laying on a bed of spider webs

Even the passage of centuries couldn’t grant him release from Juliette de Sauveterre. There was something about her that was almost mesmerizing, and impossible to forget. Never had Mercer met a person who could wield words as well as he, who held themselves so eloquently despite the cloak of secrecy and shadows on their shoulders. The two of them had led very different lives before they’d met, yet somehow, they were nearly the same. Mercer was a bit more thirsty for bloodshed rather than champagne, more partial to fisted hands than a delicate touch. Juliette was admittedly more graceful, and admittedly dangerous in her own right. Her words were sharper than the cheekbones holding up those tricky blue eyes that always twinkled with the slightest bit of malice. Each of their conversations would have to be replayed in his head afterwards, always the worry that he’d missed something; the smallest twitch of the lips, a change in tone. It kept him on his toes, so much that she’d earned a great deal of his respect.

But respect and friendship were not always synonymous. ‘Friend’ was term he used lightheartedly, a way to make people feel as if they mattered to him, to make his job easier. A true friend was capable of holding his absolute trust, something he dealt over very rarely. Juliette was neither of those things, but she was something. Just another way she endlessly left him complexed. It was almost infuriating, but there was still a small amount of relief in him to see such a familiar face as he wandered around like a ghost. He’d of course looked at the guest list before arriving in Tuscany, but seeing her face to face was different; and she hadn’t changed in the slightest

He was more than happy to relax as he watched her recline in his chair, his own body sinking onto the edge of his bed just a few feet away. Chocolate hues eyed her carefully - an unbreakable habit - keeping tabs on her stature, squinting slightly at the subtle change in the tone of her voice. “Careful now. I might almost say you’ve missed me.” he mused, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. Missing another person was a luxury Mercer couldn’t afford, not in his line of work. She expectedly recounted his story all too well, the less than pleasant memories causing his lips to tighten in a thin line before he relaxed them into a easy smile. “You are correct, as always. I wish it were a prettier picture.” A short, almost wistful beat, and then, “But today is a new painting, is it not? A fresh canvas of sorts. Whether I’ll be painting with oils or blood is…yet to be determined.”

His comment had her thinking, had she missed him? They weren’t friends in any conventional way or even in the unconventional. That word seemed to come with trust and that was a delicate thing to provide anyone. Yet, Juliette had enjoyed him being around when he was. She was still young. Barely out of the stage of pure bloodshed, her teeth still aching with every thought. He had of course been Ezio then. That was one thing she had never had to endure, losing her name. She wasn’t so certain she would have carried it as well as he seemed to. In her human life it had meant so much to her, but perhaps that was a noble thing? Names only meant something to the correct few. “Miss is a strong word,” she finally concluded her mental thoughts with a soft ghost of a smile.

His warm colored eyes were tinged with something she couldn’t pinpoint but honestly, didn’t try very hard. Instead, she could feel something pleasant slide up her spine as he got a little more comfortable in his position. Jules obviously hadn’t expected to see him, the whole being dead and all. It made for a pleasant surprise and she couldn’t even lie to herself and act as if a large part of her wasn’t pleased. It was inconvenient. Contently she listened, her mind bouncing along with his words. Cataloguing his smile that turned into something tense for a later date. What had he done to disappear?

“You know the interesting thing about paintings Ezio,” his true name was said so softly as it danced off her tongue. Practically mouthed and barely whispered. Even among rooms that weren’t meant to have surveillance, she was careful with it. No reason to put things in the light that didn’t need to be. “If you have a delicate hand you can peel the new layers from the top to get to the old,” it wasn’t a threat, not really. A pure statement of fact. No need for him to get caught again. One death after reaching immortality was probably enough.

“However,” her body moved to shift so she could lean on her crossed legs, “I have my personal hopes for whatever you may have planned,” she continued eyeing him critically. “I was always partial to a deep red,” pausing for what would have been the beat of a heart, she leaned back into her previous position with a small shrug. “There was always something so beautiful about it.”

