Deep glacier eyes turned to gaze into the shadows that surrounded her Sire. The dark beast of an Abyssal plane. She was one of his priestesses, and at this time, his lover. She had been for quite some time now.
Red eyes gazed back at the woman. Several moments passed before the beast stepped from the shadows. A frightening sight. The beast was as black as the Abyss he resided in. His height reached at least eight feet. Muscles rippled as he moved on strong legs toward where the woman stood. Behind him spread large bat like wings with silver claws at the tips. His large hands were clawed and looked as though he could easily cut a man in half.
A deep thundering rumble came as his voice, “Do you question my choices, Augyst?”
Augyst Rain gazed up at the beast with a slight smile that seemed to tease him. She was dressed in a filmy black dress that hugged her voluptuous curves, and hid nothing from the mind’s eye. Her blonde hair fell near to her knees in silky waves. Yes, she was a sight to behold. But to hold her was to live in a fantasy.
“Of course, not, Sire,” she purred, lowering her head just slightly. “I am just concerned for your welfare. I only wish to see you succeed.”
The beast gave a snort. Circling her, he reached out ,tilting her head back up with one claw. Slowly, he leaned in until his eyes met hers.
“I want a new bride, Priestess,” he stated firmly. His teeth glinting in the little light of the room. Daggers for teeth.
A milky white hand reached to touch the hand that held her chin. Her glacier blue eyes stared into the red orbs that studied her. Stepping backward, she moved to look into her scrying bowl.
“As you wish, Sire.”
Blonde hair hid her profile as she gazed into the scrying bowl. The beast stood behind her, gazing more at her body than at what she was doing. After several minutes, she turned to smile up at him. Bringing herself closer, she touched his stomach. After all, she was only five feet four inches in height.
“A human girl is what I see, Sire,” she said huskily. “From the same realm as Peiallai.”
A deep growl came from within him as the priestess mentioned the renegade assassin. It had been forbidden to speak Peiallai’s name for sometime. On rare occasion, the priestess would mention it…he kew her reasons. Soon…soon…
One large clawed hand brought her closer against his dark body as he rumbled, “I will have to make a visit then.”
Suddenly, his body shuddered. His form changed from one of beast to one of man. Augyst stepped back to admire him.
Standing now at six feet two inches, Syrius looked nothing like the beast he was. His form was muscular, broad shouldered, yet athletically lean. His skin was a light tan color as if perhaps having spent some time in the sun. His hair was black. His eyes a deep forest green that sent shivers down the spine of his priestess. A coy smile decorated the delicious lips of the man.
“Sire,” Augyst purred.
She was in his arms as her lips hungrily took his. The beast obliged for several moments before pushing her away. He grinned and turned.
“Prepare my way, Priestess,” he ordered as he disappeared into the shadows.
The portal opened onto a dark alley. From it stepped a handsome man dressed in black and dark crimson. Fixing the collar of his leather jacket, Syrius stepped from the alley onto a busy street. His green eyes gazed around him, getting a sense of where his priestess had sent him.
Ah, he was in Paris. Memories of the “romantic” city made him chuckle as he began walking the streets in search of his new bride.
In a loft apartment nearby, Tiffani Devereaux shifted uneasily on the couch. It was metal and wickerwork, and not very comfortable. She was dressed in the sheer, skintight, seethrough outfit Marc had given her to wear for the photoshoot. It was comfortable, but the way it clung to her it certainly didn't leave anything to the imagination!
Marc spoke from behind the camera tripod.
"A little more pout, baby! Arch your back! More sexy! More sexy!"
Tiffani gave another effort, giving it her most seductive look.
"More, baby! Make love to the lens!"
Tiffani sighed.
"Marc, do I really have to do this in this outfit? It feels... indecent."
Marc shook his head.
"Look, Tiffani, you want me to get a job with the agency, don't you? I need you to do your best - now, really thrust your chest out..."
Tiffani began to comply, then stopped.
"Marc, what if my father saw these pictures? He'd explode! And this thing makes my breasts look enormous! Models don't have breasts like these..."
Marc scowled.
