About that girl..

[Lovely]

July 2, 2006
Trent's apartment
follows: Need to know


"... you rat bastich Trent! I'm going to break your legs.. and arms.. and maybe your neck..."

Trent looked up as the door opened, rolling his eyes. "Now what did I do?"

"The girl?!"

"Girl? My ward? I was getting to know her."

"Do you know why I am a little teeny tiny bit upset about that?"

He blinked and offered an honest and blank reply. " Decaf?" He shrugged. "I sense ghosts, Tarka.. I don't read minds. You'll have to be a little less vague here."

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE... IT IS??"

'Tasty' was the word that almost fell from his mouth, meaning her appearance overall, but the meaning was two fold and not likely to quell Tarka's sudden flare. "She... is a she, and yes, I know she's a demon.. at least partly," he couldn't help injecting some humor. "And she isn't half bad."

"Not half bad?" He laughed. "Oh of course until she seduces you and eats you alive... or in your case.. Trent.. dear boy.. what are you thinking?"

"That that's the half that -is- bad. And I wasn't... I was doing my damnedest, but you know... there's a reason I'm a light feeder. I have no idea what came over me," he said, his hands gesturing as if following a certain curve of hip and side as the image floated in his mind a moment.

He slammed Trent back into the wall. "I'm not finding this amusing." He warned in a low voice. "I have a job to do." He growled, letting Trent go and drawing his sword.

"Whoa... put it away... she's not what you seem to thi... she's not... she is, but not that, Tarka," he couldn't deny that she did try to eat him, like the man warned. "She's fed recently and she's doing really well. She was left in my care by a dear friend... you remember Gil, right? He wouldn't pawn a disaster on me like that. She's not what you think."

"Gil? Yeah he's on my list too... " The pain in his voice was apparent along with the dark chuckle as he continued on his path. "You don't know what Gil would and would not do.. any more than I did.. but I have been enlightened... Phae and her lies and her secrets!" He nearly spat the words, his grip on his sword tightening. "You don't know what this thing is... what she is capable of!"

He lifted a hand in defense and asked again gently, "Please, Tarka. Yes, I do know. But I'm still here despite a valiant attempt and I know what to look for to keep her from doing it again." He hoped anyway, and the longer Tarka kept him engaged, the longer he was taking to prevent the event from recurring. It wasn't the first time he'd thought of Phaedra recently, especially with the girl's attempt to pull him restlessly through shadows in a manner much like Phae would. "Secrets? From you? Why?"

"Oh you do know... and you stand here looking at me like that.. defending her.." His jaw worked in clenching angry motion. "If you knew what she was... you'd know why Phae kept her from me." His voice went icey cold. "Because I would have done this a thousand years ago.."

"Phae? Phae kept you from her... why? Okay, so maybe I'm missing some of the story here. What do you or Phae have to do with her being put into sleep?"

"She never would have been put to sleep if I had known... I would have killed her the moment she was born."

[Lovely]

Trent harumphed quietly and stepped away from the gently gesturing blade, not sure Tarka wouldn't just take things out on him here then dispatch the girl anyway. "You didn't though... because Phae prevented it? Why was Phaedra protecting her. She doesn't protect anyone except her kids that I've seen... sometimes you if she's in a good mood."

He shook his head, his anger blowing out like a balloon deflating. "Hello McFly!" He tapped Trent's forehead with his knuckles, his sword lowered at his side but not put away..

"Ow. Hey, cut it out... what's the matter with you?" He ducked and waivered out of the rapping on his skull and shrugged him off. "Going nuts on me? Tell me it's not true that the only ones she gives a flip about are you and the ki..." Realization flashed in his eyes and he took a step back, looking at Tarka warily. "Hey, look... I came into this picture about a thousand years ago myself... I didn't know she ever had any kids before, so I don't know who or what he looks like or anything. Jealousy isn't like you, Tarka... I mean, you know Phaedra... of course you do, but you know what I mean. But just because she's some other demon's daughter with Phae... I don't see why you have to kill her. She's slept all this time to absorb all that 'good' ... after all the work Kiefer did and all..."

"Trent.. shut up.. She is not Phae's daughter with some other demon." His voice dropped softly, sounding pained again. "This... line can not continue... Trent you don't know what could come of this.."

Not some other demon... him. And she knows, he thought. That's why... she fears him. "I know what I know," he shrugged, watching the man carefully. "I know she's as deadly as she is beautiful... makes sense knowing now who her mother is. I don't think she knows that, though. She does know about you."

He froze a moment, watching Trent as carefully as the other man watched him. "She knows about me?" His voice seemed almost timid in its whisper. "Tell me.... about her..."

