Twenty minutes later and Chevonne and Elliot were on opposite sides of the elevator. She could feel his eyes on her and she refused to look at him. Four floors didn't take that long, right? There was a ding and the doors opened. She stepped through and Elliot followed. The walk to her door flew by and before she knew it, her key was in the lock and it turned and they were in.
"Wasn't I supposed to invite you in?" she asked as he followed her into her dark apartment, lit only by the streetlights from below.
"It depends on which movie you watch." His voice was entirely to close and she hurried across the living room. The lamp pushed away the darkness and she turned to find him standing, hands in his pockets, staring at the roses. "They were supposed to be thornless."
"Well, as you can see, they missed one."
He shot her a quick look and she took a step back. His eyes... the light, silvery brown was gone. Instead, they were now the black from her memory. From her painting.
"I didn't need to see it," he said softly and she knew what he meant.
"That was two days ago. You can still smell it?"
His nod was abrupt. "Not much and I don't think he will be able to from outside."
"If he knows where I live." She took another step back as he turned all his attention to her.
"How much did you bleed?"
She didn't want to stay on the subject of blood. Not when she wasn't sure what his eye-color meant. Was it bad for her? That was how it felt. "Does it matter?"
He cocked his head and waited for her answer.
"If I tell you, will you take off your mask?" Eyes only spoke so much. Expressions were important as well.
"You've trusted me so I suppose I can return the favor." His thumb caught the bottom of the black mask and slowly, he pushed it up and over his head.
He had the be the single most beautiful monster in the world and Chevonne gave herself a metal shake. Yes, she had been attracted to him before she knew what he was. That information ended any desire after that. Just because he was stunning didn't mean it would return. She had no interest in him anymore.
"One drop."
"I don't believe you." What good did seeing him do when his face remained as expressionless as the mask?
"That isn't my problem. You asked. I answered. Why would I lie?" Everything inside her screamed at her as she gathered her courage and moved passed him and into the kitchen. Instinctively, she reached for for the bottle, stopping just short of touching it. Her shoulders were so tight they ached. Her nerves shooting up every second she had her back to him. A deep breath and her fingers closed around the pod for her single cup coffee machine. Getting it brewing, she turned and found him staring out her window.
Her breath was loud in the silence and he turned, giving her a mocking smile and his eyes were brown again.
She slid up on the bar-stool while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. "So, how would he know where I live?"
"When I offered you a drink, I knew your preference was whiskey. The way I came by that information was through my employee. The one who helped you gather your belonging when you fell."
"You've been spying on me?"
He shrugged. "I was curious."
She took a deep breath. The anger surprised her. But maybe it shouldn't have. His employee was the reason she had been feeling like someone was watching her. Because someone was. "Couldn't you let me know that you had people watching me? Do you know what it was like to feel eyes on me while waiting in the station? The darkness on either side could hide anything. I was terrified."
He was frowning as he came back to the island. "It appears I'm to late to prevent it."
"What do you mean?"
"It means that James didn't follow you to the subway. He wasn't there. If you felt someone watching you, it was either imagination, unlikely, or Colvin has his own looking for you."
"But... they wouldn't know me. They wouldn't be able to smell me."
He sat across from her and gave her a look that told her he was about to once again, ruin her world.
She held up a hand. "Please, let me make my coffee first."
The half smile was even sexier when she could see his entire face and she turned her back to it. After a minute, it was done. She slid off her heels and sat across from Elliot. After taking a sip, she nodded at him.
"I have employees. They know what I am. They know the dangers in being associated with me. I treat them well and pay generously for the danger they are exposed to. They are loyal to me. Obviously, there are things I can't do during the day and they handle these things for me. And yes, they lack the ability to trace your scent. They could do this if I kept them attached to me by other means. Personally, I find the idea of blood-slaves quite disturbing and vile. Colvin does not share these opinions. Due to the transfer of blood, he has a link with these beings."
"People," she corrected him. "They are still people."
"No, Chevonne. And if you were to see one, you would understand why they are not. But, again, through this link, he can see what they see, hear what they hear, smell what they smell."
Her mouth went dry at the implication. "They share his blood, so, their senses..."