"Models are also taller than 160 cm, Tiffani - you're no model! It's just for the shoot, okay? I'm trying to get you to look good, okay? I don't need your complaints..."
Tiffani had had enough. She stood up, grabbing her coat and bag.
"That's it, Marc. I'm going. Call me when you're prepared to treat me as more than a piece of meat."
Marc just blinked as Tiffani slipped on her shoes and hurried out of the apartment. She wouldn't show it, but she was close to tears. Marc was her first serious boyfriend, the first she had contemplated... being with... and he was turning into a complete jerk. Maybe he'd lost interest in her. Well, she didn't need him! She...
But then, out on the busy street, Tiffani had a sudden strange feeling. As if someone - or something - was watching her...
The city was bustling with activity. Shop keepers selling wares. People enjoying the air by eating outside of cafes. It was one of those days that had the tinge of happiness and romance in the air.
Yet, among all this gay atmosphere, walked a dark beast. In one of his humna forms, Syrius walked the streets of Paris. His forest greens eyes kept gaze at all the women he passed. Be it an aristocrat, a shopkeeper's daughter, a beggar on in an alley, hiding her rags from sight...every woman he passed, he gazed and studied. Yet,none seemed to sate that feeling.
He was standing at a street corner, admiring a building across the way when he noticed a lovely young woman step from the building. A dark eyebrow arched just sligtly as he watched her, though it seemed he was still looking at the building's architecture.
The man stood with hands in pockets and ead tilted just slightly. A coy smile decorated his lips as he continued to study...a possibility? Perhaps...
It had been a beautiful spring day in Paris, but it was raining in Tiffani's heart as she started to walk off down the street. She couldn't help feeling that everyone was staring at her. And she knew why. Her face was plastered with the garish makeup Marc had insisted on. Beneath her skimpy raincoat she was effectively naked, for all the good her 'costume' was. She felt she looked like a whore, and Rue de Boulangere at 14.30 was not the place for whores, even if it was a look Tiffani was comfortable with in the first place. Which she wasn't. She'd tried to look sexy for Marc, and his stupid merde photoshoot! God knows! And then he had the cheek to make out she didn't look good enough! Not 'sexy' enough! Jesus Christ, as her mother used to say!
Absorbed in her own self pity, and eyes downcast against the disapproving stares she imagined from all directions, Tiffani didn't even see the man in front of her until she stumbled into him.
With a yelp, Tiffani staggered back a step, almost falling in her unaccustomed high heels.
"Oh! I am sorry! I..."
Tiffani Devereaux looked up.
Into the green eyes of Syrius.
A hand reached carefully to grasp her elbow so she would not fall. A warmer smile, that of a stranger, formed on pillowy lips. His forest green eyes met hers as she looked.
"I beg your pardon, madamoiselle," he replied in a smooth voice tainted with a slight French accent. "I am afraid I was not looking where I was going..."
Letting go of her elbow, he stepped back and studied her.
"Are you in a hurry to somewhere?"
Tiffani gulped, looking at the handsome stranger.
"Pardon, monsieur, I am very clumsy. No, I am not really in a hurry. I..."
Tiffani was very conscious of how she must have looked.
"I... I am just going to go home and get changed."
Tiffani remembered that Marc had driven her to his apartment. To get home, she'd have to brave the underground subway. Looking as she currently did, it was not a prospect that appealed to her.
An eyebrow arched just slight at her stammering. He gazed up and looked around at those that passed by him. He had noted how she seemed rather self conscious of something.
"Where are you going?" he asked politely. "I was just about to hail a cab..." Rocking on the back of his heels, he stuffed his hand in his pockets. "I live aways from here..."
"I just thought I'd go home - no 818, Rue de Grenelle..."
Tiffani almost put her hand to her mouth, as she realized she just divulged her home address to a stranger. She smiled, trying to cover up, blushing.
"Pardon, monsieur - I live there with my father. I am a student at the Ecole Nationale d'Administration..."
Tiffani's blush deepened. She couldn't understand why she was revealing all this information to a man on the street.
"...I just thought I would take the Underground."
