"...as long as nothing happens between them, the memory is cursed with what hasn't happened."
Marguerite Duras, Blue Eyes, Black Hair
***
The young and relentless Mercy Harrow was lovely, and how she knew this too.
She knew that before she entered the opaque hallways of this building; an empty and crude display of housing. She knew of her beauty before she had openly agreed to participate in the favors her Grandfather asked for.
But what Mercy wanted did not include her looks.
What Mercy longed for - killed for - was her impeccable need to be dominant; of her race, her family, and her cousin.
There was nothing wrong for two members of a family to be wedded; to love. Mercy felt this in a full, frothy passion, as she angrily stomped through stoned corridors, towards the ending set of doors. That was where she would find him - Lucifer.
Oh, his letter had been so vague. Yet, the words he'd spoken were the truth.
They were the right path to follow; and Mercy knew deep in her being, that she wanted the woman dead. Abigail Worthington, a girl who had yet to realise her family lineage; had yet to see what she was doing to Nathaniel.
And how yielding he was, so soft, that he had yet to know what he wanted.
And what he wanted was she; Mercy. And her desire was a rapid growing wall that blocked out anything else of reason.
Mercy would have him; and with the help of Grandfather, it would be determined. They were meant to be together (or so Mercy has deluded herself into thinking), and once they were together, it would be forever.
She was meant to be his, and he hers; there was nothing wrong with their love.
Her choppy heels had finally reached the doors leading to the nightly terrace.
Outside, the wind had picked up and clouds tufted over the slitted moon, like a blanket of cotton, covering a turned cheek.
"Mercy. You are late." Lucifer's voice was dead; a monotone of terror.
"I am sorry, Grandfather. But I come and go as I please, you should know this." She remarked, keeping her own tone smooth and resourceful. Mercy had yet to weigh the options, and he was supposed to set in front of her deal. A legitimate offer, that if she accepted, would change everything. Change was for the better of her people, and her Nathaniel, and being Mercy - needing to have a steady hand in this change - she would push the knife all the way into the wound.
"Very well. You got my letter, I presume?"
Mercy nodded, though he couldn't see her head move, Lucifer still somehow knew the answer to his question, and this was just small-talk.
"You know what I plan on presenting you with, then?" All formalities had passed, and now the man sounded to be in an urgent state of anger.
Mercy nodded again, and this time, Lucifer spun around. If she had suspected rage in him before, her assumptions were rejected; he looked impossibly serene; calm.
"Good girl. I feel as if the Council has reached its brink in patience with the revolting amongst our race; you have witnessed such, I'm to guess?"
Mercy, her face a mimicking mask of Lucifer's smiled, a haunting and unattractive addition to her perfect features.
"Yes, Grandfather."
"Do as I say, Child, and the world will never fail you. Do as I say and you might live through the revolution."
Mercy's smile had froze. "Revolution, Grandfather?"
Lucifer turned towards the girl - who's hair flew into her face - and gave of a polished smile.
"So much to learn, young one." His head cocked to the side. "The seed of revolution is repression; and I have warned them, I have explained what is right," He paused, "And what is wrong. But now, the only solution is to pull the weed from its roots."
"To get rid of the one who started this oppression ...?" Mercy suggested.
"Not just get rid; we must make her suffer for her choice opinions on this race; to make her feel the pain, to take consequences and realize that what she has in mind is disgusting, and wrong, and impossible. And I wont let it happen again."
"Again?" Mercy asked, her eyebrows moving together as she stared at the young man in confusion.
"Why yes," Lucifer seemed almost humoured now, "The same situation happened between Nathaniel's mother and father of course."
******
Abbi felt like a half drowned rat. Her hair was wet, and sticking to her cheeks like slick black ink, while her clothes were plastered to her spine.
The rain thundered from above in sheets of cold and icy pellets.
The night was of course, cloudy and smelled slightly of precipitation, but the four of them had barely enough time to react. It started so suddenly, and no cabs were stopping, so here they sat, underneath a bus stop, drenched and cold.
Well, at least, Abbi was cold. The others weren't bothered by it in the least - even Patten and Evie were laughing.
But of course they weren't bothered by it. The rain only made them more beautiful, and for that, Abbi was resentful. She had crossed her arms and pouted on the bench as they waited for the bus.
Nathaniel, faithfully, sat next to her. But she wouldn't look at him.
For some reason, Abbi didn't want to see how beautiful he would look in the water, while she - a soaking monstrosity - was flushed and freezing.
"Are you cold?" Nathaniel asked softly in her ear.
His soft voice made her jump and turn towards him. Abbi regretted her movements the moment it happened. Nathaniel looked like a dowsed Greek god. His blond hair had turned a shade darker, and was slicked against the planes of his face. His cheek bones were outlined by shadows, and Abbi was positive that she could see his blue eyes through the rain; sparkling like the water around them.
"No." She said stubbornly, but unfortunately, shivered.
Nathaniel chuckled to himself, while muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Before Abbi could stop him, he had fastened himself into her side, and one heavy arm was thrown over her shoulders.
Abbi sighed, but was relieved to have the sudden warmth emancipating from him. The thought made her curious.