This was probably the one thing Ashton regret putting himself into. Margaret looks at him often disappointingly with how he dressed. Seeing the way Juliette scans him, she probably felt the same. Perhaps he simply offered out of a good gesture and good will, he didn’t really think that far ahead of her accepting the offer. Nothing better than giving bad impressions over his questionable knowledge of the clothes on your body.

He shook her hand but when she continued he gave a look of confusion before slightly frowning at his own hand that she just let go. Rough, with a few old scars from back in the day, vampire perks didn’t include human days, which doesn’t seem like much of a perk to him. He consciously rubbed his hands together before trailing behind her as he entered her room. 

That’s.. a lot of clothing. More than what Astor brought and that was an uncomfortable amount already. Maybe it is better he didn’t touch anything at all. He stood by a side, hands behind his back in case he was ever tempted. “Enjoying.. is a strong word,” Ashton picked his words, careful with what he tells her, but still wanting to be as honest as he could. He still doesn’t really understand why he was sent here, he doesn’t know what’s his purpose here. He stared at the beige coloured dress, pausing and biting his lower lip before somewhat vaguely pointing towards the rack in the closets? He has no idea what he’s doing but dresses should go on the racks, right? Marg did not train him for this. “I haven’t really explored too much outside the estate yet though, so I’ll hold my judgement for a little bit later. And you? Any favourite spots in Tuscany yet?”

A delicate eyebrow arched when she saw that he would not be taking a seat. Any lesser person would assume that their hospitality wasn’t good enough. Thankfully Juliette wasn’t just anyone and simply let it go. The little she had heard of his name, which was very little, painted a picture of simplicity. A man that did what he was told. A good boy. Nearly like a puppy with a rather large bite. She couldn’t fault him for that. Sometimes the simple way of living was better. Not for her mind you but for some people. “Enjoy is always a strong word,” she countered as she turned away to hold the dress up where he had gestured. No, not there but two down perhaps. Sliding it in she stepped back with a small smile. Perfect.

His question had her attention once more, a deft spin had her facing him. Looking at him, she decided on a soft form of honesty. No, he wouldn’t get to really know anything but just enough to paint his own picture of her. “I used to have favorite spots,” she offered with a soft shrug that was filled with nostalgia. “But that was over two hundred years ago. Most of those places don’t exist anymore,” was added with a sigh before she went back to her clothing.

“That being said I was thinking of doing ‘tourist’ things,” her words would have been slightly muffled to a human as she grabbed another item and hung it up, but it would be no issue to him. “It’s been long enough that maybe looking at everything with an older set of eyes will make it -,” a pause lingered as she looked for the word she wanted. Turning to him as she thought it.  “Fresh maybe?”

@ncnpareil

Kai felt as if they’d been briefed for twelve years before they’d been escorted to the party. Even then, they arrived fairly late, everything completely in full swing around them. It felt a little like being in a spy movie, the sheer number of times their handler made Kai repeat their ‘cover story’ out loud. Kai Levesque, a late arrival from the Montreal coven, a personal adoptee of Keket. Born vampire, lived all their life in Quebec. Hell, they’d even given them a fake cover story about a lycan girlfriend to explain away any non-vampire scents. Still, Kai wasn’t at all happy being watched like some sort of asset by the guard the coven assigned. After meandering around the garden, the hybrid caught sight of someone that might just make their escort go away. 

Waving to Juliette, a vampire who’d been uniquely aware of Kai since their young age, they send a look to their babysitter. “Can I hang with Juliette? She’s like, trustworthy and stuff. Please.” It seemed the vampire watching them wasn’t too keen on playing keeper all night either and let them make their way over to her. “I hate this,” they told her, lowering their voice so passersby didn’t hear. “I don’t need a babysitter to watch me. Especially after they drilled this crazy fake story for me for the past hour.” Honestly, they were surprised the dynamic duo even let Kai out of their room. “I heard there’s free wine. I guess the lycan heir has it made.”

