hell hath no fury like a woman scorned;, tag; con and later, leah.

[RACHEL BLACK]

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It wasn’t till she was several miles away, driving like a madwoman down a road she did not recognise, that Rach realised how incredibly childish she was being. Like, seriously, what had she been thinking! Stealing David’s car? And then deciding to use aforementioned, hijacked vehicle to transport her home and into the open, unjudging arms of her family? It was the actions likened to a crazy woman, not to a girl such as she, she – Rachel Black, a child prodigy by all accounts. Back in her schooling days it had been she everyone had had the highest hopes for, she who excelled ahead of the rest, she who had been thrust into the grade ahead of her peers and shocked people further still, but not only continuing to excel, but upon graduation, receiving a fully paid scholarship to Washington State. She was brilliant, logical, clear-thinking, and yet for all her intelligence, Rach had not been able to foresee her greatest downfall, had not been able to prevent herself from falling head-over-heels, irrevocably in love with a man entirely off limits in practically every possible way. David Templeton was her college professor, but if that wasn’t bad enough, he was married too. Their relationship was doomed before it had even begun and thus it should have come as little surprise to her when it finally ended. And yet, despite the limitless time she had to prepare herself for her impending heartache, when the time finally came, it simply wasn’t enough. Eternity would not have been enough. And so here she was, behaving every bit the immature child she was not, behind the wheel of his car, attempting to put as much distance between herself and her mistakes. Her dirty little secret. Logic and reason – two of her fondest friends – did not factor into the grand scheme of Rachel’s plan. In their stead, there was nothing but hurt, and anger, and the need to be around those people who loved her unconditionally. No matter what moralistic crime she had committed.

Strangely enough, despite the direction she was now headed, La Push had not been Rachel’s first destination choice. Originally she had toyed with the notion of jumping on a plane – though she despised them (there was something incredibly wrong about metal suspended in air) – and jetting to Hawaii to pay her beloved sister a surprise visit. Rebecca was not only her twin and therefore obligated to be on her side, but she had a talent for rebellion, which practically ensured that she’d receive Rachel’s news far better than her father and brother might. Over the years Rachel had learnt that no matter what she had done, Becca had always done worse. Though perhaps in this case that truth she had clamoured to in her youth did not apply? Regardless, halfway through packing, Rach had realised that the real dilemma wasn’t deciding which bikini to take. No, it was the confounding truth that Becca and her beau were newlyweds and as such the very air around them would reek of love and intimacy. Not exactly the ideal environment for her to mend her broken heart. And so, with little choice, she had packed up her things and headed home.

Tapping the steering wheel along to the radio, Rachel glanced listlessly at the sign up ahead, a reminder as to where she was headed – Three Miles to Forks – and exhaling a steadying breath, loosened her grip on the steering wheel. A nervous driver, Plan B didn’t exactly agree with her either, but she couldn’t very well walk to the Rez she told herself firmly, as she looked to the dashboard to reassess her speed. It was only then she noticed it – a tiny orange light, alongside the fuel gauge.

Cursing her misfortune and David’s inability to keep his car fuelled on the off chance she might need it for a quick get away, Rachel wracked her brain for the last time she had seen a gas station and…failed to recall one. It was typical really. Usually, Rach would have taken the main highway if she was heading home but considering she was driving a vehicle that had most likely been reported stolen by now, she had opted for the safety that the labyrinth of back roads, that wound a torturous journey through the heart of the countryside, offered. Considering her luck lately and how her misfortune seemed to amplify tenfold when it came to anything car-related, she really shouldn’t have been surprised by this sudden twist of fate but as she’d told no one of her impending arrival – not even her family, or close friend Leah – it really wasn’t the most ideal of situations for her to breakdown on the side of a seemingly deserted road under the cover of night. So naturally that was exactly what happened. Typical, just typical.

Becoming desperate, Rachel’s mind briefly traipsed over the notion that this was karma finally taking a much-deserved, much-delayed swing at her, before she turned off the radio and peered down the stretch of road laid out before her, praying for two pin-pricks of light that would indicate the headlights of an approaching vehicle. Groaning when God failed to appease her, she glanced fleetingly at the cat travel box on the passengers beat and then to the haunting glow of the orange light on the dash. “Come on baby.” She pleaded; patting the steering wheel in what she hoped was a cajoling fashion. “You can do it. Just a few more miles.” Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like the car was all that pleased by her attempts of persuasion for in the next moment it made a noise unlike anything she had ever heard. ”Oh c’mon!” Rach exclaimed; her fear turning to frustration as the car gave a final splutter, forcing her to pull over onto the side of the road. From beside her, her feline companion gave an irritable meow. “My sentiments exactly.” Rach murmured.

As silence descended upon them, one thought, and one thought alone, entered Rachel’s mind – she should have chosen Hawaii.

[CONNOR YORK]

A Thunderbird wasn't his first choice of car. In fact, if not for another member of his Coven insisting that he take the gift, Connor would have been just as content with driving a piece of junk automobile; hell, even a Buick would be fine. Actually, he wouldn't mind having one, because if anything he was a reckless driver, and if ever an accident occurred a Buick would be like a fortress of steel and probably demolish the other car involved. He smirked at the thought, but decided it was not so bad owning this particular vehicle. It was an eye-pleaser, certainly, and it ran beautifully. Patting the dashboard affectionately, he pressed his foot down on the gas pedal a bit harder, the same smug grin plastered on his lips.

Forks was a nice place to speed, he decided, not because there was any more excitement there than in other places, but because it was much smaller than his home in Seattle, much less crowded, and this made roaming open roads at high speeds an enjoyable pastime. There were still cops, yeah, but he hadn't run into any in his experiences there, so he must have been rather good with his choice of time and place, or intuitive enough to know when to slow things down. But what did slow mean, anyway? Con was the "fast and furious" type, one who pushed things to the limit. And even though Trinity was plenty exciting by itself, he'd grown bored of the place in mere hours, tired of the people there and wanting nothing more than to ram his foot on the pedal, steering wheel gripped tightly in thin, pale fingers.

Connor was headed in no particular direction, though at one point he'd contemplated eavesdropping on a few parties and blowing a couple of people's minds or barging into a bar he'd passed at some point and pick a fight for no reason whatsoever, anything to get an adrenaline rush. He hunted after leaving Seattle, picking off an unsuspecting human that traveled in a small group of others on an otherwise empty road. They were younger, late teens and early twenties, so he knew they were only goofing off in places they should not have been, and, if they'd been doing the right thing, the one he'd chosen would have still been alive. No loss for him, though; he found that young blood tasted the sweetest.

Actually, he had even thought about traveling to Illinois to stop in on his sister and see how she was doing. He hadn't been there in a few weeks, so he was fairly curious to see if anything new had happened. Of course, he was never able to show his face to her or his mother, for they were oblivious to his secret and had assumed that when he disappeared, really becoming the creature he was today, that he had either fled from his home or been murdered. Lately his mother was thinking that it was the latter option, though she always tried to be optimistic and tell her daughter, still young, that her brother would be back someday. But in her heart of hearts, she knew this was as far from the truth as it could get.