"She didn't tell me exactly, but I pieced it together with the final bit just now... fear, admiration... Gil must have told her only that part, because she never mentioned Phaedra. But I mentioned you and she nearly crawled back through the earth herself to hide from ever meeting you. OKay, so it just sounds like she's afraid of you... but I honestly think... she's hurt... I know she is because she kinda let it slip without mentioning... she knows you're her father... someone she's never known and she's hurt that I do know you."

He blinked... and then blinked again, shock registering on his face as he absorbed the information. "I.. she... hurt?" He licked his lips, sinking down to crouch and rest his arms over his bent legs. "What else? Tell me.. everything... please... I need to know... is their light in her? Does she... a soul.. Trent does she have one or does she show evidence of being a creature of darkness?"

A soul? The crystal... "Yes and no, but don't jump to conclusions. Like I said, I'm still getting to know her.. and what I said wasn't really altogether joking. She's got a very carefully controlled dark side, yes, but whether she has a soul, I don't know. She's got mom's knack for shadows and she's very fast and precise with a blade.. like her father." He said the last with evident pride and respect that was due. "She's aware when something's amiss in her behavior and doesn't let herself slip, if that means anything. And the part that is good... is really very good. She insisted that I feed, not knowing what would happen. She brought supplies and even reorganized my place. I can't find jack shit, but it looks nice."

He nodded slowly, looking around the apartment and realizing how clean and, yes organized it was. He chuckled and let his head drop into his hands. "An evil fiend that cleans your place up and brings you supplies? Doesn't quite fit..." His head lifted and he looked at Trent. "What happened when you fed?"

He took another step back and walked around the man, dodging the question with ambiguity. "Doing what she insisted... finished off what was in my cup... and we talked," he said setting to fidgeting with a scroll case and papers.

[Lovely]

"Trent?" He shifted to look at the man, watching him fidgit. "What is it?" He stood and sheathed his blade, starting to become a little concerned. "Did you.... you fed in front of her? I'm a little lost.. missing pieces here.."

He nodded. "You could say that," he mumbled nervously, looking for the nearest blade. "In front of her... kinda from her.. a little."

His eyes narrowed. "What?" His voice rose a little. "What do you mean kinda.. fed from her?"

"About that not thinking part... was sort of.. dazed... drunk... too much of a good thing," he said, slowly moving to rest his hand near the blade that remained by the desk. "Lost in the effects of the feeding and ... kinda.. just... kept going." His eyes stayed on Tarka, but watched past him to the door to the other room that he hadn't gone near yet.

The voices in the other room had been breaking into her sleep, but she'd not come fully awake yet. Sapphira had fallen into an exhuated sleep following another delicious and vigorous round of 'sharing' with Trent. The rising and deep tone finally had her rolling from the disheveled bed and making her way to the door. She pulled it open, with nothing but the air covering her. "Trent?" She said with a sleepy smile. "Why are you up?" Her eyes fell on the man who stood with him and her eyes narrowed.

"Sapphira, you've forgotten your manners. We have company," he said in a twitchy manner stiffly befitting a watcher and his ward. "If you don't mind."

She blinked looking past Tarka to Trent, her expression confused and a bit hurt at the way he was speaking to her. Her fingers came up to play with the crystal as she did often in habit. Her fingers brushed over the small gash on her chest, it had been closed but not healed away. "Excuse me." She said softly, her chin lifting slightly as she stepped back and the door slammed closed.

His eyes closed with a sigh as the door slammed as if its breeze pushed him visibly back a step. His fingers ran over then tightly grasped the hilt of the sword, not yet lifting it yet as he listened for Tarka's query, be it in words or actions. He opened his eyes, quickly focusing on the man. "Well that went badly," he murmured.

His head turned as the door opened and then he heard her voice, so sweet and soft. He stared in shock and then his eyes raked over her, naked and amazingly beautiful. He said nothing as he watched the exchange. He flinched as the door slammed and then turned to Trent. "Too much of a good thing." He echoed, his head tilting and then the way Trent had motioned in the air, as if caressing a hip and side. Tarka's eyes narrowed. "You... with MY DAUGHTER? With.. You.. after everything... I should take .." He spun his hand going for Trent's throat.

He was expecting metal, not flesh and dodged back to avoid swinging and dismembering the man, or tried to, finding a new, low and tidy bookcase by the desk he hadn't remembered that met his knee and effectively toppled him helplessly beneath the man's reach. "I didn't kn... she knew.. I didn't... "

He bent over Trent wanting to pummel and maim, but jerked back, hauling Trent up with him. "You didn't know.. and how would she know what you are to me?" His voice shook as his anger dissipated. "You .... with her...?" His voice softened and he let go of the other man. "And she didn't kill you after.... You do realise... that's part of what she is.. what Phae is, does?"

