Hungry is the Night - Page Two
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For a moment, she was tempted to sit on the rail and go whizzing down the banister, but a glance and the hard wooden floor and wide glass windows below convinced her that it wouldn't be such a good idea. Catlin walked down the stairs, and paused again. There was something indicating that she should go to the right. A scent? It was almost like good earth after heavy rain, and to Catlin, that indicated outside. Following her instinct, she turned to the right, bare feet making no noise on the polished wooden floor as she crossed the room. Above the fireplace, was a portrait, and Catlin glanced at it as she passed. She registered three figures, but caught sight of some greenery and quickly continued on her way. She moved through a sitting room, and found herself in front of a set of glass double doors, which opened onto a patio. Catlin gently unlatched the doors and pushed them open, then stepped out, breathing in the cool, damp night air.
It's been raining, Catlin thought, gently closing the doors behind her. Now - how do I get out?
A brief investigation revealed an 8-foot high solid stone wall, circling the garden. Catlin looked calculatingly at a nearby tree. A moment's thought, and she was halfway up the tree, edging out along a thick branch to the wall. From her vantage point, she could see that the lane on the other side of the wall led to the street, and tossed her shoes down into the lane. She edged a little further along the branch, then allowed herself to slip over the side until her feet touched the wall. She felt the glass cut into her feet as she lowered herself onto the wall, and swore under her breath.
There go my chances for dangling over the other side. Going to have to jump. One, two...
A moment later, Catlin was crouched in the grass on the far side of the wall, glad that she'd missed landing on her heeled sandals, and the branch that she hadn't noticed until she'd landed beside it. Catlin glanced up at the tree branch and smiled. She couldn't get back in if she wanted to. A metallic scent permeated the air, and she collected her shoes and limped towards the street. Once on the street, she put her shoes on, refusing to look at how badly she had cut her feet, then looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was in the rich area of town, she realised, up on the hill. The houses - if one could call them that, they really were more like mansions - were obscuring the view, but she had a vague recollection that heading down to the left would end her up on a main road, and she'd be able to navigate her way home from there. Catlin crossed the road and began walking. She glanced back, but all she could see was solid grey stone walls, a wrought iron gate, green trees through gentle mist, and the occasional glimpse of windows in stone walls. She shrugged.
It's not like I'll ever want to go back there, she thought, turning back down the road.
With a sigh for her aching feet, she began the long walk home.
Catlin hesitated a moment as the front door of her apartment swung open at her touch.
Did I not lock it? she wondered, then stared in horror at the mess that had been her living room.
From the doorway, she could see the living room and through to the kitchen. The couch cushions had been slit open, and the stuffing littered the floor. The TV cabinet had been tipped over, as had her storage cabinet, and both the TV and the vases, crystal glasses and dinner set were broken because of it. Also broken was an antique mirror Catlin had saved for 10 months to buy. There was no reason for that to have been smashed, aside from malicious damage. The cabinets in the kitchen were all open, and Catlin could see the contents of the cupboards had been scattered all over the kitchen floor, and tracked through the rest of the house.
After a long minute, Catlin stepped through the front door into the living room, and shut the door behind her. Reluctantly, she took the seven steps necessary to reach her bedroom door, then peered in at the destruction in there. Her wardrobe was empty, with her clothing dumped on the floor. Her desk drawers had been pulled from the frame and the contents dumped onto the floor, and her bed had been overturned. In a daze, Catlin pulled her quilt from the wreckage, examined it, then wrapped it around her. The quilt, thankfully, hadn't been badly damaged. The side seam had been split, but that would be easily repaired. It had been a 25th birthday present from Mary-Kate and Alan the year before, and it had taken Mary-Kate five years to make. She had started stitching by hand shortly after Catlin's 20th birthday, intending it to be for her 21st - but it had taken far longer than she had expected. It made for a richer tapestry, Mary-Kate had joked, pointing out the triangles of fabric that were a match for Mary-Kate's own wedding dress, and the triangles from the bridesmaid dress that Catlin had loathed with every corner of her heart, but had worn anyway. And there were scraps of formal dress fabric, and outfits bought on holidays then consigned to the back of the wardrobe when they got home and wondered why on earth they'd bought them. And carefully worked into every hand-made stitch were loving thoughts and protection charms. Perhaps that was how the quilt had managed to escape - Mary-Kate's abilities as a witch worked in subtle and mysterious ways. Catlin righted the telephone, and barely five seconds later, it rang shrilly in the silence.