But instead, he found himself speeding down a dark, lonely road, pushing speeds past one hundred and still gaining, not planning on slowing down any time soon. His eyes were narrowed, fixed on the pavement in front of him, and as he drove the lyrics to "Stranglehold" roared in his ears. If anything got him fired up, it would be Ted Nugent, and on a night like this it seemed entirely appropriate. However, just as the meter read 115, an approaching figure (rather, a figure that he was approaching) on the side of the road caught his attention, and, with a lightening sense of reflex, he slammed his foot on the brake.

The car screeched to an abrupt stop, and his body jerked with the motion; a cloud of dust surrounded the area, and as it began to clear he was turning the car with an abnormal precision into a position right behind the broken down vehicle that had initially caught his eye. He killed the engine and opened the door, taking in a deep breath and releasing it with a quick shake of his head, lips still pulled up in an amused smirk. Toying with people was always fun, but tonight the idea seemed even more so. And besides, he wasn't planning on hurting the guy or anything, really just interested in what the problem seemed to be. Maybe he would even help, be the good guy for once.

He twirled the ring of keys with his finger and then shoved it in his pants pocket, sauntering slowly, almost aimlessly, to the car in front of him. With a sigh, a quick breath, he rapped on the driver's window; however, as he inhaled deeply (a habit that wasn't necessary, just practiced by many of his kind), a familiar, wicked stench filled his nostrils, forcing him to clench his teeth, baring them tightly. It was baffling, the scent; it had been clear to him before that the person inside the vehicle was, in fact, a person -- and a female at that, but the surrounding smell told him otherwise. It told him werewolf.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he muttered under his breath, the comment dark, devious; perhaps this would be more fun than he had first imagined.

[RACHEL BLACK]

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Behind the wheel, Rachel was nothing short of a catastrophe. For all Jake’s talent with mechanics, his older sister couldn’t even master the basics of driving, something that had become painfully apparent within the first five minutes of her first ever lesson. Within that scarily short amount of time, Rach had not only proven her incompetence to herself, her instructor and every other person, in a car or otherwise, within a three mile radius. But stalled countless times, nearly mowed down a pedestrian and taken a corner at such alarmingly high speeds that her instructor had been forced, in a fit of fear, to lean across her and turn the wheel sharply. His sudden action had caused the car to spin, before it finally came to a stop in the middle of the road, blocking the traffic across a two-lane highway, a chorus of horns blaring in disapproval. Needless to say after that escapade, her instructor had flat out refused to take her out again and so the duty had fallen first to her father, then to her twin sister and then finally, as a last hope, to her baby brother, who was still technically not permitted behind the wheel of a car. It was ironic the way the law worked. There was Rachel, who was legally allowed to drive, and yet was pretty much an accident waiting to happen and then there was Jake, who – for all his brilliance with anything remotely car-related – was not permitted to drive for legal reasons solely based on age. Go figure. Still, considering this was Rachel it was congratulations in itself that for once the car had broken down on its own accord instead of her making some kind of unthinkable mistake that resulted in it throwing in the towel on the side of the road if she was lucky enough, or in the middle of it, if she was not so lucky.

Enveloped in silence, her forehead resting against the steering wheel in defeat, Rachel reached an all new low – her thoughts ascending the definition of idiocrasy and breaching on that of madness. Contemplating such things like ‘the car was conspiring against her’ and ‘David had poisoned it to do his will,’ she straightened up, yanked her keys from the ignition and in a moment of blind frustration hurled them into the backseat. Breathing heavily, Rachel reached slender hands to her head and took a moment to massage her temples, her eyes catching the glint of silver keys in the rear-view mirror. Then and only then was she assaulted with memories of the times she and David had spent in the very car – rolling around in the backseat, fooling around in the front seat – the classic stories of a classic affair.

Disgusted, Rachel attempted to steady her breathing. She needed to concentrate, to focus, to clear her mind for but a moment so she could put a plan into action. She needed to stop acting like a child or someone that belonged in a friggin’ psych unit and just pull herself together. Easier said than done.

It took Rachel at least five minutes for her to calm herself down and decide where to go from there. In the end, her options proved limiting and so with her breathing finally returning to a normal pace, she unbuckled her seatbelt and arched her body in an ungraceful, yoga-tastic kind of way so she could reach her handbag in the backseat. Unwinding herself, bad in hand, Rach resettled back in her seat and began to rummage through the disarray that was the contents of her purse. She pulled out lip glosses she had forgotten she owned, several letters she was yet to mail and bills she had delayed opening. From within that bag came hair-ties and clips, a battered copy of the latest novel she was reading – Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov –, her organiser, several pens that had lost their lids and a bracelet she was meaning to have mended. And strewn amongst these items of value were the usual scrunched up tissues, discarded gum and candy wrappers and scraps of paper which had obscure messages doodled on them that no longer meant anything to her. Brow creased, her fingers finally grasped something cold and solid, an object marginally bigger than her palm – her cell phone. Triumphant she pulled it free and dialled the familiar number of Leah Clearwater.

Three rings passed before Leah picked up but when she finally did, Rachel found that asking for help was possibly the hardest thing about this entire ordeal. It just wasn’t in her character to ask for help, as she was simply too proud to admit she might just need it. “Hey Leah…It’s Rach. I-“ She paused and glanced down the road, briefly contemplating the idea of walking until she found a gas station. Or a rapist, she reminded herself. Swallowing hard, she continued: “I need your help Leah.” She then proceeded to explain what had happened and give a description of where she was as best as she could, before thanking her and ending the call.

Sighing Rachel sank back into her seat. The need to stretch her legs and breathe fresh air was overwhelming and so, without another thought, she opened her door – right into the young man standing directly outside her window.

Eyes widening in surprise, Rachel flung a hand to her mouth. Her first instinct was to apologise and her second, to be weary – though she quickly dismissed that idea. If there was danger to be found it would certainly not be found in dreary old Forks. “Oh I didn’t see you there! Are you all right?” She apologised, taking care as she climbed out of her traitorous vehicle and into the light cast by the moon above.

[CONNOR YORK]

As he stood outside the vehicle, waiting for a reply, Connor was deep in thought, particularly about the array of scents that whirled in his mind. It was very possible that the human scent had come from any number of places near him, but it had been alive, strong, much more powerful than any faraway thing. Notion number two, the creature in the car was a werewolf and carried a defining human smell because of its interactions with other humans. And of course, the possibility that he was right, that it was a person in the driver's seat after all; because really, there were a number of people associated with the werewolves, because they lived among humans just as many vampires did, often blending in with the community as different, sure, but not too different to be inhuman.

He observed as the -- the thing in the car pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number, then spoke. Listening, his mind strayed a bit, and he wondered if she'd even noticed his presence at all. This was doubtable, judged by the way in which she acted, intimidated because of her situation but not really because some strange man stood outside her car. He pursed his lips, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets and rocking back on his heels, taking in the name. Leah, huh? He'd have to remember that. And the girl's name was Rach, Rachel most likely, and neither names were familiar to him. At least it wasn’t anyone he knew or had heard of, he thought, or at least not that he could remember.