A birthday party. Juliette honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had attended one. There was something about immortality that pushed the idea of aging into a realm of just – who cared? At least in her own mind, that was. Another year down simply meant that she hadn’t somehow found a way to die. Of course, she wasn’t volunteering. Forever was a delicious thought. That, however, didn’t seem to apply to lycans, or at least the son of their leader. Perhaps that was what made it so important? It didn’t really matter. She didn’t really care. If somehow the party turned into a horrible tragedy she would have been more entertained.

With a drink in hand, she eyed her company and mentally took stock of each person. Some faces she knew; others weren’t recognized but she had faith she would more familiar with them before the time was up. Whatever her mind was going to offer next died silently as a certain young one came over. Tilting her head as Kai began to speak, she could feel a slight tug of amusement. “Well, you know, guardians,” her tone was straight-faced but her words were meant as a quiet tease. They both knew there must have been something more to it all. There always was. “Always thinking they know best.” There was something acidic on her tongue when she whispered the words. Her disdain lingering from the announcements that had happened more than a few days ago.

“As for their wine,” she offered with a swish of the glass she had in her hand, the red swirling dangerously but still stayed within. “There is a reason it’s free,” her lips curled slightly before looking from the stemmed glass in her hand and towards them once more. With a sigh, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at them as if they rarely spoke. She imagined the cover story was something that proved few attachments to someone like her. “Not enjoying yourself?

Z was lounging around her new flat with easy steps and a calm posture, looking the very image of relaxed. She was well aware of the happenings around her, but she didn’t feel the need to participate in the anxiety, nor did she have the mindset to do so. So she was here, entirely immune to the tension as she moved her desk three inches to the left, a side table to the other side of the couch. She preferred not to occupy any space unless everything was exactly the way she wanted it.

After shifting a few more things, she settled in on said couch, rearranging the authentic silk kimono she wore evenly on her shoulders. Indeed. Not a care in the world. Not because she was hopeful, or easy going – she simply didn’t care. Apathy was something she’d let spread through her veins centuries ago, and it was the driving force behind her being. It kept her level, it kept her alert. It helped her be ready. Everything had a time and a place. Everything had an order.

Patience, she told herself. Patience, she’d tell everyone else if she didn’t consider it a waste of breath. Her support and loyalty to Keket wasn’t a blind thing. She had learned, and everyone else would too. The decision was made, and this is the path they all must take. In her mind, it was as simple as that.

A knock at the door tore through her musings, and she was up in a moment, pulling the door open in the next. Sharp blues came into view and Z almost felt herself smile. Juliette was one of the few souls she could say she liked, and more than that, appreciated. It’s true it’d never been said, but the sentiment was there nonetheless. “Back at you. Come in, Juliette.”

She took the gift as she pushed the door closed behind her with her hip, taking a moment to read the card and look at her present. She ran her fingers over the jewelry, “Oh my… you’re awful, do you know that? I suppose this keeps us even.” She paused, and motioned to the couch, “Sit. I’ll be back.” It took all of two minutes to for her to duck into her bedroom and reappear with a bag in hand, which would be opened to reveal a bottle of 2002 Dom Perignon that Z had no regrets purchasing ( she had also grabbed a few for herself ). She handed it over and took a seat. “I knew you’d be here. These were purchased awhile ago, but I always knew who I was saving one bottle for.”

Juliette knew she was awful in many ways but there was nothing more enjoyable than hearing it when she handed out a present. With the woman in front of her, she knew it was a compliment. Her smile shifted to that of pleased before moving to walk all the way into the room. As the brunette disappeared to grab whatever she had to offer, she took a seat, letting her eyes wander over the décor. Much of it was the same as her own room. A few things were angled different, perhaps a different color or pattern but overall very similar.

