take me home, where i belong

A Picture Paints a Thousand Words

"Carmilla!" someone yelled.

For God's sake. This was not beneficial for her. Carmilla had just spiralled slowly into a surprisingly pleasant dream – and now she was being dragged back to consciousness.

Cursing humans' invasive sleeping patterns, she groaned and rolled over in her bed.

"Carmilla, have you been reading your emails lately?" LaFontaine sighed, their head appearing from the doorframe. Why were they here, and how did they get here? Oh, yes, LaFontaine had practically insisted so they could motivate Carmilla in her work. Wonderful. "I've had to forward 20 emails to you. And this Will Luce guy is telling me you're flat-out ignoring him."

"Go away," Carmilla retorted groggily. She refused to think about this now.

"It's not fair, vamp. You know it. I've got three other artists I represent who rely on me, too," LaFontaine argued. "And I need my computer for test data. Instead I've been having a long conversation with Will. He's not bad, though."

The vampire couldn't imagine caring about LaFontaine's data any less; it was simply impossible. "He's not important."

"He seems to think so." Carmilla could see them fold their arms as she lifted her head up to see them. "He said he needed to see you about "excruciatingly important vampire matters that surpass your understanding". I don't know what customs you have, but I think Will's telling you to stick to them. It sounded pretty urgent, anyway."

Carmilla stilled; sat up properly. If he was telling LaFontaine – whom, Carmilla knew, would not have usually had a reason to know of their nature – then he was being extremely insistent. And Carmilla knew Will well enough to know that he would not give this up.

While LaFontaine waited for an answer, the illustrator weighed up her options. To refuse would mean that Will – or the other members of the clan – would force their way to meet her. That could have catastrophic consequences, especially where Laura (and her friends) were concerned. She'd spent the time since her escape trying to sever her links to her past as much as possible. She didn't want her past crossing over with her present and future.

On the other hand, refusing to see Will might show the clan that she was serious. She wasn't going back on her word; she'd left for good, and she wanted to keep it that way. They might finally get the message that she wanted to be left alone.

No, Carmilla realised miserably. They really won't. They'll just send someone to meet me. Or worse, perhaps.

"I'll talk to him tonight," the vampire told them in a small voice. "Now may I get some peace and quiet for once?"

"Wait, I have a few questions," LaFontaine blurted out.

Carmilla sighed. Evidently, she wasn't going to be getting any sleep today.

***

Styria could be so cold. Luckily, Carmilla didn't feel the temperature – or lack thereof. She could've easily walked through the dark, built-up streets of Silas (that slowly got sparser the further she walked) in a tank top, shorts and boots, but she had appearances to keep up. She needed to look human, so as not to look suspicious.

Because there was absolutely nothing suspicious about meeting a creature of the night on the edge of a city at night, of course.

Carmilla sighed to herself, adjusting the centre of gravity for the umbrella in her hand. The werewolves' boundary laws meant that Will couldn't be in Styria on more than two occasions. As he'd delivered the book personally, this was his second and last time. And if the werewolves knew she was doing this, they were going to have a lot of questions for her. The last time they'd interrogated her, she'd managed to persuade them to let her live in Silas permanently – this time, if she was caught, she might not be so lucky.