It never occurred to him that cell phones existed, that this girl would probably have one and would probably have someone to contact for help. But still, he decided he wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until he knew what she was and, if she was a werewolf, why she was traveling by herself at such a late hours. Because werewolves traveled with their pack, right? And mostly by foot. He wasn’t entirely common with the lifestyles of the species and whatnot, but he had heard some things from other vampires he was associated, and folklore, of course, which he was always skeptical about. Seeing is believing, and this is the way he always went about things; Connor was never really an idealist, after all. He’d much rather have solid proof to back everything up so that it could at least be verified, be definite.

He pondered this for several moments, finding himself lost in these ideas, and he hardly had time to react when the car door swung open, pulling him from his thoughts. Eyes wide, he leapt back, moving at an incredible rate so that the door didn’t have the opportunity of coming in contact with him. He took in the apology, and it became sudden very quickly that yes, this girl was human; no werewolf would ever be sorry toward a vampire, this much he knew. It just wasn’t in their nature, in their blood. And it was almost funny to him, the way she covered her mouth like that, looking as horrified as she could possibly be. He wondered he she must feel, almost slamming a door into someone without even knowing they were there, how terrible the feeling must be.

Shaking his head, he took a step forward, hands still in his pockets; he looked unruffled, calm and poised as though nothing had ever happened, and, in a matter-of-fact sort of tone, he said, “I did knock.” He continued a few steps, sidling up to the car slowly, taking in the girl’s -- Rachel’s -- appearance. She was stunning, he found in an instant, absolutely breathtaking. Everything from her eyes to her hair was perfect, her skin, her hands, the shape of her body and the fullness of her lips. The moonlight fell on her in an elegant way, like something out of a fairytale, out of a movie, making her glow with the dim light that it emitted. His eyes scanned her, focused on her intently, and to him she was gorgeous, to him, she was perfect. And more than just her appearance caught him off guard, because underneath the appalling odor of the wolves there was a delicious, underlying scent that nearly made him lightheaded, made him want to move past the reek that repelled him. It was the only thing that kept him at bay, kept him a few feet apart from her.

He’d be at her throat by now if she’d smelled anymore enticing.

“But it’s fine, really,” he continued, pointing out the obvious. “I’m perfectly okay.” Leaning against the car, he added, “So, um, Rachel, was it? Seems you’re having some trouble here.”

[RACHEL BLACK]

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The moonlight brought two facts into alarming clarity. Firstly, she was quite literally in the middle of no where. As far as the eye could see there was not a trace of life, not a single sign of civilisation, save the road she had been travelling down, that indicated that in less than three miles there would be a town – granted a sparsely populated town – but a town none the less. Having spent the better part of two years away at college, Rachel was not used to such isolation. She had grown accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city, the crowds, the noise. Out here it was practically silent – if you ignored the steady thrum of her heart and the discontented meow of her passenger – and that irked her. Out here, she could see the stars, could breathe in fresh air. Out here she was utterly alone. Well…nearly. The second fact was right on the heels of the first, and equally as disconcerting. This man, the man she had attempted to take out with her door, was beautiful. Rachel grappled at the edges of her expand vocabulary in search of a word more fitting, but found none. He was just…beautiful in every possible way. His hair was dark and dishevelled, his skin eerily pale under the luminance of the moon and beneath the thin material that clothed him, she knew there would be a body that would align itself with the fine craftsmanship of his face.

Utterly spellbound, a moment dragged on for a minute and then that minute dragged on furthermore until it teased the line of what was socially acceptable and what was just downright embarrassing. Fortunately, just before that line was crossed there was an irate meow from inside the car and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to guess where it was coming from. Still, for once in the cats pathetic excuse of a life, it had served a function aside from eating her and its owner – Rach’s room-mate, Jillian – out of house and home and that deserved acknowledgment. More grateful than she was willing to admit, Rachel took a moment to collect herself as she turned and scowled in the direction of the cat carrier, reaching over ever so slightly so she could put her hand near the opening, allowing Babycakes – for that was her incredibly overweight, feline companion’s name – to sniff her fingers. “Look. I’m still here. Where here is I’m not exactly sure…” She trailed off and straightened, facing the young man once more.

Not for the first time, fresh air assaulted her lungs and Rach was forced to breathe deeply. She had forgotten how different it smelt out here – like grass and trees and damp. So very different from the smoke she had been breathing in over the last few years. It was strange how quickly she had adapted to the life of the city so now practically a hop-skip-and-jump away from home felt slightly alien. Without much thought Rachel found herself mimicking him as she too thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans and leant back against the driver’s side, door ajar. Her expression was neutral, her eyes curious, though she remained distantly wary – the vastness of their surrounds a reminder that in a place like this, no one would hear her scream.

Her apology was met by a casual, matter-of-fact reply – ”I did knock.” – and unsure, Rachel’s brow creased. Had he knocked? Perhaps he had and she’d been too caught up in her phone call to realise? Too distraught by the idea of having to ask for help, that she had not noticed the strange young man standing by her door-side, had not heard it when he reached out and rapped his knuckles on the glass of her window. That story sat nicer with her than the alternative – no he hadn’t knocked; he was just a lying rapist slash murderer out for a nightly stroll. Subconsciously Rachel found herself nodding, albeit a bit delayed, and she watched him cautiously as he approached her and leant against car. Shifting her own body to face him she moved a stray piece of hair from her eyes.

“So, um, Rachel, was it? Seems you’re having some trouble here.”

“Right…” She confirmed, eyebrow raised sceptically. Now there was really no way he could know that! Unless… “Do I know you?” Doubtfully. Very doubtful. She would have remembered a face like his. Her expression changed and Rachel took a deliberate step back, putting distance between them. ”Look, I don’t need any trouble all right? My friend will be here soon so I suggest you jump back into your car and get going.” With all that said and done, now all she needed to do was mean it. But for whatever, unexplainable reason, that was the last thing she wanted right now.

[CONNOR YORK]

He had seen and experienced many things in his life, but Connor wasn't so sure anything like this had ever happened to him before. Sure, he had been alone with some pretty women a few times, but alone with a dazzling young thing on a godforsaken street that just so happened to be in the middle of nowhere? He couldn't recall such a incident. The way the girl acted was cute, to say the least. Connor adored the expression she had when she first set eyes on him, an expression most people, namely female, wear when they see him. Catching eyes is something he's adjusted to doing, and even he has to admit that it's gone to his head a little. Being adored by the ladies isn't something he would ever complain about, and surely something he had taken advantage of a few times since becoming a vampire.

But, to make things even more unique, the meow from within the car seemed a little out of place and had him raising his eyebrows, because although he wasn't sure as to whether or not werewolves disliked cats just as dogs did, it was a very amusing thing. He was certain that this night would stand alone next to other nights, and for some reason or another he knew that this would be something he would want to remember, though the reason behind this was more than just a mystery to him.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly as Rachel spoke to the cat. He himself had never owned a pet, but it was always entertaining to watch people talk to animals as though they can understand what the person was saying to them. He knew they didn't, too; you could tell a dog it was the dumbest thing in the world, but if you say it in a sweet voice it will react just as though you had told it that it was the most talented, genius thing you have ever seen. However, he wasn't quite sure where werewolves would fit in with the equation, because he would rather just tell one that they're a horrid, wretched creature that doesn't deserve a spot on the Earth. But that's just putting it lightly.

