Fic: Virales en Crux 1/? (Cara/Kahlan, NC-17)
Title: Virales en Crux
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17 (eventual)
Summary: AU inspired by xxmisssassyxx 's manips, found here
Warnings: VIOLENCE, blood (it's a vampire fic, so... yeah.)
AN: Latin is not Latin. It's based off of Latin, but it's not. *cough because I have no idea how to conjugate Latin verbs cough cough*
Chapter One
"Virales en crux. Exhain inimicex tuum. Ostrend non mercordia. A deficier a mori."
A hood was lowered. A pale face revealed. Blood-red lips curled just enough to be thought to smile. Golden eyes shone without emotion as a ceremonial dagger was raised.
"Qum sacrificie, qum crux innocentes, quaerus vitae immortalis."
"Don't! Please!"
Impassioned pleas fell on deaf ears as the one with the dagger plunged it into the heart of the sacrifical offering, then spread her arms wide, chin tilted up toward the cathedral ceiling. "Convivus!"
A dozen robed, hooded figures converged upon the body, drinking from shallow cuts on arms and legs while the blood was still warm, and when they backed away, satisfied, then came a dozen more. And a dozen more after that.
Cara raised her hood and bent to place a kiss upon the dead girl's forehead, leaving a dark red outline of her mouth as she straightened.
A figure joined her at the head of the altar, to her left. "I think your first sacrifice went well, don't you?"
Cara regarded him, her head tilted, gold eyes burning into his darker amber ones. "My first official sacrifice," she said in a haunting voice. "And yes, it went well."
The man offered a brief nod in acknowledgement of what she said, and how true he knew it to be. While it had been her first ceremonial sacrifice, it had not been her first kill. Not by far. Her appetite was legendary among the clan, and she lived up to every word of that legend.
He waited, surveyed the feasting creatures, and turned back to her. "Dark times are upon us, Cara."
"We bring the dark times, My Lord."
He folded his hands in front of his billowing robes. His face showed gentle amusement. "That we do, Cara. That we do."
--
Kahlan came down from the stage amidst applause, cheers, and whistles, bowing as she descended the short block of stairs into the crowd. "Thank you!" she yelled, then tossed her microphone back up onto the stage as she worked her way through screaming fans to the bar, flanked by two bodyguards.
"What'll it be, Ms. Amnell?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands on a towel hanging at his waist. "The usual?"
"The usual," Kahlan nodded, reaching out her hand for the Stella and handing it to one of her bodyguards, who opened it with his teeth and handed it back.
Mostly, the fans knew not to get too close, but once in awhile a flailing teenager decided to try his or her luck, and Kahlan was always gracious about it, being polite but never inviting.
A sweating, panting young man flopped onto the barstool next to her, and she steeled herself to ward off a drunken advance, but to her surprise, he ignored her and ordered a drink. Naturally, that made her want to talk to him. Maybe that was his plan and she was falling straight into it, but she forged ahead anyway. "Hey."
The gentleman turned his head, tilted it and studied her. She was caught off-guard by the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes, and unnerved by the way he stared silently. It was not the scrutiny of a fan, nor was it the admiration of a suitor, but something cold and foreign that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Before she had time to think on it further, he had swept up his beer and vanished. She couldn't even tell which direction he'd gone. Annoyed, she stood on her barstool to try to catch a glimpse, but he was simply gone. As if he'd never been there to begin with.
"Girl, what the hell are you doin'?" one of her bodyguards yelled over the pulsing dance music now filtering through the club, dragging her back down to sit. "You lost your fuckin' mind?"
"Did you see where that guy went?" she asked, still craning her neck in an attempt to locate the mystery man.
Chase grunted. "No. And I'm glad you didn't, either."
Kahlan frowned at him. "You'd be happy if I never left the house," she said, tossing back a swallow of her beer.
"Damn right I would. Less trouble to get into that way."
"Yeah, and less of a life to have," Kahlan argued, frustrated, draining the rest of her beer in one long go.
"You're the one who chose a life of glitz and glamour," Chase reminded her. "I'm just along for the ride."
Kahlan's mood darkened considerably, and she pushed to her feet, leaving Chase and Riley behind as she wove out onto the dance floor, picking up with the first decently skilled person she saw, who happened to be a woman about her own age.
"Wow, I can't believe you're dancing with me," the woman said, obviously in awe.
