Will & Tessa \ Wessa

A Vampire, A Warlock & A Shadowhunter

Downworlder. 

But my name is Nastya.  Once I had turned I heard the name downworlder used to describe me often. 

But I'm a vampire: an ancient and superior being.  Downworlder?

I roamed the streets of Paris alone, unattached to any clan or coven.  Still, somehow I felt I was being watched; bound by unwritten ancient rules.

By day I hid, by night I fed on the vagabond straggler, drawn to me by my ethereal beauty until they saw my fangs, unable to flee because of my strength.  I was disgusted by them, all of them and yet... I needed to survive.

Paris smelled clean tonight, the air changing with the cold season.  I lurked by the Opera house waiting for someone, anyone, to cross my path.

I saw a young couple break away from the crowd exiting the building and I followed them.  I chose them tonight.  They were neither vagabonds nor stragglers but I made exceptions now and again and I wanted them.

They were young, holding hands, leaning into each other while they walked.  They whispered secrets to one another, the woman laughing softly in the quietness.  A couple very much in love, oblivious to the world, yet soon I would destroy them and end that love in an instant all because I needed to satisfy an unspeakable hunger.

The young man was tall and lean, he wore no gentleman's hat and his black hair was wild and unruly. He had eyes bluer than any blue sky I'd ever seen.  And he was so incredibly beautiful, but so was the young woman who held onto him, leaning into him.  Her grey eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him.  She was sublime, her dark hair free, falling to the middle of her back, catching in the gentle breeze. 

They were different, unusual, unafraid and I wished I had the heart to change my mind; a beating heart to change my mind.   In the midst of the grime of Paris they stood out like perfect burning stars and a desperate hunger took over me.

As I followed them I noticed they had stopped speaking.  The man's demeanor had changed, and although he raised the woman's hand to his lips in a gentle kiss he appeared tense, drawing her subtly to walk a step ahead of him.  Placing himself between me and her.

I realized he knew I was following them though he never turned back to look at me.  What did he think I was?  A thief?  A beggar woman?  No.  None of those things warranted the extreme change in him now.  It almost seemed like he were waiting for me to attack, maybe even hoping that I would, and I faltered. 

Shadowhunter! 

The irony! 

I stopped walking, still hidden in the shadows.  If I were an older stronger vampire I may have challenged him, taken what I had set out for.  But I didn't know what a taste of that Angel blood would do to me.  Destroy me, perhaps. 

He had stopped walking and was staring in my direction so I stepped boldly into the light.  There was a quiet strength rolling off him, a tension that was palpable and I knew I would never have gotten close enough to taste his or her blood.  He would have killed me with his bare hands if not to protect himself then to protect the woman he was with. 

They both stared at me, but without any malice or challenge. 

Yes, they were different, unusual, unafraid.  They held hands still, and the woman kept her other hand on her stomach protectively. 

After a moment when she realized I was no longer a threat she pulled the man away, "Will, my love." She said, her voice as soft as her laugh from before. 

It was a wonder to see his body and his face respond to the sound of her voice, as if she had caressed him instead of calling him: Will, my love.

Love.

She actually smiled and put an arm around his waist and he put an arm around her shoulder drawing her close as they walked away, still casual, a young couple in love disappearing into the Paris night. 

Beautiful burning stars in the night.