She was pulled from her thoughts when a bag was offered up. Narrowing her eyes for a moment as if in suspicion, she placed the bag on her lap and could already tell it was a bottle of some kind. It was probably saying something about her, that she knew without looking but Jules couldn’t bring herself to care. Pulling the little decorative covering off the top of the bag she reached in, pleasantly surprised to find a bottle of champagne. Not just any but a 2002 Dom Perignon. Oh, she had known that year. It had been a perfect year for grapes in Champagne. She had the pleasure of having some from that year only a few months back. It had been pleasant.

“Oh you spoil me,” she teased lightly while her eyes looked the bottle over once more before placing it bag into the bag on to the side of her legs. Her body shifted to a more comfortable position, while blue eyes took in the woman across from her. Juliette hadn’t been counting the years but it had certainly been more than a few since she had seen her last. “What have I missed with you? Other than buying good bottles of champagne,” it was a truly curious question. A part of her actually wanted a little bit of an update. Most of the time Zah'ra didn’t travel the same places she did and it was always refreshing to hear something unique.

Any other conversation had the potential to be dangerous in the moment. Juliette wasn’t feeling particularly loyal and well, knew better than to be open about it.

Astor took a breath, lips wrapped around a cigarette, and pulled in as deep as physically possible, finally being able to fill his lungs with something other than salt. Ashton kept going on about how he needed to quit smoking, he was not going to be happy about the fact that he’d only kicked up the habit since coming to Tuscany. All the nicotine left behind was a slightly tingling sensation along the inside of his throat, which was much better than the awful taste the thick, ocean air left on the back of his tongue. He’d woken up to an empty carton, forgetting that he’d finished it off the night before while unpacking, and those first few hours without his precious poison felt like Hell.

As he exhaled that hit, he supposed it was possible he was taking out his extreme distaste for the situation they’d all found themselves in on a very small and unimportant detail. He’d thought of that upon waking, but it hadn’t stopped him from tip toeing around their apartment right after sunset as he pulled on his boots and turned the lock about three hours ago. It’d taken him awhile of walking the unfamiliar streets out of the estate and into the city to find a decent shop with the kind he liked, and now… he was honestly just wandering the streets, slightly lost along with his thoughts.

He knew she was staring before she spoke. A flash of blonde in the wind had caught his attention, and then those blues were revealed to him – Astor wasn’t the bit surprised when even from this distance they pierced. Juliette faded in and out, but she was always a curiosity… to say the least. He managed a half grin on his way to meet her, muscle memory pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. His reply started with an exhale, “You’re too kind, Juliette. I’m just waiting to see which of my skills come into play – then we’ll know if we’re playing nice or not.” He paused to take another puff, “But you being here as well, that’s something I saw coming.”

It was statements like the one Astor provided, that always seemed to get her mind twirling with thoughts. Predictability could be a dangerous thing in a game like the one she had been playing for hundreds of years. A fine line between stupid and cautious. Still, Juliette offered a small smile, one that was more like a twitch of her lips than anything else. “One has to know when to play to their strengths,” it was a cryptic mess but they weren’t friends so her thoughts were her own. Mm, just thinking about the idea of a friend was a foreign concept. She was pretty sure she had some as a human. Given the chance, however, she was certain she would eat them if they stood I front of her.

“As to your strengths I imagine, in due time, all of them will be required,” was added like a laugh before she inclined her head to see if he would walk with her. Now, just because they weren’t friends didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. The younger vampire was also just a little more interesting than some others of his age. Normally they were nothing but fodder for whatever scheme she was thinking of but she could make exceptions.

“How have the years been treating you,” she offered in a curious tone, trying to see what she could flush out without really putting too much effort. With a flip of her light coat in the wind, her body turned to begin to idly walk down the road.

“You’d be surprised how many lil bitches I speak to.”

