Nicholas' Bargain Ch. 06

"Indeed," Mika agreed, thoroughly unperturbed. "Depending on how difficult they prove or how immoral they are. Personally, I abhor getting blood on my hands. Particular humans require the humbling of involuntary death, however- if you believe I'm evilness personified then you'd be aghast to know of the evil's your kind inflict or hold deep within them."

Yes, people were capable of horrors, Lara agreed, thinking of the stories of murder or molestation the newspapers would report on daily. In comparison, Nicholas and Mika seemed like princes.

"It's not as tragic as you think, death and dying. I am sure Nicholas will tire of your world soon enough and to leave this world and enter ours, it's the way it must be -- for both my kind and yours. I'm sure he'll give you the death elixir, makes for a quick and painless death, then you'll simply reunite in our world. It's the only way, you see. That's part of the reason I prefer staying in your world for as long as I can. I loathe this backward and forward malarkey --dying and regenerating gets old very fast," he sighed wearily, licking his fingers. "Don't worry, your beau will explain soon enough."

"Later rather than sooner, I hope," Lara said darkly, rising with him and accompanying him to the door. "Perhaps Nicholas is back by now?" she mused then, missing him.

"Mind if I hitch a ride back?" Mika asked.

"You're staying with Nicholas?"

"No," Mika said glumly. "I'm letting rooms in Shoreditch but I'll make use of his residence until he shows up and sends me packing."

Lara shrugged, declining a worried Lucinda's insistence that she take a chaperone along on her 'outing'.

"Mr..." she glanced at Mika enquiringly.

"Michelson," he supplied helpfully and Lara gave him a surprised look before turning back to the maid, saying,

"Mr Michelson is Lord Armel's cousin, Lucinda. It's perfectly alright. You can go and tell my aunt, if it you like."

"Mika Michelson?" Lara asked dubiously once he'd helped her into a carriage.

"Has a certain ring to it, wouldn't you say? Truth be told, I've grown a little bored of my name of late, but I can't exactly go and change it now that I'm known to the ton. Think I'll try Philip next. Very regal sounding."

Lara laughed, feeling a great sense of ease settling over her at his frivolity, such a contrast to Nicholas' usual stoniness. "Well why on earth did you decide on Mika of all names? I can't say I've heard anyone called such before."

"I once had a lover -- Finnish, I believe. Anyway, I think I was calling myself Michael at the time and apparently, the diminution of it in Finland is what I am today. She called my name with such passion, such violence, when we came together, that I decided to adopt it for myself. Ah, Adele. Now she was a lovely little thing," he said wistfully staring out of the window with a dreamy smile playing over his lips.

"I'm sorry I asked," Lara sighed, before frowning at the passing scenery. "Why, he's passed Nicholas' street," she said, annoyed, tapping on the roof to gain the drivers attention.

"I wouldn't bother, were I you -- he'll never hear you."

"But he's confused-"

"No, my dear. No, I'm afraid he's not."

Though calm voiced, something in Mika's suddenly sober expression perturbed Lara more so than his bewildering words but before she could question him, he spoke once more, the cadence of his voice oddly lyrical and compelling.

"Dormite."

Her eyelids were suddenly weighted, her tongue slow and clumsy, her limbs uncooperative. Lara stared at Mika, stunned.

"I am sorry," she heard distantly as drowsiness fogged her mind. The last thing she saw before unconsciousness claimed her was Mika's pinched, and distorted -- and almost troubled -- face.

*