"Are magnified, yes. They can track you and he will know when they find you. And based on what you said about the subway, I can only assume they have."
"But can they with so many people around me? The car was full and I don't think they got on. If they did, they were in another car."
"They might not know which station you got off, but given time, they could figure it out. If they haven't yet, the rain today would have taken care of it."
She took another sip of the hot liquid, ignoring the slight tremble in her hands. His reaction to the lingering scent of her blood surfaced and she closed her eyes. "I cut myself. When I fell." He made a sound and she looked at him. "It was a small cut and I cleaned it up where I did it. I threw the wet nap in the trash there as well. But... Well..."
His eyes stayed the light brown, but his jaw clenched and her breath stopped.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Chevonne. We've discussed that. But that is going to be like a beacon to them. Perhaps it would have been enough to keep them from following you home. Your blood is quite... potent."
Her grip on the cup tightened and she swallowed. "I don't consider that a compliment, Elliot."
He smiled. "You shouldn't."
~~~
They sat in silence for a moment before Elliot stood.
"Do you mind if I check out your other rooms? I'd like to make sure you are as safe as possible before I leave."
"Help yourself." She surprised herself with a smile. "It's not like you haven't seen them before."
His grin was devastating. "But I was in a hurry that night. I had to get back to the cemetery and fix things before people found ashes and a hole in the ground."
Her smile fell away. "I never thought about that."
"I'm sure you would have remembered had you seen it on the news."
She shook her head. "I don't know if you noticed it or not, but I don't have a television."
"That's odd in today's world." He gave her a look she couldn't read. "What do you do in your time?"
"I paint, sometimes. Read. I used to go to the movies with Jon... I did a lot of things with him." She cleared her throat before getting to her feet. "Would you mind checking the bedroom first so I can change cloths?"
"Of course." He left her alone, walking away with the same confidence with which he seemed to do everything.
Alone for the first time in hours, she let out a beep breath and some of the tension fell away from her shoulders. Standing, she made her way to the window and looked down onto the street. It was early morning now and there wasn't as many people to watch, but it still helped. His car was still by the curb. The driver wasn't standing beside it, but she could see his hands on the steering wheel.
There was movement in the glass and she looked up. Elliot was behind her. She spun on the wrong foot and almost fell as her ankle gave out. Hands gripped her waist, keeping her upright. Once again she look up into his eyes, his hands on her and once again, she felt something other than fear.
"Your bedroom is safe." His words were low and there was something in his eyes. Something that pulled at her and that frightened her more than anything else.
"Thank you," she managed to say and his eyes dropped to her lips. Though weightless, the could feel them.
"My pleasure."
She took a slow deep breath through her nose and stepped away from him. There was something going on. Something that shouldn't happen, couldn't happen. He was a killer, she tried to reason with herself. But he was protecting her.
She took a step to move around him before she found herself in his arms and why did that feel familiar? "Let me help you. It won't hurt if you don't walk on it."
Protests were ignored and she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed. Looking up at him, she would swear the room was smaller simply because of his presence. This overwhelming aura he gave off.
"You didn't need to trouble yourself. It didn't hurt much."
"I frightened you. Helping was the least I could do. And having a beautiful woman in my arms is never a trouble."
She didn't know what to say to that so she said nothing. The hint of a smile he gave her had color rushing to her face.
"That's not fair, Chevonne."
"What isn't?"
"I made you blush and it's hiding behind lace."
It was so soft, she had forgotten she was wearing it. He took a step toward her and she could feel her eyes widen. Was it fright? Was it something darker? He reached out and this time she held steady. No flinching. His fingers traced the edge of her mask and her breath caught in her throat.
How could the attraction still be there? How, after knowing what he was, what he could do, could his touch set her on fire?
Softly, his other hand came around to lift her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulder. She couldn't take her eyes off his face as he tugged gently on the strings holding the lace in place. It fell away to land in her lap and he stepped back, staring at her.
"You look nothing like I imagined you would." If his voice was any lower, she wouldn't have been able to hear it.
Nerves of a different kind tightened and she licked suddenly dry lips. His eyes dropped to them as she spoke. "But you saw me."
"Covered in mud and hurt. This isn't that."
