Swan Dance • twilight * pjo

.T W O.

  THE MOMENT THEIA SWAN HAD THE ABSOLUTE DISPLEASURE OF MEETING EDWARD CULLEN WAS THE EXACT MOMENT SHE REALIZED WHY HER UNCLE CHARLIE DIDN'T LIKE HIM. Her uncle had always been uniquely sensitive to the presence of monsters, to a near baffling extent that had her sometimes questioning the man's lineage. Her father had once told her that his survival into adulthood had largely been attributed to his younger brother's innate ability to sense monsters, even if he didn't always know they were monsters. Edward Cullen was no exception. The moment Theia had seen his unnaturally pale skin that seemed to almost shimmer beneath the dim lights of the Swan's mismatched kitchen, she knew exactly what he was. The glinting amber that peered out from beneath full lashes and caterpillar brows, not enough to trick the girl who'd encountered his kind far too much for comfort.

  She'd always been able to pick them out of a crowd with particular ease. The unnatural pallor that seemed to glint beneath bright lighting, a complete glitter bomb beneath direct sunlight that made them near-impossible to overlook. They were created to be physically perfect. Flawless and charming, a glamour meant to lure in unsuspecting mortals with the same intensity of Pithos to Pandora. Vampires, such as the Cullen abomination who looked upon her as if he'd smelled a rotten egg the moment he stepped into the kitchen. His gaze blackened by a lust she dared him to try and sate, her hands itching to free her daggers from the confines of her bun.

  It was the ichor within her blood that sang a sirens song, sweeter than ambrosia for such creatures whose fangs could fell a demigod with a single nip. No demigod had ever survived a vampire bite; the venom that fueled their bodies a deadly toxin that ensured an agonizing demise as their internal organs burned for days until their hearts finally failed. A horrific fate she'd only once bore witness too when a new camper ran afoul a vampire coven. A son of Ares far too eager to prove himself as he fell victim to his own hubris; his fatal flaw the compass that guided him directly into a poorly laid ambush. The pride of youth and inexperienced hands a nightmarish mix that led to vampire fangs piercing the flesh of a boy barely into his teens. His fate was sealed the moment he stumbled upon the Coven...as was the Covens when they chose a son of Ares as their prey...

Theia could still hear his screams, a phantom within her skull as vividly as the blood stains etched upon trembling hands that struggled to stop the blood that pooled beneath him. His neck a gaping wound, flesh barely recognizable as blood stained every smidge of exposed skin a blackened hue as his screams - guttural and unrelenting - tore through his vocal codes until the moment his voice box failed three hours later, leaving him shaking and whispering his agony into the unrelenting warmth of Cabin 7. He suffered for hours before a judgement call was made, a final act of mercy granted as Nicholas Bright, the Head of Cabin 7, dragged a blade across his throat.

  Conrad Anderson, Theia would never forget his name, one of many she vowed to remember.

"Bella, it's...it's been a while," the awkward tension that lingered over them felt like a weighted blanket as Theia tried to focus upon the mahogany haired teen currently tucked into the abominations side. Her memories of her cousin were vague, speckled moments of the few Christmas' they spent together growing up. Each one muddled by the passage of time and lack of any strong emotional attachment to give them weight within her mind. They were little more than familiar strangers with shared interest so few every interaction between them was a painfully awkward experience as neither of them really knew how to approach the other. It was a fact more glaring now than before as Theia tried to find the necessary words to alleviate the thickening weight of conversation, her usual charisma seemingly lost upon the dryness of her traitorous tongue. "You look great, Edward definitely lucked out."

A flush dusted upon pallor cheeks, following the sharp lines of her pronounced cheekbones. A sight far too welcome as her cousins dark gaze flickered towards the creature, glistening with concern beneath full lashes. Furred brows little more than narrowed lines upon a forehead slightly too large for her heart shaped face. Her narrow lips greatly reminiscent of a fish as she struggled to formulate her response. Theia could practically see the cogs in her mind trying to fit together her words. "I...thank you, though I...I'd say I'm the lucky one."

Theia smiled - she knew even without a mirror it more closely resembled a sneer. Her every instinct battling against rational thought as the itch to dispatch the abhorrent creature warred within her; growing more potent the longer she stood within his presence. His inhuman existence and ancient gaze were a glaring testament to his abominable nature, a testament to the murderous monstrosity festering beneath flesh she knew felt like stone after a deep freeze. The knowledge that he likely was apart of a larger coven, paired with his close proximity to her cousin and uncle, the only reason she hadn't flung herself at the creature. She'd learned the consequences of rushing into situations and blindly following instinct over rational, she'd never make that mistake again.

"Bella is special," his voice was heavy, breathless as Theia let her gaze linger upon his twisted features. "I'm grateful for her presence in my life."

"You should be, us Swan women are quite the catch," Theia chimed, choosing to entertain the abomination just long enough to garner the information she needed to properly handle the coven. It seemed that he was oblivious to her origins, merely finding her scent irresistible. A truth which Theia was keen to use to her advantage, let them think her a simple human until she chose to attack - by then it'd be too late for the simpering abominations.

What Theia did find surprising, however, was his current restraint. The struggle in which he fought against his inherent vampiric nature in face of what he likely assumed to be his blood singer. A restraint she'd never witnessed despite the multitude of Covens she'd aided in handling, not that she was commending him for resisting his murderous inclination. More-so she was questioning the motive behind his actions as her gaze fixated upon the sickening aura that pulsed between them. Theia had seen it before, far more times than she cared to admit as the aura of love that flowed between them pulsed a shade of darkened mahogany juxtaposed with harshened lines of obsessiveness that skewed their dynamic into the depths of an unhealthy codependency. Likely birthed from a pit of selfishness and idolization, their love dark, twisted, obsessive. A parlous love she'd witnessed most prevalently during her ventures beyond Camp. Always sickening and thick, tragedy etched into the darkened mass of the mahogany bond, fated to end the way all others before them had.

Her uncle cleared his throat, drawing her eyes from the object of her attention. Her uncles eyes were flickering as if following a ping-pong match, a torrent of unanswered concerns on full display as his eyes locked upon hers. Theia couldn't offer him the answers he was looking for, not at present.

"As much as I'm enjoying whatever this is," he motioned with his hand. "We have a reservation. Thank you, for dropping her off."

"Right, of course," Edward had not once torn his gaze from her, still standing in the entryway as if afraid to enter further. Good. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Theia."

She ground her teeth, response acid upon her tongue. "Likewise."

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- LORE RECAP -
Vampires are mythological monsters - as such they're immune to all mortal weaponry and attacks. However - Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron, and Imperial Gold can cut through their stone like flesh with ease. They still need to be burned to fully kill them, which is the biggest difference between vampires and regular monsters.
One bite from a vampire is a death sentence for demigods, ichor and venom do not blend well.