[Lovely]

His voice left his throat for an awkward moment as he was lifted back to standing. What he was to Tarka? Meaning what, he was curious. His empty hand dusted himself off and pulled at his throat to ensure it hadn't been crushed, though it felt like it, the other still holding the blade for comfort and safety, somewhat for stability as he waivered against it like a walking stick, the point digging gently into the carpet. "No, she didn't kill me... quite the opposite," he grumbled. "And I really think I need to go apologize to her about now."

His brow raised and he laid a gentle hand on Trent's arm. "You look better with color... and your place looks nice... Quite the opposite, huh?" He rubbed at his chin and nodded. "Go on... " He motioned towrds the bedroom door, thinking there was someone he needed to be apologising to, himself.

"Closed doors, Tarka. She's a grown girl and I'm sorry... I didn't know," he said softly, almost in whisper, a great deal of regret ringing in his voice. Much of the interaction had been solely the heat and fire of the blood coursing through him in abundance. Some had been the pull of his attraction to her as well, but it wasn't like him to become attached... was it? Something still rang in his mind.. a forgotten something like the mist of distant dream. He shook his head and pulled the chair out to fall into it a moment, tossing the blade flat to the floor in frustration. "I never would have.. you know I wouldn't if I knew..."

Tarka studied his long time friend, his 'son' in a way.. in the vampire linage. "Oh.. don't... Trent... Had I not been in an angry fury... I look at you... You look better." He smiled softly. "You look alive, more alive than I have ever seen you looking. Don't be sorry for whatever caused that... just because it is connected to a foolish, irrational old codger." He motioned around the apartment, with its nearly sparkling floors and counters, the clutter was neatly organised and shelves held the volumes of books, scrolls and other parchament. Even his desk was neat, dishes done, couch clear and Trent was sitting in a chair he did not have to clear off first. "It even smells better in here... I have never.." Tarka shook his head at a loss. "Heck if all demons had this effect.. I'd quit my job." His eyes cast to the closed bedroom door and he smiled a little. "I rather it be you than some annoying hellspawn.... and the whole vampire linage.. it's really not the same as other blood relations.... so don't get all weird.."

His hands rubbed over his face before resting his chin in the crook of his thumbs. Watching Tarka over his fingertips, he frowned slightly. "All weird like what? Blood relations in what way? She's a demon, not a vampire..."

"Exactly.. that's my point. She's a demon and your a vampire... blood relations.. you know brother, sister. Vampire.. Sire , child... just didn't want you to think like 'eeew' I kissed my sister kinda thing."

His thumbs pushed his chin up, his fingers curving over his lip before lacing and dropping to his lap, his gaze following. He searched the floor for understanding as the combination of words washed over him. "I know we're good friends.. most of the time... but I'm not sure I follow you. She's your daughter, sure, I get that now, but the sire child thing? You want to elaborate on that a little?"'

He turned his gaze back to Trent with a raised brow. "Wow.. what did she do to you man? Having trouble with the english now?" His almost smile faded as he studied Trent. "You and me... I sired you, some would look at that as you being my son... she's my daughter... just wanted to make sure you weren't going to get all worried about that aspect."

He looked up from the floor beneath a wrinkled and burdened brow of confusion. "Your son? How do you figure? I was turned by those maggot ridden Nosferats.. made example of.. left to d... ," his gaze focused on him more. "You sired me?" He watched him closely. He said it plainly enough, but why now? Why, after a thousand years would it come up for him to tell him like this?

"Made an example of and left to die.... " He pulled a chair out and sat down facing Trent. "I had just returned.... She was probably waiting to be born.. or maybe being sent away already... I never liked the Nosferat... filthy vile beasts. A little too close to my roots.." He sighed. "I came upon a hoard of them, having a feast and one heck of a party.. in a place you called home... I killed them... all of them." He looked away and then back. "I was full of such fury and darkness still... They had begun their torture on you, before I came along.. and started to drain you for the turning." He played absently with his fingers. "I finished what they started, because something told me I should. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was mercy.. maybe it was too much pigs blood... whatever it was.. I looked down on you and instead of snapping your neck... I knelt beside you and took you in my arms. I drank you till I felt your heart bursting and then I gave you back... I sired you... so there... nice bedtime story for the kiddies."

[Lovely]

Tarka should have expected that he wouldn't thank him when he spoke softly. "Guess that makes you really popular today then. If you'll excuse me, let me see if she hasn't just gone out the window."

Tarka nodded and slowly stood, suddenly feeling his age as he never had before. He moved aside and let Trent go to the bedroom. He chewed his lip, having managed to push away two people he cared for deeply in a short time.