  One good thing about the estate–it had a seemingly endless supply of wine, for the amount of immortals with fast metabolisms that were milling about. While Dimitri didn’t find it particularly healthy to seek out wine in excess, he had never been one to care about his health, which was how he found himself a half a bottle deep into wine in a room he’d never even seen before. It was one of the better things he did with his time nowadays, other than read old books and walk around the estate under cover of night, since he’d retired his pen from a few years ago.

  ( If he could only get his hands to stop shaking. )

  A moment of self-pity was interrupted by footsteps, making his heart pound beneath his chest as he could hear them draw in closer and closer, his hand grasping the bottle of wine as if to steel himself for attack. “If this is–your, um, your way of making an entrance, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that you moved as if you were a serial killer,” he commented, forcing a laugh all while his eyes scanned the exits, gauging how far he would get there.

There was certainly an upside to being in Tuscany, Italian wine. Her own personal wines she tended to have on her person were mostly French. Of course, they were more often than not her favorite but Juliette learned over the years that there was something beautiful in diversity. Even a Californian wine could be permissible in the right mood.  As it stood, she wanted to taste the sun on her tongue and there was nothing like the sun in Tuscany. Or so she could imagine. Just based on how beautiful the moon could be.

She could feel another presence but paid them no mind until the words serial killer entered her mind. It caused a slow twisting smile to pull at her lips. Weren’t they all serial killers in the end? As a vampire, eating people was certainly the norm. Well, for anyone with a healthy palette. That in many cases meant they killed often and perhaps indiscriminately. So, serial killers.

“I feel as if most of us are serial killers,” she voiced her thoughts gently, looking over the wine selections. Reading each one carefully before plucking her choice from the shelf. Juliette could practically taste the nerves the other must have been filled with. Taking a corkscrew and glass, she wasted no time in opening and pouring while searching her memory for a name. It wasn’t often she ran into a fellow vampire and didn’t know at least a name. Dimitri perhaps? It seemed to fit but she wouldn’t know for sure without more digging. Was she really in the mood to dig, however? Only time would tell. “Some are just more comfortable with it than others.”

After examining the small trinket, Marlowe sighed and tossed it onto the floor along with the rest of the junk they’d been playing with. They hadn’t expected to find anything particularly interesting among the personal items, but truthfully, they were bored. The lycan sat atop the still-made bed with a drink in hand, idly checking their phone for the umpteenth time. They knew the owner of the apartment had been doing something, but they should have been home by now. 

Too bad you couldn’t really expect someone to be on your schedule, after breaking into their home unannounced. 

Finally, Marlowe heard footsteps approach and stop outside the door. An expression of amusement rose to their face as they pictured the other, realizing someone was waiting for them on the other side of the threshold. The other was likely debating what to do, wondering who could possibly be waiting for them in the darkness. Marlowe remained sitting on the bed, a leather-clad leg coming up to cross over the other. Maybe realizing that it was a lycan awaiting them, and not a member of the IPU, the other found the courage to open the door. 

“Hello darling.” Marlowe offered, their signature smirk offering a hint of things to come. 

The day had been, trying. Each piece of it seemed to wish to find that last nerve Juliette was carefully hiding, only to step on it. Honestly, she couldn’t pinpoint what made her more prone to violence. Obvious idiocy or the idiots that had no idea they were as useless as they were. Rarely did she ever use the term – useless. Most days she could find something to do with someone. One way or another. If anything they could be convenient dead. That, however, was probably just a personal want.

Whatever thoughts she had dancing around her mind, stilled gently when she heard a heartbeat. Now, that wouldn’t be anything special if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was coming from her area. That certainly wasn’t how she left it. Hearts didn’t tend to keep going in her presence. Her legs didn’t stop their purposeful movement, even when she got to the door. The smell on the air was Lycan. It made her jaw clench and her teeth ache. Of course, the latter was from hunger. Even the blood of a dog could be useful in a pinch but she had to be good. Working on peace treaties and all that.

