Soul of Evil

Nick actually grinned a bit, even as he turned and pulled his own chair closer before settling in it once more, "Making sure I don't wake up with a case of wood through my chest or a deadly sunburn."

Scythe laughed again, "Indeed, I can understand that, it seems a good place to hide from would be assassins. Oh how I detest those people. They act grim, like death follows their every footstep, but in truth they know not the sweet call of him."

Nick gave a contemptuous snort. "Actually their more like a rash, irritating and annoying." He gave a lazy shrug as if to dismiss that part of the conversation. "Far easier to find someplace that keeps me both amused and alive, so to speak. And actually I've only run into a few in remote places, amateurs, all of them." He found himself starting to grin again. Whatever else this woman was, she certainly was enjoyable to talk with.

She threw back her head and laughed, a deep rich full laugh. "Oh my! That certainly is a good one. I have encountered numerous that seem to think that pale skin and a generally dark nature you're automatically a vampire. Alas for their poor souls if you will, but their screams were delightful. I mean running around trying to put a stake in my chest. Those things chafe horribly and can ruin a perfectly good outfit."

Something shivered in harmony at her real laugh, something deep inside him, even as he too laughed a rich almost dark laugh. "Truly it must be an amusing sight." Holding up a finger, he said, "You forgot the hassle, though, of the splinters, which play havoc with removal." His eyes glittered with amusement. "Funny how they never think that a bit of sanding would do much to at least improve the image if not the actual effect." It had been a very long time since he'd had a discussion of this nature. Even during his time with the Count, he'd been kept to a strict standard.

She nodded in agreement, still laughing. "Oh dear gods, yes! You know I once spent an entire week removing those things from my body. Nasty little bastards." She shuddered slightly at the recollection of digging the splinters out, before continuing, "Indeed, a nice coat of varnish would add some style to that crude thing they steal from a carpenter."

Nick laughed, a true, natural laugh that sang with tones both dark and vibrant. It was a laugh that you felt as well as heard. It lit his eyes up to an almost glowing emerald. "Quite, though I've never had the 'fun' of actually attempting the removal of splinters from my own chest, I've dug one or two out of a finger. Do you know what has always mystified me though and that I have yet to get an answer to?" In the back of his mind he wondered at how Scythe seemed to just fit in. She wasn't afraid of him, but she wasn't a threat either, she just fit. Nick never lacked for female company, in fact he often had more then he wanted at times, however it had been a very long time since any woman had been able to hold her own in personality much less match wits with him.

Scythe raised an eyebrow in curiosity and flashed him a full smile. How could she not in the wake of that laugh? "No, what ever could it be?"

"Who in the blue hell came up with the asinine concept of the stake through the heart thing to begin with. I mean in relation specifically to vampires. I've asked every single reliable source I know, and even they don't know. But think a moment, a wooden stake through Anybody's chest is going to kill them." Nick's tone shifted between amusement, sarcasm and exasperation. This had been a pet peeve of his for decades, though he rarely voiced it.

Scythe chuckled softly with a shake of her head, "Indeed it would. Perhaps it has something to do with, hmmmmm- You know, I never really thought about that one, I could look it up somewhere I'm sure. Perhaps that Van Helsing guy's writings might tell."

Nick gave a soft snort along with a derisive laugh, "That twerp?" Giving another dismissive laugh, "Doubtful. I wonder if perhaps it was some ancient belief or something." He cocked his head thoughtfully, unthinkingly nibbling on his lower lip with his perfect teeth. He'd never really pondered it, but somehow this Scythe creature had awoken his feline curiosity.

Scythe pursed her lips in thought "Probably some old wives tale or something, that seems to be how most things get started." She was so intent on trying to think of where this had started that she was unaware of her eyes lingering on Nick's face.

The sight of Scythe's pursed lips sent an odd jolt through Nick and he found himself wondering what they might taste like. He shook his head and blinked, then a slow smile formed, as her words cut through his own personal thoughts, "Then maybe those old wives should endeavor to experience their tale, hmm?" He found himself chuckling at the thought. "Honestly though, I think that the true answer to that one question shall be my hobby for the next hundred years or so."