"Hello?"
"Cat?"
"MK," Catlin managed, then burst into tears.
"Shit, Cat, what is it?"
"Michael... My house..." she managed, then cried some more.
"I'll be there in 20 minutes, pet, stay put."
Mary-Kate hung up the phone, and Catlin sat on her bedroom floor, wrapped in her quilt, cradling the telephone. Ten minutes later, she pulled herself to her feet and moved to survey the rest of the apartment. The bathroom wasn't as bad as the bedroom, simply because there were less things in it. The bathroom cabinets were broken, and her makeup and towels were laying on the floor in a puddle of bleach, from the broken bottle she used to clean the toilet.
It will all need to be replaced. Still, I suppose new makeup shopping might be fun. It's all money though, and I don't have enough to fix my mirror, she thought, temporary positivity swamped by reality.
Catlin moved through the lounge into the kitchen, and was gratified to find her kitchen table in one piece. The fridge had been left open, though, and the food was scattered and spoiled. There was a quick knock on the door, and Catlin moved to answer it.
It was scarcely 15 minutes since the phone call, but Mary-Kate was at the door. They looked at each other for a long moment, Catlin taking in that Mary-Kate didn't have her daughter with her, and hadn't brushed her hair, and Mary-Kate taking in the quilt and the tear stained cheeks.
"Alan's coming up with Troy. We dropped Juniper at Troy and Sarah's on the way."
Catlin just nodded.
"Can I come in?"
A moment later, Catlin registered that she was blocking the doorway, and stepped back, revealing the lounge in all of its devastation.
"Shit, Cat."
Mary-Kate looked down at the quilt, then up at Catlin's face, and without another word, wrapped her arms around Catlin's shoulders, and pulled her head to her shoulder. Catlin burst into tears, again.
"Shhhh," Mary-Kate soothed, stroking her hair, humming the quite tuneless melody she used to soothe her daughter into sleep. Alan and Troy appeared in the doorway and Mary-Kate loosened her hold.
"Alright, pet?"
Catlin sniffed, and tried for a smile.
"I'll live."
"How bad is it?"
"Pretty bad."
"Show us?"
Catlin pushed her bedroom door open again, and allowed Mary-Kate to see the damage, then led them through to the kitchen, pausing to let them glance into the bathroom, and ending up on the raised platform alcove where her dining table was.
"Thorough," commented Mary-Kate, and Catlin nodded.
"Thugs," Troy spat, furious, but to this, Catlin shook her head.
"Michael," she corrected, unhappily.
"Your ex?"
She nodded.
"We had a fight."
"And he did this?"
"He was looking for his drugs."
"Ahh."
"Cat, are you bleeding?" Mary-Kate suddenly asked, looking at the blooded footprints on the light wooden floor.
"My feet. I forgot..."
"Shit, Cat. Sit on the table. Alan, will you please get the first aid kit out of the car?"
Alan nodded and left the room, and Troy looked around for something to do.
"Troy, you could go and clean up the broken glass in the lounge," Mary-Kate instructed. "The bin is under the sink."
Troy left the room with the rubbish bin, and Mary-Kate pulled off Catlin's sandals to look at her feet.
"Where have you been anyway? I've been trying to contact you all week."
"MK, I've had the strangest week you'd ever think possible."
Alan reappeared with the first aid kit, then disappeared into the living room to help Troy clean up.
"Why'd you bring Troy?"
"Well, all you said was Michael, and your house. I didn't know if he was here, so I brought Alan in case he needed to be thrown out. So we needed to leave Jumpier with Sarah, and when we said why, Troy came along for back up."
Catlin gasped in pain as Mary-Kate swiped her feet with antiseptic.
"You've got some deep cuts here."
"They burn like hellfire."
"So where have you been?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Cat, you know me better than that."
So Catlin told her, as Mary-Kate bandaged her feet, about Gabriel, his strange tale, and Michael. By the time she'd finished, Mary-Kate was sitting beside her on the table.