“Do I know you?”

Connor slowly shook his head. "Nah, I just heard you say it over the phone. Unless Rach is your name or it's short for something else?" It didn't dawn on him until just then that it would seem strange that he'd overheard her quick conversation; while the words were crystal clear to him because of his acute sense of hearing, they would have been almost inaudible to normal ears unless one leaned in very closely to the window. Scrambling for an excuse but keeping composure, as he was mostly good at doing, he rubbed the back of his head with a fake front of nervousness. "Aah, sorry if it seems I was eavesdropping. I just overheard by accident." Hopefully that would suffice.

"Look, I don’t need any trouble all right? My friend will be here soon so I suggest you jump back into your car and get going.”

Tilting his head to the side, Connor wondered why she was so hasty when it came to making him leave. Then he noticed that it must feel weird, being approached by a strange man on an empty road in the middle of the night; he'd never been in the situation, so he couldn't really relate. But he paused thoughtfully, sparing a few moments to think of what to say. "Why so eager to see me go? Heh, it doesn't look like you're in any hurry, and I've got all the time in the world. I could stay here with you until your friend gets here -- that is, unless you'd rather me leave, but there's no telling who or what roams the streets at this time of night."

[RACHEL BLACK]

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Rachel had watched enough horror films to be well-acquainted with the natural progression of events. Essentially, the classic horror movie could be broken down into three generalised parts. One: innocent person – usually female – winds up alone in the middle of no where. Two: dashing young stranger happens to be in the same place at the same time and offers a helping hand. Three: just as the innocent girl begins to trust the stranger he reveals his true nature and bam! Rachel didn’t actually know what followed next because by that point, she usually had her head buried beneath the covers or her face hidden behind her hands, but she was willing to make an educated guess that it was something horrific like chopping off the girls head or knocking her out and taking her to a secret location. Much to Rachel’s dismay, the meeting between herself and this handsome stranger had aligned itself a little too closely to the first two parts of the script. Well…if you cast a blind eye to the tiny, rather insignificant detail about the girl being innocent – having been an active participant in a fling with a married man and recently stolen said man’s car, Rach had been forced to relinquish her halo. Still, regardless of whether she ended up in pieces by daybreak or stranded in the same location, waiting for Leah to ride in and rescue her, this was certainly not how Rachel had planned to spend her first night back home.

“Oh.” She said finally, accepting his explanation after a moment’s consideration. So he’d heard her on the phone – never mind the fact he had done so though the glass and metal, she’d obviously been talking rather loudly. And yet, regardless of his story checking out and the nagging voice at the back of her head telling her to drop it, Rach was adamant to see him climb back inside his flashy car, which she had only just spotted, and leave. Or at least that was the plan. No sooner had she raised her eyes to meet his, determination setting her jaw, the request died on her lips. It was embarrassingly really. For all her smarts, she still seemed to throw everything to the wind in the face of an attractive male. Pathetic.

So instead of telling him exactly where to go and how to get there, Rachel caved.

“It’s Rachel, but Rach is fine too.” She offered, a small smile tracing the curve of her mouth. Most people called her by her nickname these days, it sounded strange to be addressed by her full name. Strange, but not unpleasant. Though she doubted anything would sound unpleasant when he said it.

“Look, it’s not you. You’re nice, very nice. It’s just like you said-” This was painful. Rachel had had a talent with words since she was little, a result of all her reading. She was eloquent, well-spoken, captain of the debating team, and yet here she was struggling to string together two sentences without making herself look like a babbling fool. And it wasn’t just the fact that the person she was corresponding with was easily one of the most attractive people she had ever seen, it was everything. Having had her heart recently shattered into a thousand pieces, the stolen car, how she’d had to ask for help for possibly the first time in a long time and the fact that it must have been nearing midnight by now and she was exhausted, her eyes heavy and her body stiff from spending so many hours behind the wheel. “There’s no telling who or what roams the streets at this time of night.” Rachel concluded after the extended pause.

Considering the way she had accused him so outright, a part of Rachel felt like she owed this young man an apology, but unfortunately, apologies walked hand-in-hand with admitting to defeat, and as far as she was concerned, she hadn’t done anything wrong. There was nothing wrong about being cautious in the company of strangers. Still, perhaps an explanation was needed? Although it wouldn’t take a genius to realise something was wrong with her vehicle, what with the whole ‘not-moving-have-to-call-for-back-up’ deal. “I-” She began, her pride preventing an outright confession – not noticing the level of gas in the tank wasn’t exactly something she could pass off as the mistake of an educated person and getting into the details as to why she hadn’t noticed the orange light until it was too late, meant having to explain why she was distracted and that just wasn’t a topic Rachel felt like breaching right now. Especially not with a stranger. Especially not with a very attractive stranger. “I had a slight disagreement with my car. I thought it could make the three miles to the next town. It didn’t. And so here we are.” Rach removed her hands from her pockets to spread her arms wide, motioning to the surroundings, a smile lighting her face.

As silence enveloped them once more, her gaze grew curious. ”What are you doing anyhow? It’s a bit late to be going for a scenic drive, isn’t it?”

[CONNOR YORK]

Despite what he was, Connor never considered himself the classic, old-fashioned vampire, one of the creatures seen in way too many horror films for anyone to count. There were plenty of notable differences between himself and these things, the most prominent being appearance; vampires were never the disgusting, horrid figures portrayed in the movies, and instead of finding offence in it he thought it to be rather funny, because it was the contrary that was true and it seemed to be a fact no one had ever taken notice or had ever thought of. Of course, there were books and such depicting vampires as attractive, though he'd never cared to read them. Many of these turned out to be romance novels, which he strongly disliked (though he had never taken much of an interest in reading in the first place). But there were other large differences, such as the sun factor, which he was more than glad for. Better to be immersed in sparkles than to shrivel in the sunlight, he thought, even if the latter was more fitting for a scary story.

And so, he wasn't really the typical bad guy, simply because he didn't follow all of these stereotypes. Even so, this girl had no idea of what he was, no idea that he wasn't just a seemingly insane guy with no business hanging around her. To her, he imagined he would appear one of those other bad guys, the less exciting, human killers, a creepy guy who planned to kill an innocent girl just because he could and wanted to. Which wasn't true, really; he'd never killed with no purpose more than once or twice, in the beginning due to accidents and other incidents out of mere boredom. But, he wasn't nearly as bad as some of the vampires he knew, beings that would slaughter simply because they had the ability, because they had nothing better to do with their time or powers. In any case, Connor wasn't the mainstream anything, vampire or murderer. He liked to go beyond what was predictable, if anything. (Besides, his choice weapon would never be a gun or knife, or even a chainsaw; he’d go with something that hadn’t been used before.)