"I thought vampires were supposed to be cold." She commented, for only Nathaniel to hear.
He smirked. "I thought you'd ask sooner or later. It mostly depends on the amount of blood, we take say a vampire who's about to die of starvation would be extremely cold, but one who has just fed would be incredibly hot."
Abbi nodded absentmindedly, and then a squealing churn of thick wheels and rusty brakes turned the corner. The bus, Abbi thought gleefully, as she jumped up taking Nathaniel with her, and was already at the window before it had even got there.
Nathaniel even had to pull her back so the revolving door wouldn't hit her.
Abbi rushed inside the humid bus, and took a seat. Luckily, there were just enough for Nathaniel to sit down next to her, but Patten and Evie were forced to stand. Evie was snug against Patten's chest and didn't seem to mind, whereas he looked a little peeved.
Nathaniel tightened his own arm and pulled her against the side of his body. The ride back was longer than it should have been, only because they had walked farther than needed and had to get back to Jeffery and the car somehow.
Abbi spent that time talking with the vampire next to her. He laughed at her sardonic mood, and she his chipper one, all the while their friends smiled down upon them. She felt at whole in his embrace, and comfortable, and the rest of her problems seemed to be shoved out of the way. Nathaniel was her distraction, and she Abbi didn't want to give it up. Even as the bus was yanked to a stop just outside the parking-lot that Jeffery awaited in.
******
It was still pouring as they got to the mansion. Jeffery was quick to bring an umbrella, and remained dry, while he refused to give it to his master.
This had Abbi's laugh springing over the sounds of rain against the pavement.
Nathaniel had taken her hand in his warm one, and was bounding towards the main entrance of the house, that was, until Abbi decided to take a detour.
Giggling like a four-year-old she had turned a sharp right and was then parading through the gardens. Now, as she walked through this wet-wonderland she remembered Nathaniel's lips on her own; and how stupid she was to refuse him.
Because as this moment, seeing his corded chest through the material of his white shirt, she wanted nothing more than that kiss; that pressure.
And Abbi was positive he wanted her too.
So she hid behind the branches of shaped trees, hoping that he wouldn't find her but secretly knowing he would. Her breathing was heavy, and unlike the last time she was here, the sky was a muddled black, and the rain still showered from the thick clouds.
Mud had splattered the bottoms of her shoes and her shins; the ground seemed to be upturned with the stuff.
It was then that warm hands constricted around her waist and she was pulled into an hold so enticingly hot and familiar, she sighed against him.
Abbi felt Nathaniel's mouth behind her ear, as he slowly whispered warnings for her bad behavior. She could only stand there and breath heavily as her body convulsed in shivers - not because of the cold.
"Abigail," Nathaniel said harshly.
"Yes ...?" Her voice was, pathetically, almost a whimper.
"Turn around." He demanded, and so she did. But what Abbi saw, she did not expect. His eyes were lanced with such a raw and open desire that it took Abbi's breath straight from her lungs.
"I want to kiss you," He started, keeping his crushing stare up towards the sky. "I want you so badly, I want to hold you in my arms for eternities, I need to wake up with you there; curled around me like a perfect, beautiful angel. I long to touch your skin, and if I had just that pleasure, I would deny your blood; but at this moment, all I want is-"
Abbi hugged him to her, her fingers ripping at the collars of his shirt, as she brought his head to her mouth.
She could hear his loud breathing, as he slowly responded with a coveting madness. His hands tore at the her hips as their bodies clasped together, him fitting into her like missing puzzle pieces. Nathaniel growled against her mouth and forced it open with his tongue. She felt his hot breath, and tasted his sweetness, like a pair of animals, they attacked each other.
His hands moved from her behind to cradle her back, fingers probing under her shirt, all the while red-hot lips assaulted each other. Abbi's nails scathed his rock hard shoulders, and Nathaniel moaned, his heart racing just as fast as her own.
He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth while sharp fangs protruded into her flesh. Abbi tasted the blood, salty and metallic, and their kisses were suddenly ramped up by the hunger in which Nathaniel reacted to.
She wasn't sure if he was ravenously kissing her, or licking her blood.
And Abbi knew she should be disgusted and pull away, she knew the pain hurt, but in some gut-wrenching moment, the feel of ecstasy and total lust had mixed together to create the passion she was experiencing in this moment. Abbi clawed at his hair, feeling the silky strands part in between her fingers as she hungered for more, searching his mouth to know him; feel him.
And the kissing was mad, it was crazy, the way they peeled each other back; exposing so much more than just their mouths. Before Abbi knew it, she was light-headed, her brain swimming in a wobbly pool of Nathaniel, as she pulled back, trying to gain control of her breathing.
She gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly, letting her hands lower from his head, to caress his neck, and outline his collarbone with her fingers.
Nathaniel allowed some space between their mouths, but only so he could lead a trail of kisses along her hair line, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, to the very corner of her lips. And as he drunk swallows of air, she had barely heard the three words that had pushed past his lips.
"I love you,"
And Abbi froze, her hands becoming thick posts of marble as she stared into his face, her expression horrified.
"What?"