Scythe laughed. "Indeed a good hobby. It might be one of those questions that never gets answered...I hope not though, I do so hate those things." She took a drink from her glass and shook her head "So tell me, what does one do for amusements in these parts? Aside from balls and parties, that is." If she was going to be here for a week she might as well get an understanding of the region. At least that was what she told herself.

Nick settled back in his chair, regarding Scythe thoughtfully. "Well I suppose that all depends on who you are. For most around here there is business to attend to and of course the never-ending game of politics which is always invigorating. Some have their private amusements, most of which to me are fairly tame, but it keeps them amused I suppose. If you mean me specifically, that's a different sort of game altogether." His tone held a trace of his darker nature. He wasn't about to go into his personal forms of amusements with her. The last time he'd done that with a woman who seemed to match his tastes he'd ended up with a figurative stake through his heart.

Scythe raised her eyebrow, "Hmmm, well, say from what you know of me thus far what is there to amuse me in these parts? Of course you're more than welcome to share yours." She offered him a dark gleaming smile.

"You my dear, from what I've gathered, shall be bored to tears." He replied, a slight smirk on his lips. "As for sharing, perhaps there might be something I could find that could amuse someone of your tastes." His eyes glittered as he took a sip of brandy.

A slow smile crossed her lips, a smile that reached her eyes, making them glow for a moment like a fresh trickle of blood. "It sounds perfectly intriguing."

"It could indeed be, yes." He studied her eyes for a moment before flicking a glance at her book. The way her eyes light up... He let the thought trail off, unwilling to finish it. His own eyes glinted with both speculation and approval.

Her eyes followed his for a moment. "But perhaps another night, I must see to lodging for my time here. If you could perhaps give me the name of a good inn..." She let the rest of the sentence hang there. What was she hoping for anyway? Her business was as completed as it could be for the moment, so why the urge to linger?

A thoughtful look formed as he looked back at her, his eyes sweeping up and down, assessing every inch of her. "There are several," he spoke with the deliberate slowness of one who is thinking and speaking at the same time. And they tend to harbor hunters and the like. "However seeing as we have this deal in place, wouldn't it make more sense for you to stay here?" He arched a brow at her, his eyes flashing a challenge, "Provided of course you can keep a civil tongue with my servants that is." That way if you manage to forget your manners or annoy me I won't have to drag you back through town to tear you apart.

Scythe licked a tooth in thought. "Hmm, that is a most gracious offer on your behalf. My thanks. And I shall abide by your wishes as this is your house." She kept her voice steady and polite, never showing the excitement that surged through her at his offer and the subtle challenge.

"This is a good thing. Oh, and of course you understand that if I am woken before dusk I'm quite apt to rip your heart out of your chest and shove it up your ass? I do tend to wake up a tad bit grouchy you understand." For her sake, she'd better to be able to take a hint, he thought. The last thing I want is for the rest of her family to descend with stakes and suntan oil. He held no illusions on vengeful families, coming from one himself. Of course his turned more often than not on themselves, however vengeance is still vengeance.

She gave him an innocent smile. "Of course, I would never do that." the tone of her voice however was anything but innocent.

"No, of course you wouldn't. You are a lady after all." Though his tone was bland his eyes glittered with an unspoken warning that despite their conversational tone he was deadly serious in his warning to her about attempting to wake him early.

"Of course." Scythe grinned, then catching the glitter in his eyes, let the grin fade and nodded, "In all seriousness though, I wouldn't." She did her best to ignore the curious heat that seemed to race through her body at the dangerous look in his eyes. This is just business, she told herself firmly, nothing more.

"This is a good thing Scythe." he intoned solemnly, inside though he was smiling that she so readily picked up on danger, "Well then I see no problems."

With the ground rules in place both of them relaxed a bit, and the conversation drifted along in an amicable fashion. Glasses got refilled a few times, and Nick found himself laughing far more then he could recall doing recently. Scythe was amusing and sharp. She could give almost as good as she got. Scythe too found the conversation a delight. In fact she couldn't ever recall sitting and talking with any man that could match her wit for wit and in a few cases out maneuver her. Even her own family weren't as clever or amusing to talk with.