His thumb touched the fullness of her bottom lip and he snatched his hand back like she burnt him. Without a word, he turned and left her alone, questioning everything inside her.
~~~
After a few minutes, minutes that she desperately needed, she emerged from her room in leggings and an over-sized sweatshirt. She found Elliot flipping through her record collection. Briefly, she wondered what he thought about it before deciding it really didn't matter. What was it she told herself while changing?
He was a means to an end. He was going to help her survive. That was it.
"You have an eclectic taste in music."
"I have an old soul." She made her way to the couch and sat down. "Did you find anything to worry about?"
He stopped flipping through the records and faced her. "No. Not a thing. I think your accidental bloodletting may have prevented you from being followed."
"So, what happens now? I live a reclusive life? Order everything on-line and never again step foot into the outside world?"
He moved over to the window and looked out into the night. "That sounds horrible, I admit. But until I can figure out how to destroy him, that is exactly what I suggest." He looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. "I know you won't, and I understand, but realize that my protection can only do so much."
"I'm going to Jonathan's tomorrow."
He turned away, looking down on the few remaining souls that wandered the streets at that time of morning. "Of course."
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "It's not easy, in case you think I'm doing it to spite you. You think he did something. I know he wouldn't have. I love him too much, respect him too much to simply leave his things to collect dust. I have memories there that I want to hold onto for as long as I can."
"You may not believe me, but I was human once. I understand loss." He never looked at her and why did that never cross her mind? "What time do you intend on going?"
"Early."
"I would like to send someone with you."
"No more spying?"
"Spying, watching over. The words change depending on perspective." Finally he faced her. "I never use this word. Ever. But here I am and I don't know why. Please."
What could she say to that? It was a given that she would be followed, but, it would be easier on her to actually know who was trying to help keep her alive.
"I'll be leaving at nine."
"He'll be here."
"Elliot? I don't know why you are doing this, but thank you."
His eyes were again unreadable as he drew closer to her. "When I figure it out, you'll be the next to know."
Blaming it on exhaustion, she couldn't help the laugh that broke from her. "Just let me know if you change your mind." She meant it as a joke, but the words were closer to home than she would have liked.
Perhaps for him as well with the way he stiffened.
"It was a joke. A poor one, but a joke none the less. No one has ever accused me of being funny." She tried to smile.
"You've been through a lot and I added so much more tonight. I appreciate the attempt." He held out his hand and waited.
Yes, she was trying to be funny. Trying to lighten the mood. But... No. No buts. She had to trust him. At least to a degree. How many times were they alone? How many times did she leave with her life? It wasn't him that wanted her dead. She knew that, maybe.
He began to pull his hand away when she reached out, fingers brushing his, hesitantly at first before closing around his. He pulled her to her feet before letting her go.
"You need sleep. And I'm a monster for making Neil wait so long in the car. Here is my card. My number is on it. If anything, anything at all happens, even if it's simply a bad feeling, call me. If I don't answer, you will get a hold of someone that can help you. Don't be afraid to use it."
He handed her the small rectangular piece of paper and she nodded. "Don't be to prideful to live. Is that what your saying?"
The half-smile that she was becoming far to attached to made an appearance and she looked away."Exactly." He headed to the door, stopping when he had it open. "Listen to yourself. Listen to your instincts."
"I will. Thank you." She dared herself and met his eyes. He said nothing else, but the way he looked at her, she would think he was committing her face to memory. A thought that grew as he spoke.
"I made a couple of calls while you were changing. Help, if you will, to see this done quickly. They should be arriving within a few days. With luck, I'll send word when it's over and you will never have to see me again."
He turned and walked away and she didn't know what to say to that. A means to an end. A way of surviving. That was all he was, right? Because he was the lesser of two evils. Why should it bother her if that happened? But she couldn't lie to herself. It did.
"Elliot," she called out before realizing she had no idea what to say. Only that the parting felt wrong. What could she say? Maybe they could have coffee? It wasn't exactly that kind of relationship.
He looked back at her and smiled. "Go to sleep, Chevonne, before you say something that both of us will regret."
"Elliot, I—"
"I love how you say my name." The elevator opened and he stepped back into it, eyes never leaving hers while he pressed the button that would take him from her sight.
And it did.
And that was it.