At least she wasn't shrieking, or screaming 'OMG!'. "Don't treat me like a rockstar or I won't be," Kahlan said, sliding her hands over the woman's waist and swaying her hips to the beat. "I just want to be normal tonight."
The woman clearly had a hard time with that, but nodded that she would attempt it. "Okay," she shouted over the music, bringing her arms up and laying them on Kahlan's shoulders, hands clasped loosely behind the singer's neck.
"What's your name?" Kahlan asked, leaning closer so she didn't have to yell.
"Alexandra," the woman replied. "What's yours?"
Kahlan blinked. "You know my name..."
Alexandra smiled at her, looking up from under thick black lashes. "You said you wanted to be normal tonight."
That made Kahlan grin, more than she had in a long time. "I'm Kahlan."
They danced for awhile, and at one point stopped for some drinks. Kahlan paid, insisting on it since she already had a tab running, and led Alexandra to a corner booth, a ways away from the dance floor.
"So, what do you do?" she asked as she sipped her beer, sliding into the booth next to the woman.
"I'm a teacher," Alexandra replied, surprised at Kahlan's choice of seating. Rather boldly, she lifted her hand and ran a finger over one of the tattoos on the singer's upper back, left exposed by the halter top she wore. "Who's this?" she asked, tracing the outline of the character.
Kahlan picked at the label of her beer, lips pursing as she thought about whether to answer. She could refuse, and let Alexandra think it was a lover. Finally she shrugged, finishing off her beer and pushing the bottle across the table. "She died," she said, standing and pulling the woman with her. "Come on. Dance with me some more."
Alexandra faltered a little, setting her drink down quickly as she was dragged back onto the dance floor and pulled tightly against Kahlan's body. When she felt the singer's knee push between her legs, she gasped, looking up into clouded green eyes. What she saw was a woman who wanted to forget she was famous, just for a night, and not have to worry about consequences. She didn't think she was someone who could provide that, but there was no harm in dancing.
When lips found her neck, heated breath in her ear, Alexandra's eyes popped open and she gently pushed the singer back, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry Kahlan, I can't-- I'm not-- I, I don't..." She really hoped Kahlan would understand what she was trying to say.
"No worries," Kahlan said casually, carefully hiding any sign of a reaction as she shrugged and put some distance between them, continuing to dance. She knew she was blushing, but the light was dim, and hopefully it wouldn't be noticed.
"You're really beautiful, I'm just not... I mean, I'm straight," Alexandra finally stammered, noticing the singer's blush and hoping to make her feel better. "If I wasn't straight, I'd be dying to--"
"Really, it's okay," Kahlan said, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have done that without asking, anyway. I guess I'm getting caught up in the anonymity of dancing in a crowded club."
"Don't worry, I'll still be a fan," Alexandra said with a blush of her own.
Kahlan laughed, tension easing a little, and gave the woman a playful shove. "All right, I'm gonna get some air. It was nice to meet you, Alexandra."
"Nice to meet you too, Kahlan."
With a smile, Kahlan turned and headed for the back door of the club. She was one of a handful of people allowed to use it, so when she stepped out into the alley and came across a circle of people chanting quietly, she knew there was something off. She turned to go back inside, but the way was blocked. She hadn't even seen anyone move. With a gasp, she jumped backward, but then recognized the young man from the bar earlier, and her fear leveled out, riding a plateau. "You," she said, staring intently at his eyes.
"Leaving so soon?" His voice was a rough hiss. Not at all like the one he'd used to order a drink before.
"I was about to, until I realized it was you," Kahlan said with a smirk, trying not to show her fear. Now that they were so close, and with the moon's glow filtering down to them, she could see how pale his face was, and the dark red of his lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'm all for emo, but--"
In a flash, his face was at her neck, nuzzling her, sniffing her hair and her skin, making her freeze in sudden, intrigued terror. If she wanted an adventure, this was the crowd to do it with.
"Do I smell good?" she asked, somehow managing to make her voice come out sounding bored.
"You smell like iron," the young man said. "Sweet, tempting iron."
"That's a little creepy, but considering I just got rejected by a school teacher, I'm open to any kind of compliments."
He opened his mouth to speak, but flew across the alley, crashing into the brick wall on the other side, and by the time Kahlan forced her eyes away from his recovering form, she found she couldn't move.
"Qui agix hic?" a voice hissed at her, and she snapped her eyes forward, into the hard golden gaze of a decidedly female figure, covered head to toe in black hooded robes, except for her face, which was shrouded in shadow.
