what happened before I was Changed.”

“And what do you think?

“I think she’s my best bet.”

“But?” he raised a brow.

“But I’m not sure if digging up my past is the right thing to do at this point. I kind of like not having a past to bother with. No regrets, no mistakes. No reason to have empathy. She’ll make me remember.”

“You don’t want to remember?”

“Well let’s be honest, empathy seems a bit overrated. I don’t want to turn into one of those crying, whining humans who don’t only have to deal with their own problems but they have to feel for other people too. It’s worse than sympathy. And then there’s guilt. I don’t need to bother explaining my problem with that.”

“You might think differently when you experience it. It’s humbling.”

“Do I look like I want to be a humble person? I am planning to overthrow dozens of governments worldwide. That’s the plan, not humility. Priorities, Sam, priorities.”

“Now I remember why you died alone. Because you’re a pain in the behind. Does she even want to see you again?”

“She gave me her number. I haven’t used it, but I have a feeling that I should and soon. Doc gave me homework. I’m supposed to befriend her all over again.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Samuel shrugged.

“Genuinely befriend her.”

“Ahh. Who knows, maybe you two can be something again.”

“I see the joy in your eyes. Crush those dreams and melt the wedding bells, Sam. Eternity is too long to spend with one person. It would send me mad and I’d have cause to cut out my own heart.”

“You’re so poetic,” he said wryly, “I’d like to meet this…”

“Caroline.”

“This Caroline of yours. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I didn’t want to see what your old life was like. You were probably a very intriguing human.”

“Humans are never intriguing. Not even me.”

“That’s because everything bores you. Life bores you. Eternity bores you. Everything single thing bores you.”

“You don’t bore me most times,” I said to him, “And ducks.”

“Ducks?”

“I like ducks. Ducks are nice.”

“Ducks…” his tone skeptical.

“Yes, the little yellow things that go ‘quack quack’,” I nodded, “I happen to like those.”

“There are no words for you,” Samuel stood up, “You are going to do everything in your power to reconnect with Caroline. Trigger that long term memory of yours. If the doctor says that it’s good for you then I’m on his side. Why couldn’t we have had this conversation with Loki around?”

“Because he would know about Caroline. I don’t need him to have a target before I get through to her.”

“Why would he target someone that you don’t care about?” he asked.

“He’s smart enough to figure out that she’s the link for me to getting any better. Loki likes me flawed. He always has. I’m no use to him fixed. I won’t interest him anymore and that interest is what keeps me alive for him. Besides that, the doctor thinks I’d do well to befriend Ana too.”

“Loki’s Ana? Oh I get it. That’s why you’re here. Are you sure that’s the best move?”

I didn’t answer him. I never did anything that I wasn’t sure of. It was five in the morning by my watch but, as early as it was, I told Sam goodnight and was lead to a room by a passing maid. There I saw my things already sitting there and I made myself at home. With everything settled, I took a rest until it was afternoon.

When I woke up later that day I felt the full impact of life in Loki’s home. Things were much different from the way I was used to in my house. First things first, I was awake…at eight in the morning. That never happened. Morning was night in my home. At eight in the morning, not only was I usually asleep but I was not bombarded with light. Faux sunlight that shined through the window and brightened the entire room until I was awake and blinded. I take it all back. I don’t want to live in a world with light. To think of all the wonders of the earth, God chose to create this first. Let there be light my foot.

My brother was as immortal as I, but clearly his light sensitivity was lower than my own if he could stand this every day. I squinted at the walls but still they pained my eyes. Blindly I stumbled to the window and drew the curtains shut. The sheer fabric hardly did anything to block the light out.

I faced the second problem after my eyes adjusted. The décor. Whoever had chosen the color scheme had mistaken the bedroom for a padded cell. The room was extremely white much like the rest of the house. Every inch of it was covered in white from the sheets to the bed frame to the curtains to the white orchids in the vases and every piece of furniture in here. The place almost glowed. It was cheery in here.

In the kitchen, things were worse. It was there that I met the final and by far most horrible problem; when I asked the maid for breakfast she gave me a bottle.

“What this?” I asked brandishing it.

“It’s a bottle of blood, sir. I can get you another blood type if you prefer.”

“The problem isn’t the flavor. It’s the…the…a bottle of blood? Really? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Drink it?” she stepped back a few inches, “Would you like something more…”

“Alive,” I growled when she couldn’t come up with an answer. I took a step toward her and she took another back.

“That’s illegal. We don’t – er – we can’t bring you a live host.”

“Fine. I can survive without anything today,” I cast one last filthy look at the bottle.

“I already took it out of the container. It’s been out for too long. If you won’t drink it then where should I put it?”

“You really do not want me to answer that question. I promised never to use that kind of language with a lady.”

She gave a scandalized gasp and left. I was sure that our exchange would make it back to the other maids in no time. By the time I reached the front door of the house, Loki was there. “You told my maid that she could shove the bottled blood up her—?”

“No, not those exact words but the sentiments got across.”

“You can’t speak to my maids like that.”

“Technically I can because technically I did and technically it doesn’t matter because technically I didn’t,” I smiled, “Would you excuse me?”

“Where are you going?”

“Are you worried about me? I’m touched,” I landed a kiss on my brother’s cheek, “It’s sweet how you worry about me.”

