Owe You My Sins [GxG]

Chapter 11

She nervously ran a hand through her hair, fighting the wind to hold the look together. She'd dressed up for the sake of the festival, but somehow, she still felt inadequate. It wasn't like she looked bad; she just worried it wasn't quite up to standard. Two braids ran from the crown of her head to join at the back, falling into billowing streams of ebony-brown over her back. She had left her bangs hanging, significantly shorter than the rest of her hair and naturally curling to rest just above her jawline. She had on an emerald tunic, fancy in make, but simple compared to what she knew to be the norm in other kingdoms. She had kept her bear cloak strewn over her shoulders, for even a festival wasn't reason enough to go cold.

Maeven was stood in front of the inn with Saibh, Una and Brighton by her side. They had waited a while already, and Saibh was quickly voicing her complaints. Even Una couldn't put a stop to her muttered swears. They were still awaiting Illythia and Conan—the latter because he took far too long to tame his short locks. Brighton was leant against a post resignedly, already used to her partner needing an absurd amount of time to get ready. Maeven couldn't even imagine what he was doing in there to take so long. But on the other hand, none of them had seen or spoke to the immortal since earlier that evening.

After Maeven had woken up, she'd made the short trip to the washroom to prepare for their outing. Illythia wasn't there when she had arrived, and the others—who were only just making their way back from their 'fun', much to her frustration—hadn't run into her either. Truthfully, Maeven was growing worried. She just couldn't think of any reason the immortal wouldn't be punctual. It just didn't seem like something Illythia would do. She was prim and proper, and well-versed in etiquette, possibly even more so than Maeven herself. Tardy wasn't a word Maeven imagined being in the silver woman's vocabulary.

When Conan finally slammed through the door and carelessly strolled his way down beside them, Maeven finally started to panic. When anyone managed to be later than Conan, it was a well-known cause for concern. And for the immortal to be later than that buffoon? Implausible.

"Where is she?" Maeven's eyes were squinted, and she was hugging herself tight to refrain from fidgeting.

No one had an answer.

As they all began making their way towards the main street together, the others didn't seem to be quite as bothered as she was. It made Maeven wonder if she was the odd one out, feeling so put-off by Illythia's absence. It made sense to her to worry about their companion's whereabouts, especially since she was the sole reason they were even in Elsbury to begin with. Maeven was looking around incessantly, scourging the village for the silver-haired vampire. Her mind was flying too fast to comprehend any of the idle chatter the others tried to pull her into, and they gave up quickly.

Saibh slapped her on the back, "come on, Maeven. Cheer up! She's probably just off skulking about, y'know... doing whatever 'em vampire folk do in their free time.

"Eating people," Conan waved a hand at her distractedly, gnawing on some jerkey he'd stashed in his pockets. "She means eating people. Best leave her to it."

"That is so not what I meant."

Maeven's brows furrowed and her face paled as the words hit her like a knife to the chest. Could Illythia really be out there, stalking some poor villager? It made sense, or at least it somewhat did. She hadn't seen the woman eat a damn thing, after all. Did Maeven put Elsbury at risk by bringing a vampire right to them? The thought made her teeth grit together, and she glanced around wildly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and the locals were as upbeat and lively as ever. It didn't look like there was a predator among them. But how could she be sure? That was the point of vampires, after all; you weren't supposed to see them coming.