Opening her door gently, she could have sworn it was locked but in a world like theirs, locks didn’t really mean anything. Ignoring the mess as best she could, she stepped over things strewn about and made her way to the bedroom. There was a wolf on her bed, oh my, more importantly, it was a wolf she recognized. Their previous meetings had been brief over the years but they certainly left an impression. “It’s really quite rude digging through people’s belongings,” had it been anyone else, Juliette wouldn’t have been so curious. It wasn’t every day someone broke into her room.

“I can’t imagine you came here to only drink a finely aged wine,” was added with a tone of boredom, her body leaning against her own door frame as if it didn’t annoy her to no end that all of her carefully laid out things were no longer in their places. It had better be a good reason for them to be there.

Juliette was someone Ashton hasn’t crossed paths with before though some whispers and rumors precede her. Astor was one to know her but Ashton himself doesn’t know what to make of her yet. He was always wary of the unknown and she was no exception. As the door pulled open, there was a certain air of intimidation, nothing that was dangerous, but made him nervous. Perhaps it was the way her lips curved to a smile or the way she spoke so casually with a certain grace. 

Nonetheless Ashton returned a polite smile and laughed over the closet, “Well I’m pretty sure you could turn a room into a walk in pretty easily. I’m not sure if I can help you any other way in that regard, unless you need help.. with your closet?” He wasn’t sure himself what he was trying to get at, he could simply thank her and be on her way, but maybe it would be good to know this woman a little better. Though this was something he personally didn’t understand, being someone with little belongings. He could probably fit everything he owned in a box or two, everything else that mattered was long lost. “Sorry, manners. I’m Ashton,” He finally remembered introductions, extending a hand out for a handshake. Just because he knew her name didn’t mean she knew his, probably would be a nice relief for someone to not know his name.

Help, with her closet? That had to be one of the least expected things she imagined coming out of his mouth. How, refreshing. Quietly she wondered if he had much of a closet himself. Looking him over, she didn’t imagine so. Still, a person could be surprising and the few moments of him at her doorway wasn’t enough to make a good impression. Juliette loved impressions. “I suppose we can see what you have to offer,” she countered gently, the smile still playing on her lips. Keeping the tone of her words warm was going to be a bit of a workout but she was certain she could manage.

“Of course. I’m Juliette,” she offered her own hand out shaking his slowly. There was no power in her shake, nothing to show any sort of dominance per say, she something casual. Feeling the texture of his hands after moment caused a thought to strike her. “No touching,” was added as she let go of his hand but made room for him to walk into her area. Her heeled feet carried her to where she had everything sat out and organized. Most of it all laid out gently and neatly. Each piece ordered by color and style. To the watchful, it proved that she liked order in her life. For all of the chaos she caused in her many years, there was complete calculation behind each step.

“Are you enjoying Tuscany,” seemingly she tossed out her question carelessly, as she moved to pick up one of the champagne colored dress. Holding it up as if deciding where she should place it. His answer could tell her a lot of things without getting too detailed. The tone was everything.

There was a sort of childish excitement to be in the thick of things again. For someone so impatient, someone trained and conditioned to kill, managing to stay incognito for so long had left his hands itching for something to strangle. Not that he would dream of having such fun here, at least not yet. Since taking on his new alias, he’d been working small jobs, having to weave his web of vampire connections from scratch. Now in Italy, he closer to Keket than he’d been in centuries, probably too close for his liking, and he didn’t want to risk getting into too much trouble until he was sure he could handle it.

Not that he’d admit it, but a strong sense of paranoia had his sixth sense working overboard. Sharp jaw always clenched, calloused hands always fisted, but charisma never faltering. This was a good a time as any to make some new friends, Or reacquaint with old ones, it seemed. Most of the people at the peace talks hadn’t even been born when his was tried for treason, and those that were were supposed to be dissuaded by his new persona. All except for one.