As she spoke, his smile seemed to widen in amusement. The dark forest green of his eyes twinkled with mirth and dark amusement. He merely stood watching her talk and blush. Not a very bright girl it would appear, but appearances were not all that they seemed to be.
After she stopped talking, he began walking away from her. His voice seemed very near her ear though he walked away, "Well, I was going to hail a cab. I live in that direction, but if you wish to brave the Underground in the outfit you are wearing...I am not one to intercede with someone else's business."
He was a block away from her as the last words were spoke. So close was his voice, it sounded much like he was right behind her, whispering in her ear. Stopping at a small flower cart, the man spoke with the elderly woman who owned the cart. Smiling, the woman gave him several roses and daffodils. Bowing, he thanks her, going about his way...
It was a lure...no spell had been cast as of yet...but there was some sort of pull about the man...
Tiffani watches him go. Her knees feel weak, she feels dazed, as if she's just been in the presence of some overwhelming power...
Shaking her head to try and clear it, she hurries on her way.
"No, No, tigre," the girl ruffled the fur atop the cat's head as it set the mouse down before her, "That is your prize."
The cat looked up at her with its large gold eyes and then nudged the 'meal' to her. As ordinary as the cat was, it was beautiful in it's own way. It's long, fluffy fur stuck out from all sides and glowed like a tigers eye jewel in the dying sun light.
"Please chaton, I do not want your supper," Vi sighed, picking up the cat and arranging it on her lap with the old blankets that kept her warm
"You must eat too," sadness crept into the dusty blue eyes that peered out from a dirty face and she scratched beneath the cats chin, "I will find food in the morning, petit un."
The man dressed in black, and now carrying several roses and daffodils, stood near where the young girl sat talking to her friend cat. Turning his head, he gazed back to where Tiffani still stood. her lack of response made him wonder if the girl had heard him or was just now ignoring him. No matter.
Turning on his heel, his eyesight caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a homeless girl child under blankets and a very strange looking cat in her lap. His dark forest green eyes gazed over her briefly, though it seemed he was looking at the building she was huddling against.
Smiling, he whispered softly, "What is a beauty doing in the shadows, mon petite?"
Vi seemed oblivious to the man that stood 'admiring the building'. It was not unusual for people to stop and stare, but rarely did they say anything. Those that did were usually other street dwellers or children that didn't know any better than to ask why the girl was sleeping in the corner. Hopping out of Vi's lap to retrieve the mouse, the tiger cat's ears flattened as it turned it's golden gaze to the man. With a twitching tail, and a low growl, it eyed the man as if he was going to steal its 'prize'.
"Non, non, peu de bijou, qui n'est pas gentil," Vi murmured to the cat as she scooped it up into her arms and then hugged it to her small bosom.
Turning her dusty blue gaze to the man, she studied him with unmasked curiosity. Never did one of his stature stop to speak to her. For a moment, she wondered if this man was a seller of flowers. The smell of the roses and daffodils must have been overpowering to him, for the scent reach her nose from his distance.
" Mes excuses, monsieur aimable," she began in French, before immediately returning to English, "My kitty did not mean to growl at you."
The girl, perhaps 16 or 17 years of age, petted the cat's head. It appeared that she thought "the beauty", that the stranger referred to, was the cat.
"She is very hungry," she continued, offering a small smile "I think she thought you were going to take her supper."
Pausing, as if to consider the man's question, the girl pressed her pale pink lips together before speaking, "Mlle Bijou likes the shadows. They are cold when it is hot and people don't kick at her because she is in the way."
The girl nodded, the poof of wild curls that framed her face bobbing.
It was verging on the evening, and Claudia still hadn't gotten the exact shot she'd been hoping for. She turned the camera to do a vertical shot and leaned a bit more forward over the docks, her finger easing on the zoom button. The sunset swept brilliantly across the waves of the water that surrounded the island that held Paris' central government building. It was a shot she'd been hired to do by a worldwide magazine, and she intended to make it good. With a sigh, she sat back on her heels and looked around for a better vantage point.