She swallowed, hard. "I don't speak--"
"Leave," the woman whispered in english, pulling open the door Kahlan had emerged from, and the singer had no choice but to obey, as her feet moved without permission from her brain.
When the door slammed, Cara spun on her clan, eyes narrowed. She scanned each of their faces, finally moving to James, who was still standing across the alley, leaning against the wall she'd thrown him to. "Our Lord will not be pleased," she said in a soft, steel-coated voice. "You have forced us to make contact with a human that is not pure."
James shrugged. "She approached me, not the other way around."
Cara stepped toward him. "She is not pure."
"So what? We have a little fun with her, kill her, nobody's the wiser."
"You would drink impure blood?"
He shrank a little at that. "Of course not, Sister, I merely meant--"
"You're a little idiot," Cara interrupted, flicking her wrist toward him, pinning him against the wall. "I should draw her out and let you feed. The impurity will not go unnoticed by Lord Rahl, and he will kill you. Then I would be rid of your stupidity."
James looked afraid. No one wanted to cross Sister Cara. "Please, Sister. I will be more prudent in the future, you have my word."
Cara considered him, finger to her lips, and as she was about to make a decision, the door behind her slammed open, and she whirled around, coming face to face with the human. "I told you to leave," she repeated, golden eyes boring into green.
Kahlan's heart leapt into her chest, and she questioned herself for the hundredth time, but something about these people drew her in. "I go where I please," she finally answered, when her vocal chords would work. She was transfixed by the woman's beauty, as much as she had been tranfsixed by the young man's handsome charm.
Cara's nostrils flared at the woman's scent. "You do not realize the danger you have put yourself in by coming out here." She spoke in a hushed tone, venom flooding her mouth as she swallowed it back.
"Maybe you shouldn't be doing dangerous things out back of a public club if you don't want any visitors," Kahlan suggested.
"You are a foolish girl."
"Girl? I'm older than you are," Kahlan said, raising her eyebrows.
Cara allowed herself an indulgent smirk as a raven squawked overhead. "That, girl, is doubtful."
Irritated, Kahlan flicked her gaze over the rest of the cloaked figures, then back to the woman. "Did I miss the memo for 'twin day'? Why are you all dressed the same?"
"You find yourself amusing," Cara said quietly. "However, like I said, it is dangerous out here for you. You should return to your shelter."
"What about you? You're out here with a bunch of men, why isn't it dangerous for you?"
Cara almost laughed in surprise. "Your concern is touching, however misguided."
"So, you mean to say you think you're tougher than me. I get it. Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? All I am is this... this... famous singer, who everyone thinks they love but none actually do, who people put up on this ridiculous pedestal and treat like a goddess just because she can open her mouth and put music to words, and who nobody really cares about or wants to get to know. So why wouldn't you be tougher than me? Come on. Kick my ass, then."
Cara stood, stunned. Never had a human been unafraid of her, nor had she encountered anyone, human or otherwise, who made such an outpouring of sarcastic anger and projection. Something twitched within her and she put it down sharply. "You would not live to regret that challenge, were I to accept it," she said darkly, hoping to intimidate the human into walking away.
"Well aren't you a badass," Kahlan said, moving closer.
Cara didn't move back quickly enough, and the human's proximity made her fangs extend, venom once again flooding her mouth, urging her to strike.
"Woah," Kahlan said, backing up quickly, holding her hands out in surrender. "Challenge withdrawn." When she bumped into the door, she reached behind herself almost frantically to grab the doorknob and yank it open, then disappeared inside, practically running down the corridor and back into the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor. What. The. Hell.
Cara stared after her, waiting for the relief to come, but it didn't. Puzzled, she realized she was displeased. She was used to humans and creatures of the night alike being afraid of her because of her attitude and abilities. She liked it that way. But being judged for what she was, being judged for having fangs, for being different, that she wasn't used to. That she didn't like. That, she realized with a frown, offended her.
James watched as Cara leapt up onto the stone wall at the back of the alley and disappeared over the other side. "We'd best not follow her," he told the others. "Not when she's in a mood."
"You put her in a mood, you idiot," a man with eyes nearly black spoke up.
"Fuck off," James scoffed. "None of you did anything to help."
"Because we want to keep our heads," another, younger man mumbled.
