Someone In The Dark

SITD 3

The moment Michael saw her face, he knew what she had seen. She was frightened, her eyes growing wide as she backed into the wall. Instant shame fell upon him. When she said his name it had ignited a spark inside him, like dry kindling waiting to be lit, and he had reacted like an animal. He was an animal. What did he think was going to happen?

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

He ran out the door, so fast he was sure it would only confuse her more but he could not stop. His reaction was twofold, to hide his true nature from the innocent she was, and to reprimand himself for ever believing he could be other than what he was. For only a moment, briefly, he let his guard down, enough to feel almost normal. Almost...human.

Outside on the roof he paced, watching as the lights went out in her apartment, one by one. He was a fool. He never should have stayed. What possessed him to brew coffee and stay for a chat? To act as though he had not a care in the world? Had he lost his mind?

He was vampyre. She was human. There were consequences when getting involved with humans. His sire would either laugh or punish him when he found out what Michael was doing. His presence alone could cause her trouble. His scent was there now, in her apartment. They would know that Michael was there. Any vampire would.

The more he lingered, the stronger it would be. Like a dog marking his territory with urine, a vampire marked his territory with scent. Only with his kind it was unconscious. Uncontrollable.

It was then that he heard her crying. A horrible, heart wrenching, hollow sound that made his chest ache. He felt actual pain. Clutching at his chest, he bent over as confusion filled his head. A human? A mere human girl made him feel pain? He felt real. Alive. It had been so long that he almost forgot what actual pain felt like.

Vampyre do not feel pain. Even when they die. It is only mental. Not physical. Only thirst was a source of agony. Only denial.

His feet led him of their own accord. There was no resistance. He slipped into her bedroom and nearly collapsed at the pain and sorrow he felt. She was so small. So helpless.

"Mare," he called. His throat was tight.

Tortured by her cries, he reached for her, hugging her close. She continued to weep until the tears subsided out of exhaustion.

"Sleep," he whispered, "I will stay."

Mare was asleep as soon as he said it. The tears lay wet on her cheeks and he carefully wiped them away. She was vulnerable now. Soft and sweet. He brushed the hair out of her face and watched her rest, fascinated. He did not sleep. It was a well-known fact that vampyre do not need repose. Instead, he watched over her. For hours.

She was restless most of the night. Something haunted her in her dreams. She reached for him periodically and he would hold her tight hoping that she felt his presence. He wanted her to know that she was safe. Nothing would happen to her while he was there.

Michael knew nothing about this woman. Not where she came from or who she really was. Yet a connection between them was undeniable. He had thought so when he saw her in the window but he knew it now. She was different. It became more prominent the longer he spent in her company. The pull he felt in her presence was confusing and exhilarating at the same time.

He needed to think.

She was in danger. Yes, he added to that danger but he needed to know everything. He needed to know who was after her and why. If he was going to protect her, he needed to know the risks.

His mind was moving faster than he could put a plan in place. He was going to have to leave her in the morning. He would watch and make sure she got to work and then he would go to the council. If he petitioned, perhaps he could get clearance and be assigned as her protector full time. Only then would he be able to secure her safety.