"So he claims he saved your life by turning you into a vampire."
"Yeah."
"You believe him?"
"Of course not."
"You have a reflection?"
"Yeah. Apparently that's a myth."
Mary-Kate snorted.
"Right."
"What do you think?"
"I think you should report him. You know people often have memory loss with La Rocha. Sure, he says he didn't touch you, but how can you be sure?"
"You know... I think I actually believe him about that. Perhaps someone else slipped it to me, and he just took me home and let it wear off."
"Is he hot?"
"What?"
"Is he hot?"
"He's... Yeah, I guess so."
"You sure you're not just hoping he's a good guy?"
"You know me better than that."
"True. You always fall for the oh-so-WRONG-for-you bad boys, but you always know that they're bad."
In the living room, Mary-Kate's phone was ringing insistently.
"Is someone going to answer that?" she called.
The music stopped, and Mary-Kate rolled her eyes.
"Can you stand, pet? Want to see what they're doing to your lounge?"
"Yeah, alright."
Catlin gingerly tested her feet, and found that they hurt, but the pain was manageable. She limped into the front of her apartment, and glanced at the couch. The boys had attempted to put the stuffing back in, but it was lumpy, misshapen, and spilling out through the long slashes. She looked again at the bin full of shards of glass, crystal and pottery, again at the couch, and softly started to laugh, tears threatening. Troy handed Mary-Kate's phone back to Alan - it had obviously been his wife, checking up on them.
"Hey, c'mon, Cat, we didn't do that bad a job," he joked, squeezing her shoulders and trying to make her smile. "You just need to rechristen your couch Quasimodo, and we'll be right."
Catlin rewarded him with half a smile, then sighed.
"I don't even know where to begin."
"Mon chaton," said a dark voice from the doorway, and Mary-Kate and Catlin both looked up, with the boys moving in front of them both a second later, looking threatening.
"Mon chaton, may I come in?"
"Gabriel," Catlin sighed. "Now my night is complete. Sure, come in and ruin my evening further."
Gabriel stepped over the threshold, breathed in, and pulled a face.
"I take it that your Michael and the little angel were here?"
"What made you guess that?" Catlin asked sarcastically, glancing again at the wreckage.
Mary-Kate was giving Catlin a wide-eyed, open-mouthed look, and raised an eyebrow as she mouthed behind her husband's back, "You guess so?!"
Catlin gave her half a smile, and shrugged.
"I will stay and help you clean, if you wish mon chaton. Allow your friends to go home. It is after midnight."
"You can't stay here tonight, Cat," Alan said. "He might come back. You can stay with us."
"That is unnecessary," Gabriel said, smoothly. "Either I will stay to protect her, or we will return to my home again tonight."
Alan raised an eyebrow at Gabriel's proprietary tone, but shrugged and handed Mary-Kate her handbag.
"Ready to go, MK?"
Mary-Kate took her bag, and looked at Catlin.
"Yes, or no, pet?"
Catlin shrugged.
"Can my night get worse? Yes, go and collect Juniper and get some sleep before work tomorrow."
"Alright, but you will call me tomorrow, or Friday morning I'm calling the cops, first thing, with what we talked about."
Mary-Kate gave Catlin a hard look and then glanced at Gabriel. She leaned over and gave Catlin a hard hug.
"If you do him, I want details," she whispered. "He's lush."
"Unlikely, but promise," Catlin smiled, hugging her back. "First aid kit?"
"Keep it, you might need it," Mary-Kate said with a wink.
Catlin rolled her eyes at her, and Alan moved in for a hug.
"If I see Michael, I'll beat the shit out of him for you."
"Not necessary. Besides, he knows you."
"I'll wear dress ups."
Troy moved in and hugged her as well.
"He tries any funny business, just let us know."
"Thanks, Troy."
"No problem, kitten. Sorry we didn't get to evict anyone for you. Wish we'd arrived in time to throw him down the stairs for you."
"Maybe next time."
"Don't even joke about it."
"Right, then," said Alan. "I guess we'll leave you to it."
"Thanks for coming over."
"Whenever you need us," Alan promised, pulling out his car keys.
"See you later. Bye, MK."
"Bye."
"Speak to you tomorrow, pet."