--
Cara took her time walking the city, reveling in familiar, comforting sights and smells. Wet grass, freshly mowed, the high school football field. Roses, pink, in half-bloom, Mrs. Rodriguez's front yard. Acrid booze and unlcean humans, the corner of 3rd and Stanedge. The pumping blood of virgins, her favorite smell, night mass at St. Andrew's Holy Trinity.
She slipped into the church, standing against the back wall, eyes scanning the gathered members of the congregation until they lit on someone interesting, and she slowly approached the young man's pew, crossing herself as she reached it, and slid into the pew, kneeling beside him in prayer.
She could feel his apprehension, crackling like electricity in the air between them. "You know what I want," she whispered.
"Mistress Cara, I haven't had time," he stammered, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes darting about nervously, palms sweating.
Simmering golden eyes turned on him, though her expression remained calm. "You have until tomorrow evening, or I will slit your throat with my fingernail and watch you bleed to death on this hallowed carpeting."
His face paled as he wiped his hands on his khaki pants, nodding vigorously. "Of course, Mistress Cara, it will be done," he choked out.
She crossed herself, rose, and left the church.
--
"Cara," Lord Rahl said with a patronizing smile, steepling his fingers together as she approached. "I hear we had our feelings hurt tonight."
Cara's gaze could have cut steel. "The only reason I allow you to be my Lord is out of respect for our mutual Sire. We both know the minions would follow me to the depths of hell and back before they'd take one step in line behind you. So don't push me."
"Cara, Cara," he shook his head, stroking one hand down his goatee. "So touchy these days. I wonder if I might offer you a--"
"Silentium!" she roared, extending her arms toward him, sending him into the wall with a burst of impacted air. Tendrils of black veins curled around her jaw, shooting up the sides of her face in blooming patterns as she strode toward the helpless creature, infecting the whites of her eyes with morbid, black disease. Snakes uncoiled from her sleeves, slithering around Lord Rahl's neck and squeezing until he could not breathe. "Qui fas irascitum?" she asked, her voice booming throughout the cavernous alcove, though she was no longer yelling.
"Ignosce..." he rasped as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Cara released the snakes, and no longer bound by her will, they dispersed and slithered off into the shadows. She watched with indifference as Lord Rahl gasped and spluttered for breath, clutching his throat desperately. "This will be the last time I forgive your insolence," she hissed, her features smooth porcelain once again, her eyes their typical gold flanked by white.
--
There had to be some explanation for what she'd seen, Kahlan thought, as she let the hot shower spray wash over her. People didn't fly across alleys and grow fangs, they just... didn't. Maybe it was a theater group, and she'd stumbled into a rehearsal for... Peter Pan meets Dracula. God, no. They weren't a theater group. They were... magicians, maybe.
She resolved to just forget it, and never think about it again, but everyone knows that trying not to think of something is useless. She scrubbed her face, trying to clean away the image of razor-sharp canines and haunting gold eyes, but that was useless too.
She pressed a kiss to her fingertip and reached around to touch it to the tattoo covering her left shoulder blade. "Love you, Mama," she whispered, stepping out of the shower and taking her towel from the rack, wrapping it around herself.
When she turned to face the sink, she screamed. A message stood out on the fogged mirror, like in cheesy horror movies she'd watched and hated.
We're watching you.
"What the fuck!" she yelled, angrily scrubbing out the message by wiping the mirror dry.
She dressed quickly and grabbed a baseball bat, searching her apartment thoroughly, but found nothing missing, and no trace of an intruder, until she noticed a string of ivory rosary beads on her pillow. She wasn't Catholic.
She left the beads where they were and called the police. She wasn't going to be the brainless movie character who wanted to investigate things on her own and ended up killed.
--
"We found no prints on the beads, Ma'am, only small traces of blood belonging to a missing girl."
"What?!"
"Emma Chase, do you know her?"
Kahlan racked her brain, coming up empty. "No, I have no idea... but I'm not Catholic. Those are Catholic beads, right? Rosary beads?"
The detective nodded. "They have the logo of St. Andrew's Holy Trinity engraved on the back of the cross."
"I've never been inside, but I've driven by. It's in the neighborhood. This doesn't make any sense. How can there be no prints, and why did someone break in here just to leave me a message and some beads belonging to a missing girl I don't know?"
"We're looking into it, Ms. Amnell," the detective assured her, pulling out his card and handing it over. "Here's my card, please call us if you notice anything else out of the ordinary."
Kahlan punched the closet door after they were gone. This was not the type of adventure she had been hoping for. And the police had taken her pillow.