Claudia de Bricassart had lived in Paris all her life, and although the illusion of it being such a romantic city had be numbed to her, there were still parts of it she found breathtaking. She was a reserved woman with a successful career doing exactly what she'd always wanted to do. Yet, something felt missing in her life. She brushed a section of strawberry blonde hair from her forehead and absently tried to tuck it back into the twist of hair on her head as she rocked to her feet and stood, groaning a little at the stiffness in her knees from kneeling for so long. All of her attention and focus was at that island and waterline. She wanted to get a few more shots in before the light was gone and she'd have to make her way home.
The forest green eyes focused on the cat as it growled on him. His lips curled into an amused smile as he stared back.
His voice was soft, and smooth as he suddenly began to speak French, "Crainte pas, Bijou, je ne prendrai pas votre prix. "
Forest green met the dusty blue gaze of the homeless girl child for awhile. He stood up more, smiling more pleasantly. Then, he offered her a single rose and daffodil.
"Fleur, peu de beauté? "
He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head, never really taking his eyes from her.
"Aucun besoin de faire des excuses, mon petite beaute'. Bon nombre d'entre nous sont protecteurs de ceux que nous nous tenons fortement.
He stepped closer toward the young girl.
"Are you hungry, mon ami?" he asked curiously.
The cat gave a short growl after the man spoke to it. Squirming from the girls grasp, it leapt to the pebbled ground. With the mouse in its mouth, it padded away as regal as any other cat. "Bijou, mon kitty, ne partent pas!" Fear had heightened Vi's voice as she scrambled from the blankets that twisted about her slim body. The cat she was after just paused and then ran off to eat its supper.
"S'il vous plaît ne partez pas, kitty," the girl started to cry as the cat disappeared.
Tears, which sparkled under the streetlights, streaked her dirty face and muddied the white sleeve she wiped them on. Sitting back on her legs, the girl wore a thin nightdress that had once been white.
"Fleur, peu de beauté?" The strange man offered her two beautiful flowers.
Sniffling, she pressed herself against the cold stone wall behind her, as if expecting to disappear from his sight. With wide eyes, she looked back to the beautiful flowers as he told her there was no need to excuse the actions of her kitty. The bright red and yellow of the flowers intrigued her and caused her to reach out and touch the delicate pedals of the daffodil. It was not often that she seen such beauty. Not in the dismal and grey places she was forced to survive in.
"Are you hungry, mon ami?" He asked her while stepping closer.
Looking back up at him, she shook her head.
"No," she murmured just loud enough to be heard. It was obviously a lie. The girl was thin and dirty. One could practically see the hunger in her blue cat eyes.
She paused in her walking as she saw an old flower vender holding a bouquet in one hand near her cart, beckoning to the people passing by. With a grin, she pulled out her camera and walked to the wall nearby, crouching down, she lifting the camera to her face to focus the woman in the frame.
As Claudia looked through the lens she caught a movement not far behind the flower vender, and she lowered her camera and squinted to see what it was. A slow grin crossed her lips and she lifted the camera to her face again and eased her finger along the zoom button. She saw a wealthy looking, incredibly handsome man offering flowers to a homeless girl. Beautiful image.
As her dirty hand carefully reached out to touch the bright flowers, Syrius moved slowly to wipe away the tears that sparkled in her eyes. His forest green eyes became soft and filled with concern.
"Mon ami," he started, "Don't cry. No need to cry."
He suddenly felt someone watching him and the homeless girl child. His head tilted down and slightly to the side. Catching movement several yards away from the elderly woman's flower cart, he blinked and turned his head more to focus on Claudia. A flash of a charming smile was her greeting as he returned his attention back to Vi.
"Tell me you name, Little Beauty," he asked softly. "Tell me, and we shall go feast, hmmm?" A large hand went out to her as he still let her pet the soft, delicate flowers of the roses and daffodils.
Claudia pressed on the button and the picture was taken. She was good enough to know that she'd gotten a great shot. She zoomed in a bit more when she noticed the man looking in her direction through the lens and she froze. Her camera hadn't flashed, he must be looking at someone else. Then he smiled at her and she felt a strong pang in her heart, and she clicked another picture off. With that she stood, the camera still in her hands and the tote bag over her shoulder. She walked forward enough to see the man clearly and leaned a shoulder against the wall to watch out of curiousity. She found it odd that one man should intrigue her so much. That very rarely happened.
