Thomas Raith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emptynight) wrote2009-12-15 08:04 pm
emptynight) wrote2009-12-15 08:04 pm
Entry tags:
Time to dance...
Even after a demonstration of Alice’s considerable talents at distraction and his own extensive ability to avoid uncomfortable knowledge, the matter of just what had happened to Edward (as well as the uncomfortably large number of questions regarding his father’s sudden appearance) pushed their way back to the front of Thomas’ mind. The house was still quiet with the sun so high above, but the omnipresent white noise of emotions seemed an irritant when his head was already so full.
So on came the boxers and the jeans, the Desert Eagle tucked at the back of his pants and a handful of items went into his pocket. Thomas turned for the door, then thought better of it and threw on an unbuttoned shirt to cover up the grip of the gun. With the familiar weights of the gun at his back and his mother’s amulet at his neck, Thomas headed out of his room, down the stairs, and out the garage.
*****
Without concern for the crew members, which by now were used to his driving and did their best to keep up accordingly, Thomas kick started the silver motorcycle and roared his solitary way down the road, heading for a familiar stretch of beach. The road this time took him through a pine-scented curve, the same one where he’d taken Drusilla a few nights ago, then down a curving hillside. By the time the scent of salt air hit him, the drive had managed to quiet his mind and there was a calm determination in his bearing. The crew’s conspicuous unmarked white van followed but Thomas paid them little thought as he pulled into a turn-off and killed the engine.
For some reason, this stretch of beach rarely got more than an occasional visitor, at least whenever Thomas came. Today was no exception. Despite the cloudless sky and bright sun, the only person he could see (aside from his camera crew) was a surfer some ways out in the water. His mind on more pressing things than the Amazing Empty Beach, Thomas made for the jetty, picking his way across the haphazard tumble of wet rocks before he found a place to sit. He simply sat there for a while, listening to the crash of waves, the occasional cry of a pelican. The scent of salt and spray filled his awareness with memories and calm, and he pulled two things out of his pocket: his phone (with its ridiculous stickers), and a business card.
Thomas stared at the two objects in his hand, the faintest hint of uncertainty flickering over his face, before he took a deep breath and punched in the number.
*****
The phone rang twice before a voice answered, but it didn’t come out of his cell phone’s speaker.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Raith. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about our offer.” The voice was still professional but friendly. The sort of voice you expected from the particularly helpful bank teller, not a demon lawyer. It was also a few feet behind him.
Thomas managed to catch himself in time, to stop the immediate jump to his feet in surprise. Instead, he stood with easy grace, his expression schooled to polite neutrality, as if he had expected the woman to appear in the flesh. Storm grey eyes took her in; her hair looked darker, deeper red in the sunlight, but she was still carefully slim, dressed in a crisp navy blazer and matching skirt, with hints of a cream silk blouse beneath. His voice held the same careful neutrality as his expression. “Evangeline. I wasn’t expecting a house call.”
“I prefer taking all my business calls in the flesh. I believe we have that in common,” she answered with a smile. She turned and waved a little at the cameras some distance back. “I hope you don’t mind my presumption, but it is a live Internet feed.”
Meeting her in the flesh made it easier, and Thomas relaxed a miniscule amount. Unlike Vincent, who had been a curious, slimy void, Evangeline felt human, right down to the faint tinge of eagerness and amusement hiding under her professional demeanor. The eternally calculating part of him noted it: human, vulnerable to the Hunger. “I find myself less and less surprised by the fact that I can’t hide from your company. And the teenage girls.”
Evangeline laughed, and her green eyes seemed to dance with amusement. “We watch the show same as they do, Mr. Raith. But surely you didn’t come to talk about teenage girls. Is there something you’d like our assistance with? Perhaps this new situation created by Lord Raith?”
Thomas looked at her, pensive, wondering just how much the woman in front of him knew. “Not necessarily,” he answered calmly. “I was just hoping to see the face behind this business card that keeps popping up no matter how often I throw it out.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Evangeline said sympathetically. “I’ve gone over our records, and it seems that your encounters with our company have been less than pleasant.” Her eyes flashed, and Thomas felt a hint of some fleeting emotion. Disgust. Or maybe anger. “I apologize for the poor impression Vincent has left on you, Mr. Raith. The man wouldn’t understand subtlety if it fell on him.” That was completely sincere. “You have my word that you’ll be able to reach me at that phone number any time you wish to speak.” Her smile grew a little sharp, and Thomas recognized the expression on her face. Pride and dislike. There was something here he could use. Perhaps play Evangeline against the others. She was human, after all, gaining information could be done easily. “I hope I can change your opinion of our firm.”