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17 (eventual)
Summary: AU inspired by xxmisssassyxx 's manips, found here
Warnings: VIOLENCE, blood (it's a vampire fic, so... yeah.)
AN: Latin is not Latin. It's based off of Latin, but it's not. *cough because I have no idea how to conjugate Latin verbs cough cough*
Chapter One
"Virales en crux. Exhain inimicex tuum. Ostrend non mercordia. A deficier a mori."
A hood was lowered. A pale face revealed. Blood-red lips curled just enough to be thought to smile. Golden eyes shone without emotion as a ceremonial dagger was raised.
"Qum sacrificie, qum crux innocentes, quaerus vitae immortalis."
"Don't! Please!"
Impassioned pleas fell on deaf ears as the one with the dagger plunged it into the heart of the sacrifical offering, then spread her arms wide, chin tilted up toward the cathedral ceiling. "Convivus!"
A dozen robed, hooded figures converged upon the body, drinking from shallow cuts on arms and legs while the blood was still warm, and when they backed away, satisfied, then came a dozen more. And a dozen more after that.
Cara raised her hood and bent to place a kiss upon the dead girl's forehead, leaving a dark red outline of her mouth as she straightened.
A figure joined her at the head of the altar, to her left. "I think your first sacrifice went well, don't you?"
Cara regarded him, her head tilted, gold eyes burning into his darker amber ones. "My first official sacrifice," she said in a haunting voice. "And yes, it went well."
The man offered a brief nod in acknowledgement of what she said, and how true he knew it to be. While it had been her first ceremonial sacrifice, it had not been her first kill. Not by far. Her appetite was legendary among the clan, and she lived up to every word of that legend.
He waited, surveyed the feasting creatures, and turned back to her. "Dark times are upon us, Cara."
"We bring the dark times, My Lord."
He folded his hands in front of his billowing robes. His face showed gentle amusement. "That we do, Cara. That we do."
--
Kahlan came down from the stage amidst applause, cheers, and whistles, bowing as she descended the short block of stairs into the crowd. "Thank you!" she yelled, then tossed her microphone back up onto the stage as she worked her way through screaming fans to the bar, flanked by two bodyguards.
"What'll it be, Ms. Amnell?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands on a towel hanging at his waist. "The usual?"
"The usual," Kahlan nodded, reaching out her hand for the Stella and handing it to one of her bodyguards, who opened it with his teeth and handed it back.
Mostly, the fans knew not to get too close, but once in awhile a flailing teenager decided to try his or her luck, and Kahlan was always gracious about it, being polite but never inviting.
A sweating, panting young man flopped onto the barstool next to her, and she steeled herself to ward off a drunken advance, but to her surprise, he ignored her and ordered a drink. Naturally, that made her want to talk to him. Maybe that was his plan and she was falling straight into it, but she forged ahead anyway. "Hey."
The gentleman turned his head, tilted it and studied her. She was caught off-guard by the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes, and unnerved by the way he stared silently. It was not the scrutiny of a fan, nor was it the admiration of a suitor, but something cold and foreign that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Before she had time to think on it further, he had swept up his beer and vanished. She couldn't even tell which direction he'd gone. Annoyed, she stood on her barstool to try to catch a glimpse, but he was simply gone. As if he'd never been there to begin with.
"Girl, what the hell are you doin'?" one of her bodyguards yelled over the pulsing dance music now filtering through the club, dragging her back down to sit. "You lost your fuckin' mind?"
"Did you see where that guy went?" she asked, still craning her neck in an attempt to locate the mystery man.
Chase grunted. "No. And I'm glad you didn't, either."
Kahlan frowned at him. "You'd be happy if I never left the house," she said, tossing back a swallow of her beer.
"Damn right I would. Less trouble to get into that way."
"Yeah, and less of a life to have," Kahlan argued, frustrated, draining the rest of her beer in one long go.
"You're the one who chose a life of glitz and glamour," Chase reminded her. "I'm just along for the ride."
Kahlan's mood darkened considerably, and she pushed to her feet, leaving Chase and Riley behind as she wove out onto the dance floor, picking up with the first decently skilled person she saw, who happened to be a woman about her own age.
"Wow, I can't believe you're dancing with me," the woman said, obviously in awe.
At least she wasn't shrieking, or screaming 'OMG!'. "Don't treat me like a rockstar or I won't be," Kahlan said, sliding her hands over the woman's waist and swaying her hips to the beat. "I just want to be normal tonight."
