Post by caladwen on Sept 12, 2008 0:03:36 GMT -5
It took Abby no time at all to find him.
She’d thought (and quite fairly) that she’d have to look, comb the room a few times. Besides, she had no idea what she was looking for.
The moment the bar door swung shut behind her, her eyes were drawn to the far corner of the room. It was surreal how drawn she was to this corner, and her feet were halfway through the sea of people before she realized what she was doing and gained control of herself again.
Switching directions, she picked a path to the bar and an empty stool there.
The bartender gave her the usual leering grin; she wouldn’t be herself if she wasn’t just the slightest bit used to this by now. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. On the other hand, it always got her free drinks. She did a quick estimation and guessed that this 40-something would be no different.
Putting on her prettiest smile, she put her order in, but the man just reached beneath the bar and placed the long-neck in front of her on the counter. His leer was still firmly in place, and god, as much as she got used to these looks they never lost any of their creepiness. She was so not putting on a show. It wasn’t worth it.
Abby didn’t have to ponder this for much longer, because next moment, her eyes were drawn to the corner again. From her place at the bar, she could stare all she wanted to and she was mostly shielded from the gaze of anyone looking out.
There was a woman sitting in the booth, in the side closest to the door. She was giggling, smiling, turning up the charm for the man sitting in the side that nestled against the wall.
When she finally dragged up the willpower to really look at him, it was like a punch to the gut.
He was beautiful, plain and simple. Her mind scrambled for a comparison and came up blank for a few moments, before settling on one of Michelangelo’s sculptures, maybe some of the angels painted onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. His hair was the same golden shade as one of the latter, and looked as though it might be feather-soft if she were to touch it. It was arranged deliberately mussed, casual, as though it always laid that way.
The effortless way he moved, sitting up from where he was leaning on the back of the bench and reaching for his drink, made Abby physically sick. Bile rose in her throat, and she forcefully pushed away the urge to retch. She kept her eyes trained on him; she couldn’t let her nausea or her personal affiliation get in the way of assessing a hunt.
Just the thought of it sent a delightful shiver up her spine.
His face was sculpted, pale. In the dim, neon light it seemed to give off it’s own glow. Every feature was pristine, too perfect and right to be real. His nose - which she noted, vaguely, was the same shape as her own - angled just right down his face, creating the right amount of light and shadow to show off the rest of it. His lips were full, nearly sinful in the way they wrapped around the lip of the bottle he drank from. And his eyes... his eyes gave her pause, made her breath catch despite how detached she was determined to be.
They were blue. Dark blue, and they sparkled like cut sapphires. They gave off their own light, eclipsing even the faint glow that encompassed his skin. She was held bound in their brightness, unable to look away. She feared she might soon forget to breathe properly.
As if he sensed someone was watching, he turned his head, still talking to the woman sitting across from him. Those unnaturally bright eyes turned their full gaze on Abby, and she nearly choked on her tongue.
He finished whatever he was saying and his mouth twisted in a cruel, knowing smile. Abby knew she probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a very big, very mean looking semi-truck, but she couldn’t look away. Her body was hit with a blast of adrenaline, and she’d never felt the need to flee or fight so strongly before.
Is this what she did to every man she looked at? Did her eyes have the same ethereal light trapped behind them, her face the same sculpted quality? God, is this how normal people saw her?
Underneath the bar, resting against the wood there, her knees shook.
But then he turned away, full attention back to the woman, and whatever he said made her blush a light pink. The spell of his eyes broken, Abby jolted and nearly fell off her stool.
She wanted to run, to get out of this bar and as far away as she could manage. Her body wouldn’t respond to her mind’s urging, and she stayed where she sat. From across the room, he leaned in close across the table, and the woman did the same.
And there it was, the catalyst she’d been looking for. As he drew the woman in, let his eyes and his words wash over her and bring her under his spell, the glowing of his skin intensified. Lines drew themselves over his hands where they rested on the tabletop, up his neck and across his face. The same indigo as his glowing eyes, these lines and runes pulsed faintly.
Judging by the lack of reaction in anyone else, Abby guessed that she was the only one that could see this. She wondered if the same sort of light danced across her skin on the rare occasion she played with people’s minds. Was the siren song so powerful coming from her? Did it draw everyone in like his did?
She couldn’t take this any more. She couldn’t sit here and look at this man, couldn’t watch him do the same thing to this woman that she’d done to her mother. Would he kill her, or would Abby have another demonic half-sibling?
This time, when the urge to retch rose up, she couldn’t fight it back. She stood quickly, nearly knocking over the barstool in her attempt to get away. As gracelessly as she ever had, wove her way through the sea of bodies and out into the cold night air.
The breeze whipped at her face, broke the heat that seemed to be rising in waves off her face. Even that, though, did nothing to quell the nausea that made the parking lot spin. She had enough humility to make it behind the nearest dumpster before she lost everything she had eaten recently.