Nick wasn't consciously trying to charm Scythe, or even flirt with her. He did find himself fascinated though, almost drawn to her. At first her taste in wine and her intriguing notes had reminded him of Rave. Rave had been a rare beauty he'd known years before, known and thought he'd loved. He'd even gone as far as to propose to her. When his proposal was thrown back in his face he'd been furious, both with Rave and himself. From that day on he'd held himself aloof from the dangers of emotional entanglements. Oh he'd had a fling or two, but nothing lasting and nothing deep. Besides, the women in this town were silly, vapid things, far better suited to a fling and perhaps a nibble then anything else. Nick was content to be at the top of the food chain.

As for Scythe, she'd never encountered a mind like Nick's. Razor sharp and quick as lightning. His laugh made her tingle all over. She found herself fascinated by his eyes, by the way he moved. His opinions and perceptions were both deliciously dark and brilliantly insightful. She forgot this was about business, her mission drifting to the back of her mind, as she delightedly sought to match wits with Nick.

A lull in the conversation and he rose to his feet, flicking a glance at the windows, knowing without having to see that dawn approached. "It always creeps so silently." He gave a barely audible sigh before looking back at Scythe and offering her a hand, "If you will allow me, I will show you to your room. It would be unfair to wake poor Phillip at this hour." The offer was accompanied by a slight smile. For a fleeting instant he actually regretted what he was, what he'd been turned into. He could have managed to stay up longer perhaps, but daylight irritated him and when irritated he was less than good company.

Scythe nodded with a smile and rose gracefully, her book disappearing as she did, "That sounds like a good idea, lead away." A small lie, for she could have continued on talking with him for hours yet, but she too saw the pale hint of dawn and knew that she would lose his company. Once the conversation slowed though she felt exhaustion setting in, so maybe seeking her bed was a practical idea after all.

He took her hand and led her from the room, up the curving staircase and then around a series of halls, stopping finally at one door, which he gracefully pushed open for her, ushering her in. The room was not overly feminine, nor masculine, but rather a classic blend of both, with a magnificent canopied mahogany bed the centerpiece. "I trust this will suit you? It's out of the way enough so that the early hour sounds won't be too much of a disturbance." He gave a soft chuckle, his eyes dancing, unable to resist a bit of teasing, "I'd offer you a bed of nails, but sadly those are located in other areas and there is not time to get you properly settled in them."

Scythe made an effort to not gape at the magnificence of the room being offered, and gave a dark chuckle at the teasing. "This will suit me just fine, many thanks. Indeed, well I might have to investigate said nails at a later date. But if you'll excuse me, I do feel tired." She covered a yawn with the back of her hand then gave a full body stretch, the gown straining against the full curve of her breasts. She hadn't realized till just that moment how much tension she'd had, and the stretch felt wonderful.

His eyes drank in the grace of Scythe's stretching, pushing aside the flash of hunger that rose. With a dark smile he placed a single gallant kiss on her hand, a kiss that held his trade-mark shadow, death, fire tingle to it; a tingle born of his very nature and energies; before releasing her hand and stepping back with a slight bow, "Rest well m'lady and I shall see you in the eve." He made himself turn to leave, then paused and looked back over his shoulder at her. "Oh and Scythe, don't try and get at those books while I'm sleeping. I would consider that cheating and render our deal null and void." He gave her a devious grin, his eyes glittering in the dim light, before he left, pulling her door shut behind him. It took him little time to reach his own room. Still thinking over the night's events, he undressed and slipped into bed, the silk sheets a poor substitute for the softness of Scythe's hand, an acknowledgment he made to himself before sleep claimed him.

Scythe shivered softly at the tingle before half smiling, half-frowning at the door. "Thought never crossed my mind, damn I'm slipping." She rubbed her hand and turned her attention to the elegant room, and the tempting bed. As she undressed and slid between the covers she found herself wondering what that kiss would feel like anywhere else on her body and how he did it. Those thoughts chased each other around her mind until she drifted off, unaware of the smile on her face.