#eventuallyyyyy

It’s far safer to travel in a group, Kaoru knows, but he slips away from the caravan of traders he’s travelled here with to explore the city for himself.

He looks up, losing himself in the stars as he walks along the waterfront. Gondolas drift by in his periphery, and Italian chatter spills out of open windows as he meanders along the walkway.

A hand on his arm startles Kaoru out of his reverie, and the shine of the moon on the water disappears as he’s pulled into a dark alley and a hand is slapped over his mouth.

“Just what the hell are you?” and Kaoru’s staring into angry wine-dark eyes with his own eyes open wide, and Carla says “Oh, fuck,” in his head, and then—

His mouth is moving but Kaoru’s not speaking. He can see his hands coming up to grip the stranger’s shirt tight, but he’s not moving them. He can feel his own face twist into a smirk and a leer but he’s not the one doing it, what is this—

Carla chuckles, deep and low, and the sound comes from Kaoru’s throat. “Oh, you are a pretty one, aren’t you? What are you? Werewolf? No, you’re far too cold for that. A lost soul, then, clinging to a life it has no claim of? Or,” and Carla leans in close and brushes the stranger’s hair away from their neck, revealing two light scars dotting the flesh just behind the jugular.

“Oh, how interesting,” Carla purrs with Kaoru’s tongue. “A vampire, here in Venice? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, your kind loves the waterfront—”

The vampire shoves Kaoru, no, Carla, into the stone wall behind them, and steps back. “Well, you know what I am. Now answer my damn question: what are you?”

Carla crosses Kaoru’s arms — and Kaoru does not like the feeling why can’t he control his limbs — and tilts Kaoru’s head. “My name is Carla. I’ve struck a deal with this mortal, so now I get to use his body.”

The stranger’s eyes narrow. “A demon, I should have known by your stink—”

Kaoru protests in his head, but the words never pass his lips. Carla cuts the stranger off with a laugh. “Oh, come now, love, the boy and I have our deal. He agreed to this, and he gets what he wants out of the bargain. There’s no need for such insults, especially not when I know every weakness your kind has.”

In a flurry of movement, Carla has the vampire pinned to the wall, Kaoru’s dagger held to his throat. “It’s made of steel, to be sure, but beheading works just as well as a stake through the heart. But I’m sure we’d both rather this not end in violence — surely, this city is big enough for the both of us, at least for the next few days? We’ve got enough problems from all the humans slinking about; if they catch onto either one of us, it’s bad news for us both. So, what do you say? Truce?”

The stranger grits his teeth and nods curtly. “Truce.”

Carla nods and pulls away, sheathing Kaoru’s dagger in one fluid motion. “I’ve told you my name already, and the boy’s name is Kaoru.”

“Kojiro,” the vampire says. He narrows his eyes as he looks Carla up and down.

“Let me out,” Kaoru says, but the words never pass his lips, and Carla’s voice resonates around him in his head. It rumbles in the dark space Kaoru is in, shaking every fiber of his soul as she croons, “Hush, now, all in due time.”

“Kojiro,” Carla says aloud, and she taps Kaoru’s lips with a finger in thought. “Well, in the name of our truce, what say I buy you a drink?”

Kojiro rolls his eyes. “And you claim to know so much about vampires.”

“Not alcohol, moron.” Carla turns back to the water and the moonlight shining on the river’s surface. “We demons have quite a network already established, one that can even benefit you vampires.”

They end up at a dingy pub. Kojiro claims a booth while Carla speaks with the bartender. She asks for two glasses of wine, “One red and one darker,” she says. The bartender pauses and looks at her, locks eyes with her for a moment, then nods and turns away. He comes back with two glasses, one with wine and one with a thicker, deep red liquid. Carla takes the glasses, and the thicker liquid clings to the side of the glass as it shifts. Kaoru realizes with horror that the liquid is blood.

Carla brings the glasses and slides the glass of blood over to Kojiro. He sniffs at it, eyes narrowed in suspicion. His eyes widen as he looks at it.

“Huh,” he says. “You actually got human blood.”

Carla lifts up her wine glass. “Like I said — connections. Alla tua.”