Vi shied away from the man's touch at first and then froze. Studying him like an animal trapped in a corner, it took her a minute before trusting him at all. "Mais mes kitty," she whimpered softly, her shoulders slumping a bit.
Shifting her gaze to the woman with the camera as he did, she bowed her head further, causing her wild puff of curls to bounce forward and hide her face.
"J'ai Vi ans, monsieur," she answered after he asked her of her name.
Leaning forward a bit, she pulled her touch from the flowers that he held out and cautiously smelled them. They were the greatest perfume one could wear. And, oh, they were so pretty.
Brushing hair from her eyes with the back of her had, she gazed back at the strange man. She had never seen anyone with such green eyes. She tilted her head, her lips parting a bit before she spoke.
"Your eyes are the couleur of jungle trees, monsieur, just like pretty pictures," she said innocently, not yet taking his offered hand.
As he heard the snap of her camera, he again shot her a sideways glance and a smile. Was that a wink of his eye to her? Her footsteps toward him and the homeless girl child were also heard. He seemed to relax more, and that smile seemed to invite the photographer closer.
He watched without speaking the girl as she leaned forward the smell the flowers. A hand reached out slowly to brush back the tumble of curls that hid her face. AS her face tilted up to study him, and her comment escaped her lips, his hand cup her face.
A warm, gentle smile curled on his lips as he replied, "Pourquoi, merci, peu assez. Et où avez-vous vu de telles images? "
The cat was forgotten by him. All he was focused on was the girl child and the woman with the camera. All he needed to do was get them in one place together.
Seeming to forget everything that had previously happened, Vi scrambled to retrieve something lost in the folds of the many blankets near the stairs. The tears, that had once streaked her dirty face, were now replaced by a bright smile as the girl pulled free a small postcard of Puerto Rico. There was no jungle, but the many trees that reached into the sunset and framed the white sand beaches were in fact a magnificent green. " Voyez! C'est la jungle," she declared, holding up the wrinkled postcard, nodding as she continued, "Un jour j'irai à la jungle."
She turned the card around to admire it, as if it was the first time she had ever set her gaze upon it's beauty.
" Avez-vous jamais été à la jungle, monsieur?" She had looked back up at him. Her words were quick with excitement.
Peeking just around the corner, the tiger cat remained hidden as it watched its friend and the stranger.
Claudia watched as the man seemed to smile at her, and though her sensible side said that any man on the street, no matter how handsome, smiling at you was one you should steer clear of. And yet, there was something so intriguing, so pulling about this man that she found herself taking a few steps closer.
She was about a half a block away when she stopped and leaned against the wall again, simply watching as the man held the young girl's face, sparing herself a glance now and again. How odd. Yet it was such a moving picture that she didn't hesitate in taking another shot of it with her camera. The man surely didn't seem to mind, and the girl, well, if this was ever published she seemed like she certainly could use the money she could make from it, should she be noticed. She tilted her head a bit, that stray section of reddish-blonde hair slipping free again. Yes, the girl was quite lovely.
Seeming to forget everything that had previously happened, Vi scrambled to retrieve something lost in the folds of the many blankets near the stairs. The tears, that had once streaked her dirty face, were now replaced by a bright smile as the girl pulled free a small postcard of Puerto Rico. There was no jungle, but the many trees that reached into the sunset and framed the white sand beaches were in fact a magnificent green.
" Voyez! C'est la jungle," she declared, holding up the wrinkled postcard, nodding as she continued, "Un jour j'irai à la jungle."
She turned the card around to admire it, as if it was the first time she had ever set her gaze upon it's beauty.
" Avez-vous jamais été à la jungle, monsieur?" She had looked back up at him. Her words were quick with excitement.
His charming smile widened and brightened at Vi's sudden change of mood. Her excitement was refreshing. He crouched down onto the balls of his feet as he gazed at the postcard she showed him. He wondered where she got it when her words made him chuckle softly.
