Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{010}

Rose
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"...In the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody you cared about used to be."
—Damon Salvatore
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Waking up in a rundown building with dust clinging to every exposed surface and a pounding headache on an uncomfortable couch wasn't an ideal start to the weekend and she voiced as much with a hissed curse, pushing herself up with a groan. The rustling of heavy fabric alerted her to the fact that she still wore her masquerade dress, the young woman huffing out a breath of irritation as she reached up to tug at the pins in her hair, messy and pulling intolerably at strands of her locks.

"Quite the mouth on you," a woman's voice sounded, America letting her eyes drift to the woman standing in the doorway. The vampire that greeted her was a brunette, her short-cut brown hair brushing the nape of her neck, and appeared to be in her late 20s. The onyx-haired girl didn't recognize her and didn't care to, looking away to survey the room—she noted that Elena was beside her, no more awake than America felt—and scowl. "Do either of us look like cargo to you?" 

The unnamed woman blinked, evidently taken aback, as her lips twisted into a confused frown. "Excuse me?" America leaned down to take off the heel that still remained on her foot, caring little as Elena shot her a warning glare. "Cargo. Baggage. A discarded suitcase or duffel bag." The young woman deadpanned, nonchalance radiating almost deceivingly from her person. Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, the brunette shook her head, appearing apprehensive of whatever answer America would give. "No?"

The responding smile was sharp, mean and unamused. "Then why the fuck do you think it's okay to snatch us up like we are? We're not goddamn property—we're nothing anything to be taken from anybody so you've got a minute to tell us what the hell this for or we're just gonna—" America stood, swallowing heavily as her vision spun a little precariously, "—go." She didn't waste any time, seizing her sister's hand and walking to where the woman stood at the door, mouth gaping before she straightened up, her expression hardening. 

"You know, for a human, you're certainly bold," America didn't shy away from the piercing glare, "you're lucky I haven't ripped your tongue out." The eldest sister snorted a laugh, running a hand through her hair to brush curled strands from her eyes. "You call it luck, I call it 'can't harm the merchandise'." The vampire's eyebrows raised high and the annoying sound of pacing footsteps in the background finally halted as the twitchy man in the corner finally stopped. America levelled the other woman with an unimpressed glare.

"I don't know who you are, who you think I am but you're not the first people that have kidnapped me." The anxious vampire behind them had a frown in his voice as he asked, "Did they hurt you? We, uh, we tried not to really hurt you but—" he cut himself off, posture ramrod straight when America turned to face him, her face betraying no emotion. "They tortured me and I killed them," she said, feigning cheer despite the dull expression of her eyes. "What?" she craned her neck back to look at the woman, registering her horrified expression, "torture not your thing?"

America shouldn't have revelled in the disgusted expression she received but she did out of sheer spite that she held no empathy for the people that had kidnapped her and her sister, probably giving her a brain bleed in the process. "We. . . no. That's. . . that's—" she cut herself off abruptly, seemingly unable to find the words. America's expression was mean as she feigned sympathy. "Huh, wouldn't have guessed since you're kind of handing us over to our death." The twitchy vampire made a pained noise, taking a halting step in their direction that stopped the moment she turned to look at him.