She had rifled through his clothes, finding a t-shirt which she'd ripped and tied to fit her more snuggly and a pair of his boxers and jeans, the cuffs folded and rolled, the waist pulled tight in a belt. She'd traded her beautifully adorned gold wrist cuffs for the supplies she'd brought back for him, but had not yet replaced her clothes that had been torn. She had pulled her hair up and grabbed her blades, she was half out the window when he came to check on her, barefoot as her boots were in the living room behind the couch.

"Take me with you," he said, closing the door behind him softly, offering her a thin smile. "Or don't go at all. I'm sorry, Sapph... and we need to talk... please."

Her bare feet wiggled as her long taunt legs kicked slightly, her firm rear rippling with the movements. She stilled and hung there a moment, her toes curling and uncurling. "Why would you want to come with me?" She shimmied back, part way in through the open window, turning to look at him as she remained suspended.

"Because I'd like to? Actually because I want you to stay. What I said... came out wrongly... and the timing was just...," he glanced back over his shoulder to the closed door and moved toward the bed, rather than to her, remaining unthreatening nor really stopping her, understanding why she would leave. He half-heartedly straightened the rumpled covers and pillows. "Just didn't want you to get embarassed in front of your father."

The reaction to him saying 'your father' was a jerking motion that caused her to slam her head off the underside of the window, the blades fell to the floor with a thud. A moment later she dropped to the floor, in a crouch and eyed him warily. "My..?" Her eyes shifted to the door and then back to Trent. She chewed her lip, looking distressed. "He doesn't like me." She spoke softly, rising to her feet to move closer to Trent, though she paused just short of him, seeming unsure of whether she could approach further.

He shook his head and patted the cushion beside himself as he sat down. "Actually he does... and he would like to speak with you too, but when you're ready. I'm not sure I have much else to say to him right now if you want some time alone to ... "

"I don't think he does." She said as she settled down next to Trent, curling her legs under her. She reached a hand to brush his cheek. "Have I caused you to be troubled?.. again.."

He shook his head again. "Nope, nothing you did. Not at all. I'm not too happy right now, that's all. Just got some really disturbing information and it's just taking time to sink in." He took her fingers and kissed them softly, looking over her make-shift street gear. "Looks good on you," he smiled.

[Lovely]

Her eyes travelled over his face as he spoke, her expression one of caring. She returned his smile, with a small soft one of her own. Her fingers curling around his as he kissed them, her other arm wrapping around him, in offer of comfort. "Thank you." She said quietly in response to his compliment. Her lips brushed over his softly and she whispered. "Can I help?...Any thing I can do?"

He nodded, leaning to kiss her gently. "Go meet him and talk to him... it's important."

About fifteen seconds after the door closed behind Trent, Tarka was out the door, closing it softly behind him. At least now he knew where she was... who she was. He would return when he was more composed to seek her out or perhaps wait in the darkness for her to be out, since Trent was not happy with him either. He returned to the Inn directly to seek Phae out.

She nodded, looking away a moment, she was not at all ready to face the man who was her father. She did not want to go in the other room, but she would go, if only to please Trent. He'd been most kind and she did not wish to distress him further. Sapphira rose slowly from the bed and went to the door, opening it, she glanced back at Trent then stepped into the other room. She left the door open as she glanced around, her brow furrowing.. the room was empty.

His own expression went toward curious and he followed, leaning at the doorway and watching her stand in the empty room. The room resonnated briefly from the sound of his palm cracking the doorframe slightly when it connected. "That son of a fuc... NGAAH...," he slipped into a lengthy, gutteral and multisyllabic curse in a language that rolled the growling fury from him gently, ending in a sigh and an arm around her in support. "I'm sorry Sapphira. He really does want to see you, but I guess it'll have to wait."

She shook her head as she turned into his arm and rested her head to his shoulder. "I told you, he doesn't like me." She trembled slightly, her arms slipping around his waist.

"Shhh... he doesn't know you... just like I didn't know he... nevermind. He'll be back and you'll be ready." He smiled playfully, tugging at the knot of the shirt she wore. "This won't do... I think you need to take it off," he teased, pulling her by the knot as he backed into the other room. "I'll take you to get something more suitable... in a while."

Her smile started to show as he teased and tugged at the shirt. "You don't like it?" She pouted, giving him a cute blink of her eyes, she followed him back to the other room. Her fingers playing with the belt she'd put on. "What about this? Do I need to take these off too?"

"Thinking so... accessorize... you know.. keep it simple, not too overdone...," he said, slipping back to the still-rumpled covers, pulling her up on top of him.

She pulled the knot free and the shirt over her head as she tumbled on top of him. The cloth floated to the floor as she leaned over him, her smile brighter now. "Is that a little better?" She asked, brushing over his lips, teasingly.

"Feeling better already," he whispered, not letting her get too far before a greedy kiss took her.