“It’s Rachel, but Rach is fine too.” Rach. Rachel. He liked the sound of that; the name rang in his mind, repeated itself a few times, and immediately he knew it was a name he would not be forgetting any time soon. “Look, it’s not you. You’re nice, very nice. It’s just like you said- There’s no telling who or what roams the streets at this time of night.” Of course he was right. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that what he had said was accurate, because truly, the night is a dangerous time for any human, regardless of gender and other such things. In fact, he considered this girl -- this, this Rachel -- to be a bit lucky to be in her predicament, because there are plenty of other things that could get to her right now even if he couldn’t. She spoke about her car next, and it was more than obvious that she’d had a ‘disagreement’ with it. At the time, it must have felt like a very unfortunate thing, to be stranded in the middle of the night in a broken-down vehicle, seeming even like karma to those who believed in such a thing.

“What are you doing anyhow? It’s a bit late to be going for a scenic drive, isn’t it?”

Connor shrugged, the edges of his lips tugging into a smirk. It wasn’t too hard to explain himself there, because he had nothing but the truth to reveal. “I was bored and looking for something to occupy my time,” he explained, gesturing distantly with a slight movement of his hand. “Just got the car a couple of days ago and decided to give it a real test drive, see what it can do. What, is there any law against being curious about something -- or having fun?” He laughed softly, knowing all too well that what he said had been cheesy at best; no one really goes for a drive at such an hour just for entertainment, but then, he wasn’t just anyone. He could have made up an excuse, a quick, easy lie to better justify his actions, though none of it would really be necessary. Having not been out for a hunt or some morbid fun, there wasn’t really anything that he’d done wrong. Not yet, anyway; what happened in the future was never clear to him. If he could have been reborn as a vampire with an ability, having premonitions would either be the thing he’d want most, or the thing he’d want least. The future is an intimidating, frightening thing, after all. He was pretty sure he would rather settle for being oblivious to what would happen next (even though in this scenario, knowing what the turnout would be was an interesting thought).

[RACHEL BLACK]

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Lips a breath apart, Rachel was about to answer him, to agree with him, when – from inside her car – her cell phone sprung to life, belting out a cheesy ring tone she had never bothered to change. Her first reaction was delayed. She thought of Leah – her childhood friend, her knight in shining armour. Perhaps she had gotten lost? Perhaps she too had had car troubles and was now stranded on the side of the road – a horrible coincidence they could laugh about later. But as the music persisted, Rachel’s expression changed from one of amusement to shock. Frozen to the spot, she stared dumbly through the window at the blue light flashing up at her, beckoning.

“I-” She turned to face the nameless man once more, her brow furrowed. ”Sorry. I have to take that.” Dazed, Rachel climbed back inside the car and reached for her phone, pressing the green answer button. “…David?”

To say Rachel did not know what madness had possessed her to take up a relationship with a married man, her professor nonetheless would be a lie. Rachel knew exactly what had possessed her. There was no denying it. Love made people do stupid things. It could give a wounded father and husband the strength to deliver the final, deadly blow to a man that threatened the life of his loved ones. It could give someone who was laying on their deathbed, about to relinquish their claims to life, the fighting spirit to pull through. It could make a person willingly forsake their own life for another, giving up their last breath so one who had touched their heart could carry on. Love could destroy you but without it, everything else seemed a little less worthwhile, dull, bland and incomplete. It was Rachel’s firm, unwavering belief that a life without love was truly a life not worth living and so it was in the name of love and all that it represented, that she had ventured forward blindly, her heart in David’s hands, forsaking all else – her morals, the happiness of a family, his career and her pristine reputation – for something that could not be seen, or heard or even touched; something so flimsy, so delicate, like gossamer or the thinly spun silk of a spider web, that even to speak of it was enough to threaten its vulnerable existence. Unfortunately, something so precautious could never be expected to last, especially when subjected to the harshness of reality. When the secret had finally come out, when their relationship had finally been forced into the blinding glare of the public, David had faltered and by doing so, he had broken her heart. And despite how his very name still made her heart ache, Rachel had no intention of ever taking his back so he could have the pleasure of doing it again. Though – considering she was stolen his car and fled – she highly doubted this would end up being the type of conversation where he tried to convince her that her place was in his arms.

And she was right.

No sooner had Rachel said his name, a stream of insults reached out to slap her in the face. “Rachel you crazy bitch! I know what you did! I-” She hung up, cutting him off mid threat. He couldn’t tell the cops, that much she knew. If he tried, they’d want to know the reason as to why a young girl, one of his top students nonetheless, would do something like that and considering he’d just been fired from his job after being found to be involved with one of his students…Well, it wasn’t exactly a mystery in the making. And shedding further light on their situation would be the last thing David would want right now.

Deciding against switching her phone to silent, or worse yet – hurling it into the adjacent field – in case Leah might need it to contact her, Rachel placed it on the dash and climbed out of the car once again, chin held high. If this young stranger had managed to make out that her name was Rachel through the car door, he would certainly have got the gist of the conversation. Still, there was nothing overly revealing about some empty threats and a name, so she her secret would remain just that. For now at least. Inwardly, Rachel groaned. Somehow the truth had a nasty way of making itself known.

Glancing at her watch, her eyes straining in the moonlight, she did some quick mental. She’d called Leah possibly twenty minutes ago. The drive from the Rez would take forty-five minutes tops, maybe thirty-five if she gunned it so even if Leah drove like a hoon, that still left a decent amount of time. Lowering her arm to her side, Rach toyed with words in her head. She couldn’t stand anyone – not even a stranger she might never see again – thinking that this was common practise. Well, maybe car troubles were her thing, but everything else – the blabbering, the uneasiness, the hostility. The whole damsel in distress thing just wasn’t really her style and never had been. “This is a bad day for me. Just in case you were wondering. Just in case you thought this was what a normal day in my life is like, you should know it’s not. On a normal day I tend to avoid cars. On a normal day I kick ass.” Not as eloquently put as she might have hoped, but the point was there.

[CONNOR YORK]

Connor shook his head once, curtly, to indicate that it was perfectly fine that she take the call. Of course, what else was he to do, tell her no and force her to ignore it? The thought was amusing, though, because he couldn't imagine someone doing that. Even he couldn't find it in himself to be that rude, despite all of the harsh things he had done to people in his years. Arms crossed, he peered in through the window, easily picking up Rachel's side of the conversation. By the look on her face and the tone in which she spoke, the gestures she made, it was fairly easy to guess that she was not happy with whoever she was speaking with. He always found it oddly personal to watch someone become upset, almost as though it were a personal thing, like he was intruding on the secret lives of another. There was no telling what importance lay behind the call, who was on the other line or what said person had told her, but whatever it was, Connor had a feeling it was nothing good.

Rachel emerged, chin lifted, and this was appealing to him. Because even though she seemed to be in a tough situation, and whatever she was dealing with outside of just being broken down in this place, she still seemed like she retained her confidence, her pride, which were things scarcely found in humans at all, let alone the females he had encountered. But, it seemed like Rachel had plenty of both things, and perhaps a lot more that Connor did not know about but was definitely curious to experience, to figure out for himself. He wanted so badly to peer inside her mind for just a moment, to figure her out right then and there, to understand how her mind worked. This caught him off guard, because normally he didn't express such an interest in humans other than for feeding purposes; yeah, sometimes he liked to observe them if nothing but to remember what his old life (though it had only disappeared a short number of years ago it seemed so far gone) had been like, what he was missing out on now.