The smile he returned was equally sharp, a touch predatory, and his voice was honeyed when he spoke, “A refreshing change of pace. I would like that very much, Evangeline.”
So on came the boxers and the jeans, the Desert Eagle tucked at the back of his pants and a handful of items went into his pocket. Thomas turned for the door, then thought better of it and threw on an unbuttoned shirt to cover up the grip of the gun. With the familiar weights of the gun at his back and his mother’s amulet at his neck, Thomas headed out of his room, down the stairs, and out the garage.
*****
Without concern for the crew members, which by now were used to his driving and did their best to keep up accordingly, Thomas kick started the silver motorcycle and roared his solitary way down the road, heading for a familiar stretch of beach. The road this time took him through a pine-scented curve, the same one where he’d taken Drusilla a few nights ago, then down a curving hillside. By the time the scent of salt air hit him, the drive had managed to quiet his mind and there was a calm determination in his bearing. The crew’s conspicuous unmarked white van followed but Thomas paid them little thought as he pulled into a turn-off and killed the engine.
For some reason, this stretch of beach rarely got more than an occasional visitor, at least whenever Thomas came. Today was no exception. Despite the cloudless sky and bright sun, the only person he could see (aside from his camera crew) was a surfer some ways out in the water. His mind on more pressing things than the Amazing Empty Beach, Thomas made for the jetty, picking his way across the haphazard tumble of wet rocks before he found a place to sit. He simply sat there for a while, listening to the crash of waves, the occasional cry of a pelican. The scent of salt and spray filled his awareness with memories and calm, and he pulled two things out of his pocket: his phone (with its ridiculous stickers), and a business card.
Thomas stared at the two objects in his hand, the faintest hint of uncertainty flickering over his face, before he took a deep breath and punched in the number.
*****
The phone rang twice before a voice answered, but it didn’t come out of his cell phone’s speaker.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Raith. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about our offer.” The voice was still professional but friendly. The sort of voice you expected from the particularly helpful bank teller, not a demon lawyer. It was also a few feet behind him.
Thomas managed to catch himself in time, to stop the immediate jump to his feet in surprise. Instead, he stood with easy grace, his expression schooled to polite neutrality, as if he had expected the woman to appear in the flesh. Storm grey eyes took her in; her hair looked darker, deeper red in the sunlight, but she was still carefully slim, dressed in a crisp navy blazer and matching skirt, with hints of a cream silk blouse beneath. His voice held the same careful neutrality as his expression. “Evangeline. I wasn’t expecting a house call.”
“I prefer taking all my business calls in the flesh. I believe we have that in common,” she answered with a smile. She turned and waved a little at the cameras some distance back. “I hope you don’t mind my presumption, but it is a live Internet feed.”
Meeting her in the flesh made it easier, and Thomas relaxed a miniscule amount. Unlike Vincent, who had been a curious, slimy void, Evangeline felt human, right down to the faint tinge of eagerness and amusement hiding under her professional demeanor. The eternally calculating part of him noted it: human, vulnerable to the Hunger. “I find myself less and less surprised by the fact that I can’t hide from your company. And the teenage girls.”
Evangeline laughed, and her green eyes seemed to dance with amusement. “We watch the show same as they do, Mr. Raith. But surely you didn’t come to talk about teenage girls. Is there something you’d like our assistance with? Perhaps this new situation created by Lord Raith?”
Thomas looked at her, pensive, wondering just how much the woman in front of him knew. “Not necessarily,” he answered calmly. “I was just hoping to see the face behind this business card that keeps popping up no matter how often I throw it out.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Evangeline said sympathetically. “I’ve gone over our records, and it seems that your encounters with our company have been less than pleasant.” Her eyes flashed, and Thomas felt a hint of some fleeting emotion. Disgust. Or maybe anger. “I apologize for the poor impression Vincent has left on you, Mr. Raith. The man wouldn’t understand subtlety if it fell on him.” That was completely sincere. “You have my word that you’ll be able to reach me at that phone number any time you wish to speak.” Her smile grew a little sharp, and Thomas recognized the expression on her face. Pride and dislike. There was something here he could use. Perhaps play Evangeline against the others. She was human, after all, gaining information could be done easily. “I hope I can change your opinion of our firm.”
The smile he returned was equally sharp, a touch predatory, and his voice was honeyed when he spoke, “A refreshing change of pace. I would like that very much, Evangeline.”