Distantly, over the pounding of blood in her ears and the screaming as the world flipped over and over again, she heard a car door slam shut. A moment later, small, cold hands were pushing her hair back and rubbing her back.
“Are you alright?” Anna’s voice said from somewhere above her head. Abby too a moment to appreciate the tenderness that was out of character for Anna, before trying to nod. The movement came out as more of a jerk of her head, and she moved her hands to rest on the cool, dirty concrete for grounding.
When she could finally speak, her voice was hoarse and raw. “He’s in there,” she said. Struggling to stand, she leaned on Anna’s support and groaned softly. “He’s got a woman in there. It’s–he’s–“ But she couldn’t put it into words. Her friend nodded anyway, and Abby hoped she understood.
“Well, come on then.”
Abby’s nausea was starting to lift now that she was out of seeing- and hearing-range. She didn’t need as much support from Anna as she probably took, but after a night like this one she appreciated her weight being supported as she was all but dragged back to the car.
Anna wrestled her into the passenger seat and helped her get belted in (to which Abby made a small noise of protest and Anna said that if she was going to get pulled over, it wasn’t going to be for something as stupid as a seatbelt law), before slamming the door shut and walking around to the driver’s side.
As soon as the key was in the ignition and the engine was roaring to life, she hit a small button on the dash and Abby heard the familiar chinking noises as the gears rolled into place and the cloth cover rolled back. The night air was welcome on her fever-hot skin, and Abby laid her head on the place where her window should have been had her window been up.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, she glanced back in one of the mirrors and saw the silhouette of a familiar black car pulling out behind them. Though the noise hurt her throat, she groaned.
“Did you have to bring the whole advance guard?”
Anna snorted and glanced back in the rearview. “It wasn’t my idea, trust me.”
~*~*~*~
“So, what? We’re just supposed to sit here and let it kill an innocent civilian?”
Anna sighed, frustrated, raising her head from where it rested on her hands. “You know what, Dean?” She drew the bible out of her bag at her feet and tossed it at him. “If you’re that pissed about it, you go find the bastard and kill him. I’m going to wait until we have a chance to put the actual plan into motion and not run off, half-cocked, like an amateur. Tell me how that works out, will you?”
“Anna,” Abby said, drawing back the curtain to look out the window once more.
Anna opened her mouth to retort, but the set of Abby’s shoulders as she let the curtain fall brought her up short. The bible made a sharp sound as it hit the table, and she was slightly pleased to see Dean looking murderous.
She’d thought (and quite fairly) that she’d have to look, comb the room a few times. Besides, she had no idea what she was looking for.
The moment the bar door swung shut behind her, her eyes were drawn to the far corner of the room. It was surreal how drawn she was to this corner, and her feet were halfway through the sea of people before she realized what she was doing and gained control of herself again.
Switching directions, she picked a path to the bar and an empty stool there.
The bartender gave her the usual leering grin; she wouldn’t be herself if she wasn’t just the slightest bit used to this by now. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. On the other hand, it always got her free drinks. She did a quick estimation and guessed that this 40-something would be no different.
Putting on her prettiest smile, she put her order in, but the man just reached beneath the bar and placed the long-neck in front of her on the counter. His leer was still firmly in place, and god, as much as she got used to these looks they never lost any of their creepiness. She was so not putting on a show. It wasn’t worth it.
Abby didn’t have to ponder this for much longer, because next moment, her eyes were drawn to the corner again. From her place at the bar, she could stare all she wanted to and she was mostly shielded from the gaze of anyone looking out.
There was a woman sitting in the booth, in the side closest to the door. She was giggling, smiling, turning up the charm for the man sitting in the side that nestled against the wall.
When she finally dragged up the willpower to really look at him, it was like a punch to the gut.
He was beautiful, plain and simple. Her mind scrambled for a comparison and came up blank for a few moments, before settling on one of Michelangelo’s sculptures, maybe some of the angels painted onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. His hair was the same golden shade as one of the latter, and looked as though it might be feather-soft if she were to touch it. It was arranged deliberately mussed, casual, as though it always laid that way.
The effortless way he moved, sitting up from where he was leaning on the back of the bench and reaching for his drink, made Abby physically sick. Bile rose in her throat, and she forcefully pushed away the urge to retch. She kept her eyes trained on him; she couldn’t let her nausea or her personal affiliation get in the way of assessing a hunt.
Just the thought of it sent a delightful shiver up her spine.
His face was sculpted, pale. In the dim, neon light it seemed to give off it’s own glow. Every feature was pristine, too perfect and right to be real. His nose - which she noted, vaguely, was the same shape as her own - angled just right down his face, creating the right amount of light and shadow to show off the rest of it. His lips were full, nearly sinful in the way they wrapped around the lip of the bottle he drank from. And his eyes... his eyes gave her pause, made her breath catch despite how detached she was determined to be.