But he didn't think that he was missing out on much, not really. Sure, there were normal, human things that he would never do, human tasks that he would never carry out, would never accomplish. He would never raise a family, he would never grow old, he would never have the chance to say goodbye to the ones he loved before they or he passed away. There would be no celebrating holidays, no being there for his sister when she got married and watching her bring up her own family, hopefully a good one with someone that could support her, take care of him like he couldn't do anymore. He would never be there for his mother once she was too old to take care of herself, and he wouldn't even be able to sit at her bedside and hold her hand when days seemed to be just too hard on her. But it was okay, really, all of this; these were things of his human life, a life he didn't hold on to anymore. It was a mere memory to him now, something he was fond of but something he could never return to. And for the time being, he was content with what he was, content with this new life. It took some getting used to, but he was just beginning to adjust to everything -- just as one does when they are born into the world. That's what it was to him, his becoming a vampire. A rebirth.

“This is a bad day for me. Just in case you were wondering. Just in case you thought this was what a normal day in my life is like, you should know it’s not. On a normal day I tend to avoid cars. On a normal day I kick ass.”

The words brought him back to earth, and he took them in, pausing for the smallest instant before giving a haughty scoff. "... Is that so?" An eyebrow raised smoothly, and his expression was curious, interested; he was nothing short of intrigued by what had been said. "And do you mind me asking what kind of ass it is that you kick? I don't think I could imagine, honestly." Which wasn't a lie, actually, at least not at first. It took a moment for him to be able to properly envision Rachel wailing on anyone, though after a short brief seconds of thought the image was crystal clear in his mind. He almost laughed aloud at it, because when looking at the girl it seemed entirely too fitting, but instead he just shook his head back and forth to himself, slowly, thoughtfully. "Not to say anything about you personally. Sorry if that came across as an insult." Truthfully, even if Connor could be swift with words at most times, he wasn't a perfect being. He had his slipups in conversations just like anyone else, particularly when he was more interested in what the other person had to say.

But anyway, the avoiding cars thing was strange, too. He'd heard of avoiding other things like specific people, or spiders and airplanes, in his case (two phobias he'd rather keep to himself; he didn't even want to think of how the other members of his coven would react to this knowledge, especially if any of them happened to dislike or hold a grudge against him), but never vehicles. Just another thing that redefined Rachel as unique, he supposed.

[RACHEL BLACK]

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“Well yours for starters.” She teased, head tilted to the side, a smile playing across her unusually full lips. This was who she really was. Brilliant, undoubtedly, but optimistic too, charming, playful, exuberant. This is what David had stolen from her – a precious part of her identity. He had made her doubt herself, had turned her ability to love and trust without question, without thought or consequence, against her. He had brought out her bad side, the side she had not even known existed, had made her see green and then red and now, in his absence, she felt incomplete. And it was entirely his fault. She was the product of his creation. Reaching a hand up to ruffle her hair, Rachel laughed carelessly, her eyes – an intense blue – never leaving his. Perhaps this visit home would be more healing than she had originally thought. “But seriously, I’ve been a superstar since I was in diapers. Being a success is part of who I am. I was top of my class, skipped a grade when I was in freshman year and when I graduated, I was offered a fully paid scholarship to Washington State. The world is literally my oyster.” Rachel conveniently skipped over the part where she turned into an adulterous bitch and a thief. “The point is I’m smart, an ass-kicker. The point is…” She trailed off, only just realising what she was doing. Instantly her expression became one of horror and her cheeks flushed. Resisting the urge to clap a hand over her mouth and put a stop to the trail of word vomit that seemed determined to turn this handsome stranger against her, Rachel took a deep breath and shook her head. “The point is I should no better than to just rattle of my life’s achievements to a complete stranger. God!”

In a single fluid motion, Rachel levered herself away from the car and turned away from the young man. Her cheeks hot and her eyes downcast, she raised a single slender hand, appearing pale beneath the moonlight, to her temple – something that was fast becoming a habit of hers – and pressed her eyes closed. Embarrassment was not an emotion Rachel was well-acquainted with. She was unnaturally bright and gifted in a way not often seen, and when you factored in her competitive nature and perfectionist streak you had yourself an unstoppable force. Failure was not an option. Anything less than the very best was not an option. In Rachel’s world she knew only of success and its associated feelings. To her, embarrassment was alien.

In this way, and many others the Black sisters differed. Despite their physical likeness and their mother’s habit of dressing them in matching outfits during the early days of their childhood, Rachel and Rebecca couldn’t have been more different. While Rachel strived for excellence, Rebecca went with the flow. While Rachel toed the line, Rebecca danced all over it – rebellious through and through – and while Rachel knew not of failure, actively shying away from anything she could not perfect, Rebecca just didn’t give a damn. She embraced her failures, embraced her mistakes, her imperfections and was stronger for it. It was this, for all Rachel’s intelligence, she could not comprehend. Indeed, Rachel and Rebecca were like two sides of a coin, night and day, ying and yang. Polar opposites in nearly every way, yet they seemed to gravitate towards each other, never fully achieving optimum balance unless the other was present, never feeling complete or whole without the other by their side. It was because of this that Rachel’s first thought had been of Rebecca in her time of need, but Becca had her own life now and someone else to share it with, the soul mate she had chosen, instead of the one that had been chosen for her. And Rachel, who for all her happiness for her sister, could not stem her envy. Rebecca was in love and Issac loved her back, and Rach with her grief and anger, could do nothing but look on. It was because of this that Rachel’s second thought had been of home, her family and Leah – the girl she had always been able to count on while they were growing up. The only other girl in the world, aside from her sister, that she felt actually understood her.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was steady and starved of emotion. She made no attempt to face him. “Seriously, I really wouldn’t blame you if you climbed back inside that flashy car of yours and left me here. In fact, I’ll give you a guilt free escape opportunity. If you’re gone before I count to ten, I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

She began counting. Fast at first – ”One…Two…Three…” – but as she neared the halfway point, ‘five’ on the top of her tongue, she found herself slowing. She was playing with fate, daring him to stay. To give the girl who was broken down on the side of the road – in more ways than one – a chance to prove that she was worth it, that there was more to her than psychotic rambling and bad luck. She wanted to prove that she was the girl worth sticking around for. She wanted to be that girl.

And yet, at the same time, a part of her dearly wanted him to walk away. To protect whatever good opinion he had formed of her before she wound up disappointing him. “…Seven…Eight…”

[CONNOR YORK]

“Well yours for starters.”

Though the comment came across as teasing, Connor couldn't help but give a small laugh and rolls his eyes, simply because of the irony in what had been said. Her, a human, do anything to hurt him? Not only was it unlikely, but it was downright impossible. A human hand couldn't touch him without him knowing about it first, a weapon of any sort would be irrelevant, would be useless. So the statement was far more amusing than it should have been, if anything because of how unfeasible it was. However, he'd like to see her, or any other human for that matter, try and make a scratch on him. It would definitely be interesting, if nothing more than that, considering even other vampires had a hard time bringing damage to him. Never had he lost a fight, and this was something he didn't expect would change, not for a very long time if ever at all.