"Oui, mon ami," he answered, as his hand again caressed her face gently. " J'ai été à la jungle. Très passionnant! "
He was more aware of Claudia's presence as the photographer moved closer and took another picture. It would be a pity when she developed those pictures. He would have to somehow get ahold of it to create an illusion spell to it.
He rocked back onto his heels as he took a rose and placed it in Vi's tumble of curls. His forest green eyes twinkled brightly as he tiled his head to study her.
"Ampèreheure! Une si belle vision! " he exclaimed.
Leaning in close to her, he whispered, "Est-ce que ne me joindrez-vous pas pour que quelque chose mange, peu de beauté?"
He stood then, glancing over his shoulder to Claudia. He winked at her with an inviting smile. Was he perhaps coaxing her to join him and the homeless girl? He looked back down to Vi.
"Nous irons n'importe où vous voudrions," he promised to Vi.
His charming smile widened and brightened at Vi's sudden change of mood. Her excitement was refreshing. He crouched down onto the balls of his feet as he gazed at the postcard she showed him. He wondered where she got it when her words made him chuckle softly.
"Oui, mon ami," he answered, as his hand again caressed her face gently. " J'ai été à la jungle. Très passionnant! "
Claudia was close enough now to hear fractions of what was being said. She hadn't realized she'd started walking again, ever-so slowly. This man was probably the most beautiful and intriguing man she'd ever seen, and the girl was....stunning, she noticed once he'd pushed her mass of hair back. When she developed these, no one would believe her that this wasn't a scene she'd staged with models. She'd love to make a model out of this poor girl and save her from this life of hers.
He was more aware of Claudia's presence as the photographer moved closer and took another picture. It would be a pity when she developed those pictures. He would have to somehow get ahold of it to create an illusion spell to it.
He rocked back onto his heels as he took a rose and placed it in Vi's tumble of curls. His forest green eyes twinkled brightly as he tilted his head to study her.
"Ampèreheure! Une si belle vision! " he exclaimed.
Leaning in close to her, he whispered, "Est-ce que ne me joindrez-vous pas pour que quelque chose mange, peu de beauté?"
He stood then, glancing over his shoulder to Claudia. He winked at her with an inviting smile. Was he perhaps coaxing her to join him and the homeless girl? He looked back down to Vi.
"Nous irons n'importe où vous voudrions," he promised to Vi.
Claudia took those few steps more and spoke in a soft, music voice, "Le pardon moi, mais moi n'a pas pu aider mais noter les deux de vous. Mon nom est Claudia de Bricassart, je suis un photographe."
She smiled slightly at the girl, she wasn't the type that went around introducing herself to random people, but for some reason she felt comfortable asking, "Vous avez pu avoir entendu parler de moi, mais si vous n'avez pas, de moi faites beaucoup de diffusions de magasin. Est-ce que cela dérange l'un ou l'autre de vous si votre image est utilisée?"
As Claudia came within conversing distance of Syrius and Vi, he paused in his speaking with the homeless girl to gaze up at the beautiful photographer with deep jungle green eyes. His pillowy lips curled into a warm smile that easily greeted her and seemed to invite her to indulge in many unspoken pleasures. As Claudia introduced herself and explained her approaching them, a hand had gone to place another rose in Vi's unruly tumble of hair. Yet, he kept eye contact solid with Claudia.
As she finished, he looked to Vi,"J'ose la parole, peu de beauté, il semble que votre chance est haute courante ce jour, hmmm?"
Chuckling, he stood, grasping Vi's hand, which sort of forced the girl onto her feet. Yet, he was gentle with her. It might have appeared that he had decided for the homeless child that she was to join him for something to eat.
Again, he addressed Vi, "Non seulement vous mangerez un régal, mais la belle femme de thie vous demande de modeler pour elle! Vous devez maintenant améliorer des choses, peu de beauté! Et bientôt... hors fonction à la jungle avec vous! "
Then, he looked to Claudia.
" Seulement si vous, Madamoiselle Claudia, nous joindrez pour que quelque chose mange... et peut-être va pour une fête d'achats pour Vi ici..."
Again, he gave that charming smile to the photographer, offering his free arm, whose hand still held the bouquet of daffodils and roses.