It was late at night, hours after M’s speech, and he’d left his door and windows open, always able to think better with some fresh air. He should’ve felt the cold creeping in from a mile away, but that didn’t stop him from being startled when Juliette’s honeyed voice reached his ears. She’d closed the door behind her, most likely for the best. Mercer could have no one over hearing the conversation that would soon follow. Slowly, he turned around, expression calm despite the thick swallow choking it’s way down his throat. “I have been looking rather pale as of late. Shall we take a stroll outside tomorrow? Perhaps catch us some Vitamin D?” There was no beating around the bush with her. If she wanted to hurt him, a motive he doubted, she would have done it already. “Dead men tell no tales, dear Juliette. And I’m sure you’re here to hear plenty.”

Silently she wondered that if blood still flowed through her veins if she had been alive in all sense of the word, would her heart have skipped hearing a dead man’s voice? In many ways, Juliette hadn’t been close to the vampire standing in front of her. Well, perhaps close was a word that needed to be defined. They had conversations before. Enough of them for her to actually feel a twinge of annoyance when Mercer got caught. Labeled a traitor. Labeled for death. At the time he had been, perhaps the closest thing she had to a friend. There had been a part of her that felt betrayed in her own way. She had not known of his two-faced work. He had not told her. Young and still somewhat foolish, she had been. Times changed, however, and with them, it seemed that people came back from that grave they were meant to be in.

“I was never much for the sun,” she retorted smoothly, moving towards a chair to impose upon the man her mere presence. “I found it was terrible for my complexion,” was added as she took a seat, shifting her hair over her shoulder to keep it from touching the chair. It had been too long since she had been able to read him. Was he nervous? Had he expected her to be there? Truly if he was any good he would have known she would be present. Was he hoping that old age made him nothing but a figment of her mind? All of it was just speculation. It drove Jules up a wall. Not knowing was her least favorite.

“Oh Mercer, I can only imagine the stories you could tell me but let’s see how much I can guess,” her body shifted into something more comfortable rather than proper, her hand tapping her knee as if in thought. “After your discovery, things went downhill quickly,” she tried to keep her voice even but the distaste of him being caught was clear. “Instead of facing death, you found another way out. Perhaps by your own hand. Perhaps not,” she would have, after all. Can’t fault him for that. “From there you lived a life of lies and secrecy. Maybe made yourself useful to the Lycans,” her words stopped as she paused to look at him for a moment. Taking in the changes before offering a ghost of a smile. Juliette hadn’t missed who he walked near when he came to the estate.

“Stop me when I get something wrong,” it was a soft sigh of a challenge. Boredom forcing its way around her words on purpose. Juliette wanted to hear every word he could provide but didn’t wish too sound excited. “Can’t have my mind’s vision of you being incomplete.”

To be honest, Ashton has no idea why he’s been sent here for this truce. He wasn’t of much use here, and it was confusing. The quietness and lycans and humans around with awkward idle chatter was unsettling. They’ve moved in on the very first day together with those that came from Moscow and Ashton have been really antsy with no direction. He needed a purpose, he needed orders, and he’s pestered Jonathan long enough for the leader to take pity, being hounded once more outside the conference room after M made her speech, and gave Ashton some minuscule work to do around the estate. Take the list of residences and check up on them, keep tabs, make sure anyone who is supposed to be in is and who isn’t suppose to be here, isn’t. It’s not a fight, but it’s something. And Ashton hungrily took it, a small relief to keep him on a task. 

He took his time with it, knowing it was a pity order and Jonathan probably won’t need any report any time soon, the humans maybe so. But he worked his way around the building, gingerly knocking on doors as he did now, going through the list of people, some more familiar than others. When a door opens, Ashton peeked up from the list in hand to greet with a small smile, lowering his head, “Hi, I’m here to just make sure you’re settled in. And I hope you have no problems?”