The woman clearly had a hard time with that, but nodded that she would attempt it. "Okay," she shouted over the music, bringing her arms up and laying them on Kahlan's shoulders, hands clasped loosely behind the singer's neck.
"What's your name?" Kahlan asked, leaning closer so she didn't have to yell.
"Alexandra," the woman replied. "What's yours?"
Kahlan blinked. "You know my name..."
Alexandra smiled at her, looking up from under thick black lashes. "You said you wanted to be normal tonight."
That made Kahlan grin, more than she had in a long time. "I'm Kahlan."
They danced for awhile, and at one point stopped for some drinks. Kahlan paid, insisting on it since she already had a tab running, and led Alexandra to a corner booth, a ways away from the dance floor.
"So, what do you do?" she asked as she sipped her beer, sliding into the booth next to the woman.
"I'm a teacher," Alexandra replied, surprised at Kahlan's choice of seating. Rather boldly, she lifted her hand and ran a finger over one of the tattoos on the singer's upper back, left exposed by the halter top she wore. "Who's this?" she asked, tracing the outline of the character.
Kahlan picked at the label of her beer, lips pursing as she thought about whether to answer. She could refuse, and let Alexandra think it was a lover. Finally she shrugged, finishing off her beer and pushing the bottle across the table. "She died," she said, standing and pulling the woman with her. "Come on. Dance with me some more."
Alexandra faltered a little, setting her drink down quickly as she was dragged back onto the dance floor and pulled tightly against Kahlan's body. When she felt the singer's knee push between her legs, she gasped, looking up into clouded green eyes. What she saw was a woman who wanted to forget she was famous, just for a night, and not have to worry about consequences. She didn't think she was someone who could provide that, but there was no harm in dancing.
When lips found her neck, heated breath in her ear, Alexandra's eyes popped open and she gently pushed the singer back, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry Kahlan, I can't-- I'm not-- I, I don't..." She really hoped Kahlan would understand what she was trying to say.
"No worries," Kahlan said casually, carefully hiding any sign of a reaction as she shrugged and put some distance between them, continuing to dance. She knew she was blushing, but the light was dim, and hopefully it wouldn't be noticed.
"You're really beautiful, I'm just not... I mean, I'm straight," Alexandra finally stammered, noticing the singer's blush and hoping to make her feel better. "If I wasn't straight, I'd be dying to--"
"Really, it's okay," Kahlan said, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have done that without asking, anyway. I guess I'm getting caught up in the anonymity of dancing in a crowded club."
"Don't worry, I'll still be a fan," Alexandra said with a blush of her own.
Kahlan laughed, tension easing a little, and gave the woman a playful shove. "All right, I'm gonna get some air. It was nice to meet you, Alexandra."
"Nice to meet you too, Kahlan."
With a smile, Kahlan turned and headed for the back door of the club. She was one of a handful of people allowed to use it, so when she stepped out into the alley and came across a circle of people chanting quietly, she knew there was something off. She turned to go back inside, but the way was blocked. She hadn't even seen anyone move. With a gasp, she jumped backward, but then recognized the young man from the bar earlier, and her fear leveled out, riding a plateau. "You," she said, staring intently at his eyes.
"Leaving so soon?" His voice was a rough hiss. Not at all like the one he'd used to order a drink before.
"I was about to, until I realized it was you," Kahlan said with a smirk, trying not to show her fear. Now that they were so close, and with the moon's glow filtering down to them, she could see how pale his face was, and the dark red of his lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'm all for emo, but--"
In a flash, his face was at her neck, nuzzling her, sniffing her hair and her skin, making her freeze in sudden, intrigued terror. If she wanted an adventure, this was the crowd to do it with.
"Do I smell good?" she asked, somehow managing to make her voice come out sounding bored.
"You smell like iron," the young man said. "Sweet, tempting iron."
"That's a little creepy, but considering I just got rejected by a school teacher, I'm open to any kind of compliments."
He opened his mouth to speak, but flew across the alley, crashing into the brick wall on the other side, and by the time Kahlan forced her eyes away from his recovering form, she found she couldn't move.
"Qui agix hic?" a voice hissed at her, and she snapped her eyes forward, into the hard golden gaze of a decidedly female figure, covered head to toe in black hooded robes, except for her face, which was shrouded in shadow.