He listened as she was nearly rambling on about her personality, her perfection, and he didn't doubt any of it, didn't doubt the world ate out of her palm and did as she pleased, served to suit her fancy. In fact, he almost found himself agreeing with the fact that even he would do something for her if she asked, and inwardly he told himself he was stupid, an imbecile, for thinking such a thing. Connor didn't do anything for anyone other than Connor; that is, unless the person in question was especially close to him, which this girl was most certainly not. He'd just met her, why should he be so interested, so caught up in learning about her, waiting for the next thing that she said? It wasn't until she had been speaking until she trailed off, leaving her statement at an abrupt stop, and then caught herself, realized what she had been doing. Connor scoffed, because she had been going on aimlessly about herself to a complete stranger. Indeed, he hadn't even told her his name yet. A stranger was a perfectly fine way to describe himself in relation to her, yet she was speaking almost comfortably about things that touched the line of being personal, things you didn't tell people you had never met before in your life. However, he couldn't bring himself to care at all, because he'd been enjoying listening to her speak, taking in the things she shared to him about herself. He was almost disappointed when she stopped her one-sided conversation.

“Seriously, I really wouldn’t blame you if you climbed back inside that flashy car of yours and left me here. In fact, I’ll give you a guilt free escape opportunity. If you’re gone before I count to ten, I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

But Connor had no intention of leaving. The thought didn't even cross his mind, not for an instant. So as Rachel counted, he leaned against the car leisurely, elbows propped up and fingers tapping against the frame. His eyes were closed, lips drawn up into a grin, and when she reached eight he parted his lips for a mock-yawn, covering his mouth with a hand for emphasis. Leaving on his own accord was impossible; he couldn't bring himself to even consider doing so. She was too much, too intriguing, too special, too everything, really, and in his heart of hearts he wanted to listen to her speak for much longer, and if not that then at least for a bit longer. But all of this was a little hard for him to take in, because he'd never wanted to spend time with anyone before, not like this, and shit, it had been mere minutes since he first laid eyes on her. Curiosity, though, was his reason for wanting to stay so badly. Even he doubted himself about this front; it was hard to convince himself that it was entirely true. There were other things binding him there, things he couldn't explain. Maybe it was her shockingly blue eyes, a brilliant color that was hard to wrap his mind around. Had he ever seen such a blue before? Not in the eyes of a creature, definitely not.

When ten rolled around, he reopened his eyes, an eyebrow raised, and waited for a moment. It was quiet, and the air was still, though every so often a very faint breeze passed, ruffling his hair a bit before it calmed, disappeared again. He took in a deep, steady breath, then exhaled just as deeply, turning his eyes to Rachel's and holding them there. "...Well?" he asked after a long while, the word smooth and matching his grin, his entire expression, precisely. He turned his gaze away, scanning the area for a few seconds, then took up looking into Rachel's eyes again. "I'm still here."

[RACHEL BLACK]

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“…Nine…Ten…” Rachel paused, taking a deep breath before turning around again. In the moments leading up to this, she had prepared herself for an empty space, symbolic of his absence, but having not heard the sound of departing footsteps, of a door opening, closing and an engine roaring to life, she had hope. Hope that he might stay. And for the first time, in a long time, she was not disappointed. Surprised, maybe. Confused, yes. But not disappointed.

Despite the tragic, heart-wrenching way in which it had ended, there had once been a time when her every wish had been David’s command. In those days, disappointment was just as alien to Rachel as failure. For her, he had rearranged his days, cancelling and rescheduling prior commitments just so he could spend the afternoon in her company. He had showered her with gifts, both extravagant and sentimental in nature, small tokens of his affection. He had shown her love, and although he had a wife and family, two perfect precious children that had their father’s eyes and their mothers hair – a fact that Rachel was never able to entirely escape – there was a time when she had begun to view their relationship beyond the limitations of adultery and sex. She had loved him with everything she had. That had been her first mistake. From then on, it had been as though a loose string had been pulled and everything she had begun to rely on, everything she held dear, unravelled before her very eyes. Disappointment became her constant companion, anger her closest friend.

Arching an eyebrow skyward, Rachel appraised him curiously. He had been given the perfect out, a guilt free escape opportunity where no judgment would be pinned upon him if he took the highway and never looked back, never to think of her ever again, and yet, for whatever reason, he had not taken it. In fact, as she watched him leaning casually against the side of David’s her car, his expression somewhat amused and a light breeze disturbing his hair, it didn’t appear as though he had even moved an inch. What kept him there, Rachel was not sure. Again, the idea of him being some kind of serial killer flittered across her mind as a form of explanation, but this time, she dismissed it quickly. There was just something about him – and no, it wasn’t his good looks, or her bad judgement – that made her trust him, unconditionally. She felt a pull towards him, she felt – in his presence – her world turn on its axis and realign itself so that it no longer revolved around the sun, but around him instead. It was such a strange feeling considering she hardly knew him, didn’t even know his name or one single thing about his save his physical appearance and the car he drove, but for all it strangeness, it was the truth.

Encompassed in thought, silence descended upon them and for a long time, Rachel said nothing. Instead she watched him, as though searching for a clue, something, anything to explain why he had stayed. Perhaps he was just a nice guy and genuinely meant what he had said before, about dangerous things lurking in the night. Perhaps he wanted to make sure she was safe. And yet – the intensity of his gaze lead her to believe otherwise. She shook her head, her dark mane of hair briefly curtaining her face before she pushed it away carelessly. That was something she knew better than to consider, especially now. Pushing the thought to the side, Rachel took several steps towards him, closing the space she had purposely created. The space had allowed her to breathe fresh air again but with every step, the dizzying smell she had been trying to escape, his smell, invaded her nostrils. She breathed deeply, savouring it. “You’re still here.” She finally agreed, as though saying it contributed to the reality of the situation, solidifying it in her mind. She had several questions she wanted to ask him with – why are you still here, featuring at the forefront of her attack – but for some reason, when she opened her mouth, intending to bring peace to her inquisitive mind, something else slipped out first. “What’s your name? For all the information she had rained upon him, unprovoked information though it may have been, she did not even know his name. To Rachel, he was still the kind, handsome stranger that had pulled over to help her and despite her insane ramblings, had not been driven away. And although she was equally as fond of that title, it was quite a mouthful and it would be nice to put a name to a face.

Blue eyes upon him, Rachel amused herself by considering the possibilities. He looked like a Dante, a Damien, a James. Something boyish but with a hint of masculinity. Perhaps something classic like Christopher or Benjamin, something his nearest and dearest could shorten affectionately. Rachel stopped herself there, not allowing herself to even think that one day, she too might be permitted to do the same.

[CONNOR YORK]

It was the confirmation in her statement that puzzled Connor, like she could not believe that he had stayed. “You’re still here.” But then, he knew she probably didn't expect for him to stay. Rather, no doubt she expected him to leave when he had the chance, though he couldn't understand what would lead her into thinking this, especially since he had shown no prior interest in leaving her. It didn't occur to him until just then that maybe it was a bit strange for him to stay, despite the kindness in his offer to remain with her until help arrived. Suspecting he seemed more like a predator (in the sense that he was a potential stalker, of course) to her, he prepared himself to make up an excuse for this, perhaps by backing up the whole idea of wanting to keep her safe while she was alone. However, it was hard for him to think properly with her sudden closeness, mind becoming a bit hazy as several thoughts stirred within it, thoughts that this was strange, the feeling, the different way in which his body and mind reacted when he was near the girl. It pulled him under, how unorthodox this was to him, and the only thing that pushed him back was the question that came soon after Rachel spoke just moments before.