There was something to be said about acting like she cared. Forcing herself to swallow her pride and seem as if the potential accord that could come between the immortal peoples was a hard pill to swallow. It wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was to have them bending to her words. She wanted humans to keep their grubby little hands out of business that was for their betters. Wanted to make people suffer for ignoring her well-placed baby bumpers to herd people where she would have liked them to be. But no, no that isn’t what she was getting. Instead, she was being given a mysterious ‘M’. She wanted to rip their heart out with her bare hands. She could lick the blood off her fingers slowly, savor it on her tongue.

Instead, she stood in front of a closet organizing the clothing the way she liked it. She had already organized the books she had brought from her area in Montreal. Of course, she didn’t bring everything. All the eggs in one basket and what not. No, Juliette brought enough to show her participation. Her want to make things work out. Want was such a difficult word for her in the moment. Her thunderous thoughts were abruptly stopped by a knock. Forcing the curl in her lips to smooth out, she schooled her features as she turned on a heel and opened the door with a brisk ease.

Familiarity was the first thing to hit her. He was familiar but that was nothing new. It was part of her position in the world to know people. So, a soft curve of her lips was offered, barely there but just enough to seem interested. “Well hello,” she greeted quickly. Her turn of phrase seemed flirtatious but held no true playful quality. “I would say everything was going perfectly but the closet is terrible. For a place so beautiful you would think they could afford a  walk in for all guests,” each word was set up to show her in a specific light. Someone like her obviously wasn’t a threat. 

Even looking at the shops didn’t quell the anger that curled low in the pit of her stomach. Distraction wouldn’t work. A measured breath was pulled through her lungs, her eyes closing as she forced herself to find a center. It didn’t do well to act rashly. Slow, measured calculations were the best options. Plans, with many back up plans. Careful planning would get her what she wanted. It hadn’t failed her in all the years she had lived. Jules flicked her eyes open, prepared to cross the street before a familiar form caught her eye.

Of course he would have made it. Someone like him was always needed. Even when children wanted them to play nice. Honestly, nice could be a quick and painless death. Still, seeing him at her body moving towards his direction. Jules’ curiosity tugging at her senses. Astor had been something those years ago when they had met. What that something had been was still elusive to her. Now, that didn’t mean she didn’t have time to find out. Suddenly so many people being forced together sounded a little more, interesting.

“Astor, what a pleasant surprise,” slid off her tongue with warmth cooling around each syllable. It was easy to infuse words with such a thing when she put in the effort. “Well, perhaps not so surprising. Someone with your skills is always valuable. Even when people are meant to be playing nice.” There was that word again. Such a silly word.

It’s what found her walking through with a purpose, heels clicking ominously as she went along. Her destination was a special target. It had been a l o n g time since she had seen his face. Excitement tinged her thoughts as she came upon her target. Not every day someone got to look at a dead man. Well, not in the same sense at least. If her heat could skip it would have. The blonde changed the severity of her walk, let the sounds turn into something soft – his door was open.

“You know it is a little strange,” her words were low, meant to be heard as if whispered intimately. Long legs carried her in without even trying to wait for an invitation. A hand quietly pulling the door closed behind her. After all, no surveillance in the suites. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you have the face of a dead man,” unlike so many of her other moves on the chess board, her words were said like a battering ram. There was something to be said about shock and awe.

Pushing her displeasure aside, she focused on the moment at hand. Such a meeting of immortals would bring around people that were actually of use or in the least interesting. In that very specific moment, she could think of one name. Zah’ra. It had been years since she had seen the other vampire and there was a part of her that actually held excitement to lay eyes on her. 

It had been easy getting finding where Z had situated herself on the property. With a greeting gift in hand, she knocked on the door quickly, a smirk twisting her lips at the thought of actually seeing the other woman in the flesh. “Glad to see the years didn’t keep you,” was out of her lips the moment the door was opened, her icy eyes surely sparkled with enjoyment as she held out the little gift. 

“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” was added as she leaned long limbs against the door frame, waiting for her invitation.They were elegant jewels for someone she knew would appreciate them. They weren’t her usual style but with her profession, it was easy to get her hands on them. On her they weren’t enough but on Z, they would look divine.