They were blue. Dark blue, and they sparkled like cut sapphires. They gave off their own light, eclipsing even the faint glow that encompassed his skin. She was held bound in their brightness, unable to look away. She feared she might soon forget to breathe properly.
As if he sensed someone was watching, he turned his head, still talking to the woman sitting across from him. Those unnaturally bright eyes turned their full gaze on Abby, and she nearly choked on her tongue.
He finished whatever he was saying and his mouth twisted in a cruel, knowing smile. Abby knew she probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a very big, very mean looking semi-truck, but she couldn’t look away. Her body was hit with a blast of adrenaline, and she’d never felt the need to flee or fight so strongly before.
Is this what she did to every man she looked at? Did her eyes have the same ethereal light trapped behind them, her face the same sculpted quality? God, is this how normal people saw her?
Underneath the bar, resting against the wood there, her knees shook.
But then he turned away, full attention back to the woman, and whatever he said made her blush a light pink. The spell of his eyes broken, Abby jolted and nearly fell off her stool.
She wanted to run, to get out of this bar and as far away as she could manage. Her body wouldn’t respond to her mind’s urging, and she stayed where she sat. From across the room, he leaned in close across the table, and the woman did the same.
And there it was, the catalyst she’d been looking for. As he drew the woman in, let his eyes and his words wash over her and bring her under his spell, the glowing of his skin intensified. Lines drew themselves over his hands where they rested on the tabletop, up his neck and across his face. The same indigo as his glowing eyes, these lines and runes pulsed faintly.
Judging by the lack of reaction in anyone else, Abby guessed that she was the only one that could see this. She wondered if the same sort of light danced across her skin on the rare occasion she played with people’s minds. Was the siren song so powerful coming from her? Did it draw everyone in like his did?
She couldn’t take this any more. She couldn’t sit here and look at this man, couldn’t watch him do the same thing to this woman that she’d done to her mother. Would he kill her, or would Abby have another demonic half-sibling?
This time, when the urge to retch rose up, she couldn’t fight it back. She stood quickly, nearly knocking over the barstool in her attempt to get away. As gracelessly as she ever had, wove her way through the sea of bodies and out into the cold night air.
The breeze whipped at her face, broke the heat that seemed to be rising in waves off her face. Even that, though, did nothing to quell the nausea that made the parking lot spin. She had enough humility to make it behind the nearest dumpster before she lost everything she had eaten recently.
Distantly, over the pounding of blood in her ears and the screaming as the world flipped over and over again, she heard a car door slam shut. A moment later, small, cold hands were pushing her hair back and rubbing her back.
“Are you alright?” Anna’s voice said from somewhere above her head. Abby too a moment to appreciate the tenderness that was out of character for Anna, before trying to nod. The movement came out as more of a jerk of her head, and she moved her hands to rest on the cool, dirty concrete for grounding.
When she could finally speak, her voice was hoarse and raw. “He’s in there,” she said. Struggling to stand, she leaned on Anna’s support and groaned softly. “He’s got a woman in there. It’s–he’s–“ But she couldn’t put it into words. Her friend nodded anyway, and Abby hoped she understood.
“Well, come on then.”
Abby’s nausea was starting to lift now that she was out of seeing- and hearing-range. She didn’t need as much support from Anna as she probably took, but after a night like this one she appreciated her weight being supported as she was all but dragged back to the car.
Anna wrestled her into the passenger seat and helped her get belted in (to which Abby made a small noise of protest and Anna said that if she was going to get pulled over, it wasn’t going to be for something as stupid as a seatbelt law), before slamming the door shut and walking around to the driver’s side.
As soon as the key was in the ignition and the engine was roaring to life, she hit a small button on the dash and Abby heard the familiar chinking noises as the gears rolled into place and the cloth cover rolled back. The night air was welcome on her fever-hot skin, and Abby laid her head on the place where her window should have been had her window been up.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, she glanced back in one of the mirrors and saw the silhouette of a familiar black car pulling out behind them. Though the noise hurt her throat, she groaned.
“Did you have to bring the whole advance guard?”
Anna snorted and glanced back in the rearview. “It wasn’t my idea, trust me.”
~*~*~*~
“So, what? We’re just supposed to sit here and let it kill an innocent civilian?”
Anna sighed, frustrated, raising her head from where it rested on her hands. “You know what, Dean?” She drew the bible out of her bag at her feet and tossed it at him. “If you’re that pissed about it, you go find the bastard and kill him. I’m going to wait until we have a chance to put the actual plan into motion and not run off, half-cocked, like an amateur. Tell me how that works out, will you?”
“Anna,” Abby said, drawing back the curtain to look out the window once more.
Anna opened her mouth to retort, but the set of Abby’s shoulders as she let the curtain fall brought her up short. The bible made a sharp sound as it hit the table, and she was slightly pleased to see Dean looking murderous.
