Eternal Night

(I) Chapter 13: Niklaus Van Der Au

Frankie secretly regretted saying anything to Carmen come the following evening. Although her friend meant well in wanting to discuss the topic of Vlad Leinhart further, she didn't quite know when to let it go. What Frankie needed right now was the chance to process her own feelings alone for a time, not talk herself in circles.

In an effort to avoid the discussion altogether, Frankie eventually took to spending the majority of her time in her old office in the north district at the VNN building, immersing herself in preparations for her next interview. She had of course insisted to both Rémy and Carmen that she had done this so she could work undistracted – which had some validity to it – but the real reason had to do with her need to avoid Leinhart for a while.

The man was always over nearly every evening and at Rémy's invitation. In fact, the flat was regularly invaded, as it had become the place to congregate since Carmen's was gone and the new establishment wouldn't be ready for some weeks. It was frustrating, not being able to exist comfortably in her own home, but there was nothing to be done. So for the next ten days, Frankie was scarcely seen, only ever returning to the flat once she could be certain the coast was clear.

As the Leinhart-free days progressed and her general distraction with work increased, Frankie found herself dwelling on the man and her attraction to him less and less until the day her next interview had arrived.

A couple of hours before she would have to leave for the old Hungarian Parliament building, she was in her bedroom, making the necessary preparations – organizing notes, taking inventory of her items, and finding an appropriate outfit. She was just adding the finishing touches to the evening's ensemble when Rémy entered her room.

She acknowledged his presence with a barely-there smile as she pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.

"You look nice," he offered.

"Thank you."

Her voice was soft, distracted and even a little distant.

"I've asked Lyra to go with you, if that's ok."

"That's fine," she responded civilly, but her cordiality seemed to rub her brother wrong because he suddenly snapped.

"Frankie, for God's sake!" and he exhaled loudly. She sent him a bewildered look.

"What?"

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"The silent treatment thing. You know how much I hate that."

She rolled her eyes, gathering up the rest of her things before pulling on the leather jacket she had laid out on the bed.

"I'm not giving you the silent treatment, Rémy. I just have nothing to say."

"Bullshit. You're angry with me, aren't you?"

"I'm not angry with you," she assured him calmly.

"Yes, you are!" he insisted. "For crying out loud, Frank, can't you just yell at me and be done with it? I'm tired of feeling guilty all the time. You're never home; if you do talk it's always in that detached ice-queen tone; you're always working or taking long walks or on one of your charitable runs..."

"You aren't seriously going to judge me for visiting the less-fortunate, are you?"

"No... although I don't see why you insist on doing it. Those blood-capsules are expensive as it is and you give them out like free candy."

"Those vampires are starving, Reynaud..."

"So are you, technically," he muttered and she sent him a hard look. "Fine – whatever. I won't tell you how to spend your money... but I really can't take you being this distant, Frank. Leinhart can get better responses out of you – not that it matters because you're avoiding him like the plague, too."