She swallowed, hard. "I don't speak--"
"Leave," the woman whispered in english, pulling open the door Kahlan had emerged from, and the singer had no choice but to obey, as her feet moved without permission from her brain.
When the door slammed, Cara spun on her clan, eyes narrowed. She scanned each of their faces, finally moving to James, who was still standing across the alley, leaning against the wall she'd thrown him to. "Our Lord will not be pleased," she said in a soft, steel-coated voice. "You have forced us to make contact with a human that is not pure."
James shrugged. "She approached me, not the other way around."
Cara stepped toward him. "She is not pure."
"So what? We have a little fun with her, kill her, nobody's the wiser."
"You would drink impure blood?"
He shrank a little at that. "Of course not, Sister, I merely meant--"
"You're a little idiot," Cara interrupted, flicking her wrist toward him, pinning him against the wall. "I should draw her out and let you feed. The impurity will not go unnoticed by Lord Rahl, and he will kill you. Then I would be rid of your stupidity."
James looked afraid. No one wanted to cross Sister Cara. "Please, Sister. I will be more prudent in the future, you have my word."
Cara considered him, finger to her lips, and as she was about to make a decision, the door behind her slammed open, and she whirled around, coming face to face with the human. "I told you to leave," she repeated, golden eyes boring into green.
Kahlan's heart leapt into her chest, and she questioned herself for the hundredth time, but something about these people drew her in. "I go where I please," she finally answered, when her vocal chords would work. She was transfixed by the woman's beauty, as much as she had been tranfsixed by the young man's handsome charm.
Cara's nostrils flared at the woman's scent. "You do not realize the danger you have put yourself in by coming out here." She spoke in a hushed tone, venom flooding her mouth as she swallowed it back.
"Maybe you shouldn't be doing dangerous things out back of a public club if you don't want any visitors," Kahlan suggested.
"You are a foolish girl."
"Girl? I'm older than you are," Kahlan said, raising her eyebrows.
Cara allowed herself an indulgent smirk as a raven squawked overhead. "That, girl, is doubtful."
Irritated, Kahlan flicked her gaze over the rest of the cloaked figures, then back to the woman. "Did I miss the memo for 'twin day'? Why are you all dressed the same?"
"You find yourself amusing," Cara said quietly. "However, like I said, it is dangerous out here for you. You should return to your shelter."
"What about you? You're out here with a bunch of men, why isn't it dangerous for you?"
Cara almost laughed in surprise. "Your concern is touching, however misguided."
"So, you mean to say you think you're tougher than me. I get it. Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? All I am is this... this... famous singer, who everyone thinks they love but none actually do, who people put up on this ridiculous pedestal and treat like a goddess just because she can open her mouth and put music to words, and who nobody really cares about or wants to get to know. So why wouldn't you be tougher than me? Come on. Kick my ass, then."
Cara stood, stunned. Never had a human been unafraid of her, nor had she encountered anyone, human or otherwise, who made such an outpouring of sarcastic anger and projection. Something twitched within her and she put it down sharply. "You would not live to regret that challenge, were I to accept it," she said darkly, hoping to intimidate the human into walking away.
"Well aren't you a badass," Kahlan said, moving closer.
Cara didn't move back quickly enough, and the human's proximity made her fangs extend, venom once again flooding her mouth, urging her to strike.
"Woah," Kahlan said, backing up quickly, holding her hands out in surrender. "Challenge withdrawn." When she bumped into the door, she reached behind herself almost frantically to grab the doorknob and yank it open, then disappeared inside, practically running down the corridor and back into the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor. What. The. Hell.
Cara stared after her, waiting for the relief to come, but it didn't. Puzzled, she realized she was displeased. She was used to humans and creatures of the night alike being afraid of her because of her attitude and abilities. She liked it that way. But being judged for what she was, being judged for having fangs, for being different, that she wasn't used to. That she didn't like. That, she realized with a frown, offended her.
James watched as Cara leapt up onto the stone wall at the back of the alley and disappeared over the other side. "We'd best not follow her," he told the others. "Not when she's in a mood."
"You put her in a mood, you idiot," a man with eyes nearly black spoke up.
"Fuck off," James scoffed. "None of you did anything to help."
"Because we want to keep our heads," another, younger man mumbled.
