Neon Master

2

Now that she was gone he had no reason to be there aside from the fact that he was the owner. He had to stay until the closing time at midnight. Usually he would continue to roam the club, appreciating the multitude of gorgeous women, but he couldn't distract his mind from the demure beauty that he had just attempted to please. He knew he probably wouldn't see her again. Normally he wouldn't care, but there was something enticing about her.

Needing fresh air he left the club, sitting on the short brick border surrounding the bushes just outside the door. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag as he looked up at the stars. They weren't as clear as they had been before he got turned, the city lights too distracting. He had moved from London at the end of the twentieth century, needing a fresh start. He took along with him his maker's fortune that he left behind after his death. He used that money to start up Obsidian, taking after the club he used to frequent by the same name. Though he had given up sex for the most part, along with drugs, he still enjoyed the thrill of administering pleasurable pain. His club was all he had, along with his poetry, of which he had always been quite famous for.

He was pulled from his daze within the stars by sudden screams. The sound filled his oversensitive ears and he pulled the cigarette from his lips, looking toward the sound. Some people were running, dispersing across the street and down the sidewalk. Then he saw it, looking harder he could see a woman held at gunpoint. Then it became clear that it was the sweet young woman.

Annabel had left the club feeling so pitiful. Why hadn't she lasted longer? Just a little longer. She felt awful for the man, he had tried to excite her, and then he even let her go without so much as a dime. He was kind. She had thought he was so handsome, the fact that he was making the experience all the more thrilling. She'd like to say she'd let him do anything to her. If only.

She had barely left the place and now she was stopped by a man. She expected him to hit on her, ask for change or directions, but when he pulled out a gun she froze. Her eyes went wide and her heart spiked. Of all the luck she had, she just had to have crossed his path.

The man demanded her wallet. It took her a moment to register his words, and when she did she shakily went to pull out the debt card that was hidden in her bra.

Lucas's body surged with instant adrenaline. The image of his long lost love Rose getting shot flashed through his mind. It had been the biggest heartbreak for him, ruining his life. He wouldn't let it happen again. Especially not to this perfect, precious woman. He dropped his cigarette and sped in a blur toward the gunman. He stopped behind the man, and in a quick, fluid motion he snapped his neck.

Annabel froze again, her eyes going impossibly bigger. She didn't even know what the hell just happened, not until the body fell to the ground. She stared at Lucas for the longest moment, her mind trying to make sense of how he was possibly standing there. He hadn't been anywhere near the gunman. Hadn't been nearby at all. It was like he had materialized behind the man. There was no way he could be there. But then she snapped out of her shock, feeling utterly grateful; this man had just saved her life. If the man had even been planning to shoot her, but she didn't give any energy in thinking about it. All that mattered was that this handsome man was before her, her shining knight.

But then something overcame her, the fear that she had felt making her emotional, and she brought her hands up to her mouth, convulsing with a jolt of tears, then a second later she was crying.

Lucas couldn't believe he had just done that, he never used his ability in public. But no one had been paying attention enough to notice his disappearance or his blurred travel, hardly noticing his reappearance. Except of course, the woman before him. He was in just as much shock as she was, that his status was now made known to her. That someone, anyone, knew. Especially her. He didn't want her to know. It was certain that she'd run away. But when she started crying his lips parted and his expression fell into one of concern. He didn't know what to do, having never been around someone crying, nor had he ever had to or wanted to comfort someone. But he knew he couldn't just stand there, so he moved toward her, cautiously bringing his hands up to hold her shoulders. His touch was light, meant to comfort.