Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! Here is the chapter without further ado!
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Chapter 8:
The Effects of Perfection:
When waking, most people would be shattered to find that the angel that had slept in their arms the night before was gone. However, when I first opened my eyes, sadness at Miramae's absence was only the third thing that I felt.
The first was a profound sense of relief at being alone. The second, which followed the first in quick cadence, was a slight worry at the disappearance of the Dread.
It was only after those first feelings were confronted did I mourn the fact that her body was no longer pressed against mine. That in turn led to a fourth feeling that suddenly burned through my mind like a raging fire.
Annoyance.
A deep seated aggravation at my own mind, which had become all too infatuated with the stunning Vermyr.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for any signs of the missing culprit of my aforementioned state. Her bag of newly acquired clothing was still where she had left it, but considering who she was that meant very little. I worked my jaw with a mixture of tiredness and chagrin, turning to look back at the gray morning sky from the front window.
I needed coffee.
I contemplated whether I should venture into Wal-Mart for my needed dose of caffeine, but decided against it almost immediately. I wanted something that I could enjoy as I woke from my dreary state. Something hot and fresh that would bring me to life without the burden of a bad aftertaste.
I continued to stare blankly out at the parking lot. My morning lethargy was clinging to me like persistent Velcro. I frowned, realizing that coffee or a comparable vice would have to wait until later. I closed my eyes again.
**A shame...Tempo it is then.**
I could feel my body react almost immediately as I concentrated on the sprawling of ink that was etched across my back, each of the seven layers of specifically designed burns vibrating in conjunction as I unlocked the gates of Tasori.
Energy and clarity surged through me, and I felt the bits of sweat and condensation that had accrued on my forehead and neck overnight evaporate.
**That'll do pig.**
As quickly as I had unlocked it, I latched the temporal gate firmly closed once more. The heat faded and the focus that came with it dulled, but I was firmly awake. No hint of grogginess or haze remained in my mind as I prepared to deal with the oncoming day. Letting out a deep sigh, I pushed open my door and stepped out into the chilly morning air.
"Miramae?" I called in a slightly raised voice.
"Mmhmm?" Her voice sounded from the other side of the van in a muffled response.
I wrestled with whether I was glad she was still here for the space of moment before tucking the thought away. I rubbed my hands together briefly to generate some warmth on my cold fingers, then tucked them in my coat pockets as I walked around the back of the vehicle.
"Just a heads up--We've got a crowd."
I raised an eyebrow, peering around the corner curiously at her statement. I came to a near immediate halt, staring in confusion at what lay on the other side of the van.
Miramae's words were quite simply put, true.
A small crowd of people had gathered around area. There were at least ten of them, each wearing individual styles and all of various backgrounds and ages.
They weren't moving for the most part, but all of them were sprouting wide grins and staring dreamily at the Vermyr who was currently leaning against the side of the van.
"The hell?" I pulled my eyes away from the hypnotized group, looking towards Miramae questioningly.
The Vermyr was dressed similarly to the day before, but she had donned an oversized grey sweater that hung almost as low as her skirt. The added layer was an understandable choice given the brisk morning weather. That said, I doubt she needed it. Dreads didn't really need protection from the Elements.
I placed my hand on the side of van, leaning against the vehicle as I eyed the objects in her hand.
"Those things will kill you." I said dryly.
Miramae raised her shoulders in the barest of
shrugs, recognizing the jest in my tone.
"Worth it."
She was smoking, and not in the complimentary visual sense that one might use to reference attractiveness.
Well, that's not true.
She was absolutely smoking in that way as well, but that wasn't anything new. What was new the stack of what looked like ten or twelve of cigarettes bunched between her middle and index finger that were burning in happy preparation for inhalation.
She met my eyes, lifting the stubs to her lips before dragging deeply. The mass of lit ends glowed a vibrant orange as she drank in their smoke with enough force to suck an eight-ball through a straw.
"Jesus..." It was all I could muster in response.
I didn't even know where to begin.
"Yeah. I know." She pulled her hand away from her mouth.
She looked...exhausted.
Gorgeous. But tired all the same.
"Welcome to my life in Reora." Her dark lips curled into a grimace as she glanced back at the crowd of people that had gathered around her. "They just show up. Doesn't matter where I am. Started as soon as I got through the Breach. If I stay in any one place for too long, certain people end up just kinda...doing this. I think their brains get overloaded by my pheromones or something--honestly I have no idea. My keepers never really prepared me for something like this."
She shook her head, then brought her bundle of cigarettes back to her mouth and sucked in another lungful of fumes.
I realized, amidst all of the ongoing peculiarities of the morning, she had yet to exhale any of the smoke from her previous drag.
Dread biology wasn't exactly normal. They were born of largely of Ennem, a twisted energy exclusive to Edinmoor and more specifically the underlands of
Dredincross. It served to keep them alive through absolute extremes.
Many Dreads didn't need to breathe, eat, or sleep. They could recover from impossible injury, and sustain themselves on nothing but their innate carnal desires. That being said, it was still unnerving to watching the woman destroy an entire pack of cigarettes in two drags without showing any signs of discomfort.
"Fuuuuck. That hits the spot." Miramae said with a relaxed groan, dropping the scattering of butts to the pavement as they reached the end of their usefulness. "Too bad he only had one pack though." She gestured lazily towards a man in a poorly fitted grey suit as she spoke.
He was middle aged fellow with a somewhat greasy comb-over that did little to hide his balding crown. It seemed the price he paid for being incapable of resisting the Vermyr's presence was his carton of Reds.
It truly could have been far worse. Any other Dread would have required his life, his sanity, or both as recompense for such fragility.
"Are we leaving?" She asked, looking my direction.
I nodded vacantly, but I was troubled by the gathered onlookers.
I heard the Dread let out a relieved exhale at my confirmation as I thought about how to proceed. I glanced towards her again at the heavy sigh, watching only the tiniest remnant of smoke from her morning ritual escape her lips.
"What about these people?" I wagged a hand in the direction of her doe-eyed fans.
"What about them?"
I raised an eyebrow at her obvious disgust.
She responded with an eye roll.