--
Cara took her time walking the city, reveling in familiar, comforting sights and smells. Wet grass, freshly mowed, the high school football field. Roses, pink, in half-bloom, Mrs. Rodriguez's front yard. Acrid booze and unlcean humans, the corner of 3rd and Stanedge. The pumping blood of virgins, her favorite smell, night mass at St. Andrew's Holy Trinity.
She slipped into the church, standing against the back wall, eyes scanning the gathered members of the congregation until they lit on someone interesting, and she slowly approached the young man's pew, crossing herself as she reached it, and slid into the pew, kneeling beside him in prayer.
She could feel his apprehension, crackling like electricity in the air between them. "You know what I want," she whispered.
"Mistress Cara, I haven't had time," he stammered, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes darting about nervously, palms sweating.
Simmering golden eyes turned on him, though her expression remained calm. "You have until tomorrow evening, or I will slit your throat with my fingernail and watch you bleed to death on this hallowed carpeting."
His face paled as he wiped his hands on his khaki pants, nodding vigorously. "Of course, Mistress Cara, it will be done," he choked out.
She crossed herself, rose, and left the church.
--
"Cara," Lord Rahl said with a patronizing smile, steepling his fingers together as she approached. "I hear we had our feelings hurt tonight."
Cara's gaze could have cut steel. "The only reason I allow you to be my Lord is out of respect for our mutual Sire. We both know the minions would follow me to the depths of hell and back before they'd take one step in line behind you. So don't push me."
"Cara, Cara," he shook his head, stroking one hand down his goatee. "So touchy these days. I wonder if I might offer you a--"
"Silentium!" she roared, extending her arms toward him, sending him into the wall with a burst of impacted air. Tendrils of black veins curled around her jaw, shooting up the sides of her face in blooming patterns as she strode toward the helpless creature, infecting the whites of her eyes with morbid, black disease. Snakes uncoiled from her sleeves, slithering around Lord Rahl's neck and squeezing until he could not breathe. "Qui fas irascitum?" she asked, her voice booming throughout the cavernous alcove, though she was no longer yelling.
"Ignosce..." he rasped as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Cara released the snakes, and no longer bound by her will, they dispersed and slithered off into the shadows. She watched with indifference as Lord Rahl gasped and spluttered for breath, clutching his throat desperately. "This will be the last time I forgive your insolence," she hissed, her features smooth porcelain once again, her eyes their typical gold flanked by white.
--
There had to be some explanation for what she'd seen, Kahlan thought, as she let the hot shower spray wash over her. People didn't fly across alleys and grow fangs, they just... didn't. Maybe it was a theater group, and she'd stumbled into a rehearsal for... Peter Pan meets Dracula. God, no. They weren't a theater group. They were... magicians, maybe.
She resolved to just forget it, and never think about it again, but everyone knows that trying not to think of something is useless. She scrubbed her face, trying to clean away the image of razor-sharp canines and haunting gold eyes, but that was useless too.
She pressed a kiss to her fingertip and reached around to touch it to the tattoo covering her left shoulder blade. "Love you, Mama," she whispered, stepping out of the shower and taking her towel from the rack, wrapping it around herself.
When she turned to face the sink, she screamed. A message stood out on the fogged mirror, like in cheesy horror movies she'd watched and hated.
We're watching you.
"What the fuck!" she yelled, angrily scrubbing out the message by wiping the mirror dry.
She dressed quickly and grabbed a baseball bat, searching her apartment thoroughly, but found nothing missing, and no trace of an intruder, until she noticed a string of ivory rosary beads on her pillow. She wasn't Catholic.
She left the beads where they were and called the police. She wasn't going to be the brainless movie character who wanted to investigate things on her own and ended up killed.
--
"We found no prints on the beads, Ma'am, only small traces of blood belonging to a missing girl."
"What?!"
"Emma Chase, do you know her?"
Kahlan racked her brain, coming up empty. "No, I have no idea... but I'm not Catholic. Those are Catholic beads, right? Rosary beads?"
The detective nodded. "They have the logo of St. Andrew's Holy Trinity engraved on the back of the cross."
"I've never been inside, but I've driven by. It's in the neighborhood. This doesn't make any sense. How can there be no prints, and why did someone break in here just to leave me a message and some beads belonging to a missing girl I don't know?"
"We're looking into it, Ms. Amnell," the detective assured her, pulling out his card and handing it over. "Here's my card, please call us if you notice anything else out of the ordinary."
Kahlan punched the closet door after they were gone. This was not the type of adventure she had been hoping for. And the police had taken her pillow.