Dawn gave him a look. “If I say yes, you could be making me say that and if I say no, same thing,” she said. “That’s why I asked.”
“And you are only a delivery girl?” Directing her down a hallway with a nod, the Graf’s eyes never seemed to leave her face, which made her feel kind of squirmy but not in a totally bad way. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“Just a regular girl. Not a slayer or witch or superhero,” Dawn replied airily, looking around at the paintings lining the walls. “No biggie.”
“I remain unconvinced,” Von Krolock’s voice sounded like a purr, rolling over her senses and sending a tingle racing down her spine. No! Bad Dawnie! No messing about with the clients! Rule two! And undead clients at that! Rule one!
Deliberately eyeing the paintings to avoid looking back into those dark eyes, Dawn cleared her throat. “So... uh... you’re Mister von Krolock, right?”
“That is correct,” he agreed softly.
“The only one?” She looked around at him, and promptly lost the mental path she had been aiming for. “Uh... I... uh... I mean, you don’t have brothers or anything like that? Any other ones with that name?”
Von Krolock laughed softly. “Unless you speak of my son,” he murmured, “I am, indeed, the only one.”
“Huh.” Reaching into her coat pocket, Dawn pulled out the letter she had received, a little crumpled and bent, but still legible. “So, is this your notepaper, then?”
For a moment, the man - vampire, Dawn, vampire - went still, staring at the sheet, then looked at her, as if seeing her with new eyes. “It is,” he said, leading her onwards down the hall. “May I know where you found it?”
“Didn’t find it,” Dawn replied evenly, watching him now as intently as he had watched her. “It was sent to me. Not the Watchers Council. Me. From here.”
“Indeed,” von Krolock said quietly, pausing by a pair of double-doors. He loosed his arm from hers, his eyes on her face again, focussed, but not staring, definitely not staring.
Unsettled but unwilling to show it, Dawn lifted her chin and gazed right back at him.
“Indeed,” he repeated thoughtfully. Turning away from her, he laid his hands against the broad handles, gazing down at them. “Who do you think might have sent a missive to you?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Dawn replied.
Von Krolock raised his head, but didn’t look around. “Perhaps,” he murmured, then pushed the doors open and stepped into the biggest living room Dawn had ever seen in her life.
Following him, unconsciously reaching down to touch the cross at her throat, she saw two other figures already in the room, one of whom was sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace, reading. The other was draped in a chair, also bearing a book, but his was not opened.
“Herbert, William,” von Krolock’s murmur was unnecessary, she noticed. As soon as she had stepped into the room, both of them had shifted, a subtle indication that they were both aware of a mortal in the vicinity. “We have a guest.”
The vampire that was lying on the floor seemed to go rigid and she saw its head turn sharply, silhouetted against the fire for a moment, shaggy hair falling around its face. A male, she decided. Not too big. She could take it down easily.
“Bloody hell!”
Or not.
On his feet, the vampire was staring at her as wildly as she was staring at him.
“Spike...?”
“Holy shit! Nibbles!”
In the thirty seconds that followed, she wasn’t sure which of them moved first or which of them moved fastest, only that they crashed into each other hard enough to knock the wind out of her and to tip them both onto the floor.
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Date: 2006-03-16 03:17 pm (UTC)“And you are only a delivery girl?” Directing her down a hallway with a nod, the Graf’s eyes never seemed to leave her face, which made her feel kind of squirmy but not in a totally bad way. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“Just a regular girl. Not a slayer or witch or superhero,” Dawn replied airily, looking around at the paintings lining the walls. “No biggie.”
“I remain unconvinced,” Von Krolock’s voice sounded like a purr, rolling over her senses and sending a tingle racing down her spine. No! Bad Dawnie! No messing about with the clients! Rule two! And undead clients at that! Rule one!
Deliberately eyeing the paintings to avoid looking back into those dark eyes, Dawn cleared her throat. “So... uh... you’re Mister von Krolock, right?”
“That is correct,” he agreed softly.
“The only one?” She looked around at him, and promptly lost the mental path she had been aiming for. “Uh... I... uh... I mean, you don’t have brothers or anything like that? Any other ones with that name?”
Von Krolock laughed softly. “Unless you speak of my son,” he murmured, “I am, indeed, the only one.”
“Huh.” Reaching into her coat pocket, Dawn pulled out the letter she had received, a little crumpled and bent, but still legible. “So, is this your notepaper, then?”
For a moment, the man - vampire, Dawn, vampire - went still, staring at the sheet, then looked at her, as if seeing her with new eyes. “It is,” he said, leading her onwards down the hall. “May I know where you found it?”
“Didn’t find it,” Dawn replied evenly, watching him now as intently as he had watched her. “It was sent to me. Not the Watchers Council. Me. From here.”
“Indeed,” von Krolock said quietly, pausing by a pair of double-doors. He loosed his arm from hers, his eyes on her face again, focussed, but not staring, definitely not staring.
Unsettled but unwilling to show it, Dawn lifted her chin and gazed right back at him.
“Indeed,” he repeated thoughtfully. Turning away from her, he laid his hands against the broad handles, gazing down at them. “Who do you think might have sent a missive to you?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Dawn replied.
Von Krolock raised his head, but didn’t look around. “Perhaps,” he murmured, then pushed the doors open and stepped into the biggest living room Dawn had ever seen in her life.
Following him, unconsciously reaching down to touch the cross at her throat, she saw two other figures already in the room, one of whom was sprawled on the floor in front of the fireplace, reading. The other was draped in a chair, also bearing a book, but his was not opened.
“Herbert, William,” von Krolock’s murmur was unnecessary, she noticed. As soon as she had stepped into the room, both of them had shifted, a subtle indication that they were both aware of a mortal in the vicinity. “We have a guest.”
The vampire that was lying on the floor seemed to go rigid and she saw its head turn sharply, silhouetted against the fire for a moment, shaggy hair falling around its face. A male, she decided. Not too big. She could take it down easily.
“Bloody hell!”
Or not.
On his feet, the vampire was staring at her as wildly as she was staring at him.
“Spike...?”
“Holy shit! Nibbles!”
In the thirty seconds that followed, she wasn’t sure which of them moved first or which of them moved fastest, only that they crashed into each other hard enough to knock the wind out of her and to tip them both onto the floor.