The Last Corvus (completed)

Ch. 27 Isadora

Chapter 27

Isadora

After a rather long shocked silence, I ask what joining them would entail. He says not much, but I don't really believe him. Supposedly they walk the streets looking for muggers, rapists, thieves, and other bad guys (to beat up, not let join). After some deliberating I ask him more questions; getting the same general response. They're the good guys (Hank being a sort of bad apple, apparently).

The tops of buildings are lightening; the sun's coming up. Hard to believe it's only been one night since I ran away. Demetrius notices the sun and lets out a sharp ululating whistle.

The others appear, slightly out of breath, from around the backs of buildings and rooftops. They mumble when they notice that I'm still here and he snaps his fingers, bringing them to silence. "You know the drill, we need to get home. We," he gestures to me, "will run. I expect you all to be there in half an hour. No exceptions."

The others walk off in groups, still mumbling, while Hank stares at me murderously. "Why is she coming? We don't need her. We're out of our limits; you heard what Janet said. Besides, what can a little girlie like her do for us?" He says her name like 'Jan-A'. Who is that? Is she another vampire? Finding myself suddenly intrigued, I can't wait to meet her.

Demetrius doesn't seem to appreciate his 'constructive criticism,' staring Hank down even more murderously than Hank stared at me. Hank finally starts to look afraid as he's backed up into an alley wall.

In the time it takes me to blink, he has him by the throat, pressed into the bricks, his feet a foot or so off the ground, brick rubble raining down from the small crater behind his head. "What are you doing? Let him down! Demetrius!" Hank groans and I can tell it's mostly from the pain, but also likely because he's told me his name.

He doesn't loosen his grip; exactly the opposite, actually. He smiles at me sadly and squeezes harder, drawing blood from where his nails dig into Hank's neck.

"Stop! You'll kill him! Let. Him. Go." With 'go' I spring forward and grab the wrist holding Hank with one hand. Squeezing with all my might, I slowly rotate until I hear bones scraping together, snapping.

Demetrius screams and draws his hand to his chest, cradling it with his other hand. Hank slumps to the ground and slowly stands, bracing his hands on his knees, wiping his neck on his sleeve. Demetrius looks at me in surprise and then smiles slowly, letting it reach his eyes. "You pass."

Wait... what? That was a test?! Would he have actually killed him if I hadn't intervened?

Hank gets it, even if he looks like he's about to rip Demetrius's head off. Which I don't think he could, even though he's built like an ox. "You HOLE! That was a test? No warning- none AT ALL! Not cool."

He wipes one last trickle off his neck and storms off, leaving me looking at Demetrius like he should be committed to an asylum.

He sees my look and shrugs, "what? We can't have someone heartless on the team, now can we?" Okay, I see his point, even if only begrudgingly.

"You're sadistic," I point at him and then cross my arms. Or try to, his coat's huge on me, making me vaguely resemble a black bubble.

"What? You think I could actually kill him?" He looks slightly offended.

"Why not? I only just met you. I don't know anything about you. Except the fact that you could easily kill him."

"Touché."

Is it just me, or is it getting lighter? Apparently it is, because Demetrius's started scratching his arm. Lin said vampires only get itchy when they're either really old or haven't eaten in a while.

"How old are you? I don't mean to pry; I'm just curious."

"What an improper question. I would never ask a lady that. But since you asked, I'm nearly two hundred."

"Oh, that's not that old. When was the last time you ate?" I dread his answer, yet at the same time I'm severely curious.

"Much longer ago than I would have liked. Much longer than I should go. You smell vaguely human. Did you know that? You need to be careful." Now he tells me.

"How would I know what I smell like? Plus, are we really going to stand here talking about our sense of smell or are we going to go wherever you were planning on meeting the others? The sun's almost up, in case you haven't noticed."

Without any warning he runs down the alley. I chase after him and, too soon for it to be any real fun, pass him. He mentally laughs and I giggle back, finally getting to run again. What has it been? Fifteen minutes? I stop every now and then at intersections to see if we turn and then continue running; at least a good fifty feet ahead of him at any given time.

I look back and... he's gone. Backtracking, I find him leaning against the wall of an off-chuting alley, waiting for me.

"What, no warning? Are you trying to run away from me?" I try to sound serious, but I think I came off almost coy.

He steps away from the wall, holding up his hands defensively, "I wouldn't dare! You'd catch me before I got very far, anyway. Plus, if I hadn't stopped, you never would have known where to turn."

He has a point there; but all I can think is you can't handle my mad skills! I'd catch him in a second, no real sport.

We stand there in silence, listening for anyone nearby, and shrug in unison. I don't even know where we are anymore. I wait a second, giving him a chance to show me which direction to run in and chase after him, this time checking my speed. A few more minutes of running next to Demetrius and he stops, making me run into his shoulder.

"What was that for?" He pulls out a bandanna from his pocket and I cant help but point to it accusingly, "what is that for?"

"Sorry. Safety precaution, I fear. We can't let you know where we live until Janet approves you. It's not that we don't trust you, not that at all, it's just procedure." He shrugs.

I'm about to tell him that I have no idea where we are, let alone where we're going, when he comes at me with the bandanna. All arguments disappear from my mind as I'm overwhelmed with the need to escape. And to tell him where he can stuff that bandanna.

Biting my tongue, I let my blood trickle down my throat, causing me to pay more attention to the revulsion than to the fight-or-flight reflex. He ties it securely (I know 'cause I try to wiggle my ears to see if it'll loosen, which, in hindsight, is stupid. I can't wiggle my ears) and begins to slowly guide me down alleys and around corners.

The sun is barely up, just illuminating the building tops, yet I'm driven into a darkness I had grown unaccustomed to this last day or so. It makes me think back to the maze under the zoo... even though that was underground, and who knows how many miles away.

It sounds the same; our footfalls echoing off the brick alley walls around us rather than concrete.