Mary-Kate, Alan and Troy moved past Gabriel out the door, and Catlin stood in the doorway, watching them file down the stairs. Then she closed the door and moved to her bedroom window to watch them leave the building and get into Mary-Kate and Alan's car. As always, Mary-Kate glanced up and lifted a hand. Catlin pressed a hand to the glass in response and watched as the car doors were closed, and the car moved slowly down the street. Once it vanished behind a building, she turned to look at Gabriel.
"What are you doing here?"
"I followed you."
"That's more than a little stalker-like."
"I was concerned. You left a very clear trail of blood from the house," this he said like it should have been in capital letters, "to here. I was worried that you were attempting to bleed to death."
"Can I do that, now that I'm a vampire?" Catlin asked, sarcastically.
"Non, mon chaton. You can not. You would simply fall upon someone or something and feed until you recovered. I was concerned that it would be someone you cared about."
"Clearly your worries were unfounded. I didn't fall upon anyone."
"You were not deliberately trying to bleed to death. Your cuts would have worked to protect you."
Catlin rolled her eyes again, and looked at the wreckage that had been her bedroom.
"Shopping tomorrow," she commented, with a sigh.
Gabriel looked at her for a long moment, then sighed too.
"Of course. Allow me to assist you with your cleaning up, then we can return to the house. We have 4 and a half hours of night left."
Catlin considered arguing the point, but let it slide, and started picking up her clothing. It smelled like Michael. She was going to have to wash it. All of it. She sighed, and started stuffing the clothes into the bag she used to take things down the stairs to the laundry on the first floor. She heard a noise, and glanced up to see Gabriel had left the doorway. A few moments later, she heard him in the kitchen, and relaxed a little. It was unnerving having him watching her. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive - he was. Oh god he was. But he seemed a little... odd. Like trailing her here, and claiming it was by her blooded footprints. It was just... odd. Catlin sighed and returned her attention to her bedroom.
Several hours later, Gabriel appeared in the bathroom doorway as Catlin was filling the bath to soak the bleach-stained towels. She had thrown out every last bit of her make-up, writing a list as she went of the things she wanted to replace.
"We need to leave soon, mon chaton. The sun will be rising soon."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Mon chaton, the sun."
"You can go. I'm not stopping you. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to soak these towels for a couple of hours, then I'm going to take them and my clothes down to the laundry and wash them all, then I'm going to see about getting my mirror fixed, and see about getting a new mattress, because that one stinks. And I'm going to go and get a new dinner set, and some food, and a new lock put on my door. Maybe three locks."
"There is not time for all of that before the sun rises, mon chaton."
"Look, Gabriel. You may believe that you have to sleep when the sun rises, but I don't. I'm human, a normal person. I will go shopping today, and sleep tomorrow night."
He hesitated for a long moment.
"Of course, mon chaton. Still, you must be tired. Do you have a spare mattress anywhere in the house?"
"There's an air bed under my wardrobe, if they didn't destroy that too."
Gabriel vanished from the doorway, and a few minutes later, she heard the vacuum start up. Cat turned off the taps, surveying the almost back to normal bathroom - well, aside from the broken cabinet and the towels in the bath - and yawned. She was very tired - maybe a short nap before she went shopping - there was still 4 hours until the shops opened. The lounge looked wonderful, aside from the lumpy couch and broken mirror. The boys had righted the two cabinets, and picked up the larger pieces of her broken vases, dinner set and wine glasses. The TV had been stood by the front door to see if it could be repaired, and Gabriel had just finished vacuuming the floor, which made all the difference. Her footprints were still visible, the floor would need to be mopped to get rid of those, but the sugar and flour that had been tracked through the house was gone, and he'd also unfolded the blow-up mattress behind the couch and put her quilt on top of it. She heard Gabriel's voice in the dining alcove, but there was the soft click of a mobile phone being placed on the table, and he reappeared in the room.
"Mon chaton, will you sit on the air bed so I can see your feet, please?"
Catlin hesitated a moment, then lay back on the bed.
Gods it feels good to lay down, she thought, not caring that her pillow was Gabriel's jumper. I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes, then I'll set the alarm to wake me at 8.00 - or maybe 10.00...
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