His name? Getting a hold of his mind again, putting it back in the right place, where it belonged, he found himself smirking still, even more so at the inquisition. Finally, he thought. It was about time she asked that, or else she might have to call him by some strange, incorrect title forever (but who was to say that they would meet again after this? The assumption was somewhat mystifying to him). "Connor," he said simply, the name rolling off his tongue easily. "Connor York." He wondered what she would think of his name, or if she would think anything of it at all, if she would store the information away in some useless folder within her mind or keep it somewhere more important. But Rachel, that name was etched into Connor's mind. It was fitting, too, and he couldn't imagine calling her anything else. "Rachel." He drew in a large breath after softly murmuring the name to himself. "I think I like your name better than mine."

He wondered how much longer it would be before Rachel's friend made an appearance, if he or she would be there shortly or take more time to arrive. He couldn't hope but wish that the latter would be true, that he would have more time to speak with Rachel alone, to get farther inside her mind and try to unravel the mystery of what she was. Also, he pondered on the subject of whether or not others of his coven were curious as to where he was now, since he had left them at the club quite some time ago and hadn't even made an attempt to contact them. Of course, when he returned to them they would have some questions waiting for him, and even a couple might have an idea of where he had been all along. Though he was not exactly a genius, he was smart enough to detect whether or not another vampire was around, especially one he knew personally, so at least he knew there weren't any of them spying on him. Although, he knew a few of them would absolutely love to have knowledge of this, if nothing than to tease him mercilessly about it.

Nothing to joke about, though. Not right now. He could see so many things in Rachel, so many different attributes that blended together in a lovely way, giving her the personality that she loved and by which he was enticed and bound here, and to which he was attracted, to say the very least. He chewed on his bottom lip a little, calm yet unnerved just slightly for a reason he could not identify, and his chest rose and fell with deep, fake breaths that he did not need, the actions just a bit slower than it should be for a normal human. There were so many things that he had learned to do in the past few years, breathing being just one of them. Obviously, he remembered this from his past life, but learning how to do this own his own accord was a bit more difficult. When it came to things such as food, he didn't bother with it, though he had remained fond of some of the drinks he used to love. Human foods held no interest for him, though, while humans themselves did.

He was just thankful this particular human in front of him wasn't an appealing choice of meal, the fact that she should be masked only by the scent of a thing she was not. If he killed her now, it would be the only death for which he had ever felt even an ounce of remorse, and coming to this realization was slightly more astonishing than he'd first thought.

[RACHEL BLACK]

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Rachel believed in karma, she believed in love and regrettably, she also believed the best in people, even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it. And although she believed in science and fact, the laws of physics, and the whole ‘seeing in believing’ idea, she dared to be so bold as to believe in fate too. She liked to think that things happened for a reason; that the world would eventually right itself, that the bad would be punished and the good rewarded, and she liked to toy with the idea that things weren’t always coincidence and chance – they were destiny. Still, she liked to think there was a little wriggle room, that everyone had not one path to follow, but several, each leading to a different outcome. Rachel liked to believe in free will, that people were faced with decisions in their lives, obstacles, and the way they chose to proceed, their response, was not scripted out for them but entirely of their own choosing. She liked to think that although there may have been a God, he wasn’t so much a puppet master but a member of the audience, waiting eagerly to see how the show that was the lives of his greatest creation, their lives, played out.

The idea that this meeting was not entirely a coincidence had crossed Rachel’s mind. That she had not just overlooked refuelling the car, an error resulting in its breakdown, by chance, and that this meeting between herself and this young man – Connor York – was not entirely accidental. That this brief colliding of their worlds was perhaps so much more than just happenstance; a simple momentary alignment of two people’s agenda that resulted in them being in the same place, at the same time. Still, considering her luck lately and her behaviour, Rachel was waiting for the punch line. She hadn’t exactly been a good girl lately – hell she was a home wrecker, an adulterer and a thief! – and hence, didn’t really deserve the undivided attention of some beautiful man. There had to be a catch. “Well then, Connor, Connor York. If I had to have my car break down at this time of the night, on this isolated stretch of road, and I had to meet someone as a result of it, I’m glad it was you.” Rach said, his name doing laps around her head. Just like his face, his beautifully sculpted face, and his smell that made her head spin, she doubted she would forget his name anytime soon. Connor. Simple and boyish, just like she had imagined. "I think I like your name better than mine." “That’s too bad because I don’t think it’d suite you.” She laughed, surprised at how easy it was. She had not thought it would be so easy, hadn’t been able to imagine laughing when on the inside she felt…wrong, dark and twisted and incomplete. But it was easy. In fact, this entire ordeal, the talking, the laughing, it was all easy. Rachel blamed the way he was looking at her, that and the fresh air.

Returning to lean back against the side of the car, Rachel traced her fingertips over the top of the door frame and watched him. It felt not entirely right to ask direct questions, to pry into his life and scrounge up personal details she was not really entitled to know. If Connor wanted to share, he would share, and so far he had kept most things to himself. Hell, she had only just managed to coax his name out of him. That wasn’t exactly an encouraging thought, not exactly an invitation for further delving. Still, they had time. At least another ten minutes or so before Leah made an appearance and so far talking had helped pass the time, even if it had been her doing all of it. So really it was his turn right? That seemed only logical. “So, if you’re not unofficial roadside patrol, what is it exactly that you do?” She said finally. It was a basic question, something general that people discussed on an everyday basis and yet, he could lie. It did occur to Rachel that while she had been completely and utterly honest, a little too honest for her liking, that he could do her the injustice of keeping the truth close to his chest and instead feed her falsehoods. Heck, if she was in his position and had had the misfortune of stumbling across some seemingly insane person, she might have even done the same. Played it safe, protected herself a little more.

Turning towards him, she watched and waited, her blue eyes patrolling over him expectantly, intensely. Connor was really quite lucky. If Rachel had had her way she would have ambushed him with a stream of questions, some no doubt breaching on inappropriate for a first time meeting. But she couldn’t help it. Inquisitive by nature, her curiosity had increased tenfold when it concerned this seemingly perfect individual. He intrigued her unlike any other, and he hadn’t even had to say anything to captivate her attention. It was all in the way he moved, all in the way he looked at her. He was so perfect, so fascinating, so unlike anyone else she had ever met. She was mesmerised from the first moment and as a result, could not imagine how she was going to get back into her car when Leah finally arrived, and leave him.

“There’s something about you. I can’t quite put my finger on it but…you’re different, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just you intrigue me and…I can’t stop looking at you. I can’t bear to stop looking at you and considering everything I’ve just been through, that’s just so…so very wrong.” Rachel shook her head. She’d done it again, spoken without thinking, but this time there was no embarrassment, only a silent question in her eyes when she raised them to meet his again. Where have you been all this time?