Part VI: A Brief Interlude
Besand held his head in his hands. "It's my fault. The Master warned me."
He felt Raegis' hand on his shoulder. "Have dignity, friend," Raegis said. "She was only a mortal."
"She killed Marcus."
"Who, Suzy?" Raegis asked. "What are you talking about?"
"No, not Suzy," Besand spoke softly. "Dalia."
"The Hunter killed Marcus, Besand."
"No...well yes. But Dalia killed him, and Sophia too."
Raegis laughed uncomfortably. "What are you talking about?"
"It was around the time I met Suzy..."
Part VII: Suzy
After Marcus' punishment, Besand noticed Dalia became withdrawn. Although she continued to serve Besand faithfully, she tended to keep to herself. She was still affectionate, but she never pursued Besand any more. Of late she seemed to spend more time alone. Besand forgave the frequent absences. He thought the punishment was a bit harsh, even for so grave a sin.
Anyway, it had been a while since he had really found himself a worthy plaything. He resolved to not think about Dalia for one evening, possibly more if things worked out right. He decided to head to a club he had never been to before, to see what it had to offer. He straightened his collar, and made sure his dark coat was centered properly on his shoulders. Then, with a stir little more than a zephyr, he disappeared.
Unnoticed by any of the crowd below, a small bat fluttered to a halt far above the bustling streets. As a small dark cloud obscured the moon for just a second, Besand materialized on the rooftop. He listened to the sounds of music mixed with unintelligible conversations, and the pulsing of human hearts permeated the air all around him. Hundreds of people migrated from club to club in waves.
He followed the edge of the building around to an alley, and in a blur, he scurried like a spider down a dark section of the wall. He brushed the dust from his overcoat and strolled casually into the crowd. His target was barely noticeable to the majority of the people out tonight. It was an inconspicuous blue door badly in need of painting. A man in a black turtleneck and shades sat on a small stool near it. Besand handed him a bill, and the bouncer opened the door.
Cool air from the street immediately flowed into the building as if sucked from a giant vacuum while at the same time the heavy beat of loud music almost blew him back out onto the street. He waited a moment for his hearing to adjust to the louder sounds, and then entered the dark room ahead. Besand had no trouble seeing in the dark, even with the flashing, colorful strobe lights all around the room. Waves of people gyrated with the rhythm surrounded by walls of pulsating light. Large video screens here and there flashed between screaming musicians to images of war and rioting in various stages across the world.
Besand wondered about these people's morbid fascination with violence and death. It seemed they feared it less that he did, which was odd considering his immortality. And at no time did he prey on a victim who welcomed Death's touch willingly, except maybe Dalia. That was different, since she knew about her pending immortality. Still, she was the most willing, fearless, and death defiant.
These people seemed numb. Most of them were high, drunk, or both. He wondered if that had anything to do with it. He would enjoy seeing how much fear was in his victim's eyes tonight when faced with the very real prospect of dying instead of watching it on a large screen.
Besand spotted the bar across the room. As he approached, he noticed a young woman sitting alone at a stool. She was sitting rather strangely, hugging her legs to her chest with her chin propped up on her knees. She was wearing black, lacy leggings, and little black boots that moved up and down in time with the music. Her blond hair was short, and barely reached her pale collarbone. Her lips were adorned with a very dark red lipstick and her finger nails in black or dark midnight blue. Besand flinched a bit when he noticed the silver chain around her neck, but then she looked up at him. She didn't smile, but looked rather curiously at him. Something stirred inside of him, and he knew this was the one. Perhaps the challenge drew him? She looked world wise, alert, and that chain would be a problem. He locked her eyes with his, and slowly crossed the room.
"Is this seat taken?" Besand asked.
She shook her head never breaking the eye contact.
"Thank you. My name is Besand."