Before he could get a word in, I was already walking down the stairs and into the warm, faux sunlight. He was beside me again soon enough. “Are you going out to feed?” I didn’t respond. “If you are, you should know that in my city draining humans is illegal. I sort of like to have them around so that their blood supply can replenish and they can donate to the bottled blood companies. We don’t need you running loose all over the place,” he scowled, “You can do what you like in your own city, but Bvendini has rules and while you’re here you will follow them.”

“What am I supposed to do for food?”

“I don’t know. Try animals,” Loki shrugged.

“That is the most insulting thing I’ve ever heard. Animals are worse than bottled blood.”

“Then I suggest you grab a bottle.”

I stared at my brother. His eyes narrowed, expecting me to lash out. I won’t give you the satisfaction. “Never mind,” I gave him a smile, “I’ll find a way to get what I need.” Mistrust flashed in his hazel eyes. Smart man. I walked past him and back into the house.

“Alejo!” he barked, “You are a guest here. Do not let me find out that you’ve harmed anyone who lives under my care.” I turned to him and smiled again.

*** ***********************************

{Third Person POV}

Loki met those frigid-blue eyes and repressed the instinctive urge to shudder. Alejo went inside and Loki cringed. There was nothing warm or real about that smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. Even for an immortal, Alejo had always been a little less than human. Loki didn’t trust him with a bouquet of flowers far less a pair of fangs. Why his father had Changed him was a wonder. If ever there was someone who would betray him, it was his last living sibling. And even then he didn’t have it in him to kill Alejo. The man was so inhuman that it was a task to wrap his mind around the possibility of killing him. What if he didn’t die? What if it just pissed him off instead? Alejo was the grand master of torture. His devices were so legendary that they bordered on mythical.

Alejo was wrong. Loki didn’t keep him alive because he needed him, though that was a small part of it. Alejo was kept alive because Loki was afraid of killing him. The plan had been to kill him when he got home, but Alejo had been home for months and still his brother didn’t dare harm him.

Loki could not find a way to dull the threat of his brother. Alejo was cold, calculating and guilt free. He didn’t feel fear the way most people did. There was no controlling him and that was the frightening thing. It was like threatening a suicide bomber; what would you use against someone who was willing to lose everything? He was walking anarchy. The fact that Alejo refused bottled blood painted a gruesome picture of what his castle was like. Loki could imagine how many humans had died at his hands.

Loki was harsh at times and maybe cold to select people, but he was no sociopath. Loki could empathize. He felt guilt. He felt fear the way normal people did. He could love. And because of that, Alejo would always be stronger. That alone should have made him want his brother to get better but he didn’t. A sick Alejo was dangerously fascinating. He was impossible to explain and kept Loki on his toes. No one had been able to do that in years. When a vampire came across something that interested him, he held onto it because it could be lifetimes before that happened again.

Loki went to the top floor which was a sort of attic. It was clean to the cracks. Faux sunlight bathed the wood paneled room in brightness. He took off his shoes and walked barefooted across the circular, vintage rug. It was worn and soft. He left the rug and went to the far end where his feet met wood. His desk and chair sat there with his sketching utensils splayed out. Ana was standing at the window looking through the glass. “Did you need something?” he asked. She turned to him, not startled.

“No I’m fine,” she signed, “I wanted to see the garden.”

“You really love the view from up here, don’t you?” he shook his head, “Go ahead. You can stay for a bit.”

“Are you sketching again?”

“Yes. Are you working on any new pieces for class?” he asked taking a seat.

“Not really. I have some artist’s block. Can’t think of anything,” she pouted and sat at the window seat.

“Look around. You might get some inspiration. There’s that garden you spend so much time staring at.”

“The garden is a bit tough on a beginner. I wouldn’t do it justice, trust me,” she signed.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find something.”

“Maybe Veracci can help me,” she smiled out at the tree tops.

Loki stopped sharpening his pencil and stared at her. Almost as if she felt his gaze, she turned. Laughing, she covered her reddening face. “You look as though I just ran over your cat,” she pointed at his face, “He’s not that bad.”

“Yes. He is actually.”

“He’s the best artist of my generation. He’s my Picasso. As a budding artist, I should thank the heavens that he even noticed my existence.”

“Exactly. He’s Alejo. He wouldn’t talk to you unless he wanted something.”

“You can be pretty cynical when you want to be.”

“And you can be pretty naïve when you want to be,” he returned, “I know my brother. I think that it’s best you keep your distance from him.”

“Why? He’s sweet. I mean, a bit on the creepy side but still sweet,” she traced the outline of the window sill, “I don’t think anyone’s tried to get through to him. Gotten to really know him.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“I don’t know. I think if you give him the chance, you can get him to lighten up. He seemed nice earlier.”

“Nice? You call a murderous psycho ‘nice’?”

“Do you have proof that he murdered anyone?” she asked. He frowned and continued sharpening the pencils.

She lay her arm on the sill and rest her head. Loki looked up to see a pair of wide, green eyes peering at him. “You like him,” he scoffed, “You like the psycho. I couldn’t put my finger on it but I always knew that there was something wrong with you.” She giggled and turned away from him. “Are you two friends now?” he asked. She shrugged.

“We’re getting there.”

“I really don’t like the idea of this, but if you’re sure,” he began sketching, “You and my brother. Did not see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” she gazed at the patch of sunflowers, “But I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

 ******************************************** 

Lol my stories always seem so cliched on the surface...until I decide to change the game. I've introduced all the women in Alejo's life but I wonder if you can guess who (if he does choose someone) he'll wind up with hahahahahee. 

I'm such a troll (^.^)

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