Selene LeBeau has a minion!

Blood is the Vampire Matter

The snow was blinding, especially for one accustomed to the warmer winters of New Orleans, but that was her cross to bare. Besides, the cold flakes didn't impede her vision enough to hide the mousey young man from her.

Silently Selene followed him out of the bar, a small man with dark brown hair and eyes hidden behind glasses, dressed simply enough in a suit and black woolen coat. Easy pickings for the hungry vampire. Slowly she began to close the gap between them, her tongue flickering over her lips, a block, 100 yards, 50, 30 feet. She could smell the brandy from his puffs of breath as they passed an alley, lunging to drag him inside it, only to receive a shock, quiet literally as the taser pressed into her unyielding pale flesh.

“Son of a –,” Selene shrieked as Charles let loose another violent jolt of electricity. These shocks could do her no permanent harm, or real damage at all, but the nerve of the mortal to attack back amazed her.

“Are you going to keep your teeth to yourself?” He knew what she was!

“Oui,” she conceded, rubbing the spot.

“Good,” the mortal nodded, tucking the weapon back inside his coat pocket. “Now, if you're that hungry, I believe there's a small pack of Latin Kings members in the alley a few blocks from here.”

“Why tell me this?” Selene's gold eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

“Firstly, to avoid your teeth madam,” the young lawyer smirked. “Secondly because I know you.” Seeing the confusion, Charles smiled some, “Not personally, but I was in San Francisco, saw the concert. You are older, but I have no doubt you are the secondary guitarist for The Vampire Lestat. The immortal child, Selene LeBeau. Go now mademoiselle, take your fill of the Kings, and then, if you wish, you can find me at the Four Seasons.”

With that the pair parted ways, he to his rooms to work and she to the five young thugs, evil enough to ease her Thirst.

The hotel room was modest, all things considered. Landing silently on the balcony, Selene gazed at this brazen mortal who looked more like one of her Father's lawyers than one of their fans.

Finally he took notice of her outside, her red top and black pants and hair standing out against the stark white snow. Opening the door Charles bowed slightly in respect as she entered.

“Just why shouldn't I kill you here and now?” Selene asked pointedly upon taking a seat on the single queen sized bed.

“I'm no where near evil enough for your standards,” the mortal stated, having drawn the chair from the desk to sit and face this specter of death head on. “Then there is the matter of your money, the property you should have inherited upon your sire's demise.”

A flinch and hiss came from the immortal at the thought of her lost family.

“All a matter of public record,” Charles stated patiently, “and all kept from you by a lack of proper paperwork, paperwork I can get for you.”

“How?” Selene demanded. “There is no record of Father's death, but that which is written in my heart. As for my papers, if you are so wise, you know I was born before such nonsense.”

“This is true enough,” the young lawyer nodded, “but there are always ways around these things.”

“And you should do this on my behalf why?” Suspicion in her voice. “Why should a mortal such as yourself care about a demon such as I?”

“Those who remade you from a shattered child, they care and so I care. Besides, we may be of help to one another one day,” there was something dark in his eyes, something almost feral.

“You know of them?” she asked in a low hiss, all pretense gone.

“I do,” Charles practically purred. “Now, I'll need a few days to procure the documents you need before we can get your money. Come back in a week and all should be in place.”

“You know what I'll do if you fail, oui?” there was a glimmer in her eyes as her fangs caught the light. A crack of electricity was Charles' only reply.

A week passed in a blur and soon enough the brunette heard the tapping on his balcony door. Selene was flushed from the kill as she stepped inside.

“Well?” her voice calm, “My papers? My money?”

“As promised,” the young lawyer slid an envelope towards the vampire. “Birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, debit card and checks. There is also a thousand in cash to get you started.”

Silently Selene stared at the packet, finally asking, “The house?”

“That will take a little longer, but in due time,” Charles stated softly. “Until then the world is your playground. There is also this,” he slid a cell to her. “My number is already programmed in.”

After a few moments the vampire took the device, examined it and slid it into her pocket. Counting the money out Selene slid half to him along with a blank check. “This is sufficient to place you on retainer, oui?”

“Indeed,” Charles smiled, extending a hand. With a shake, the deal was sealed. “I will call once your property is back in your name. Don't worry, I have your number as well.”

Nodding gently, Selene sighed contently. “I think I'd like to visit Paris. You can find me there if you are unable to reach me by the phone.” She paused in thought before her face grew softer and she whispered, “Merci M. Offdensen. I look forward to seeing you in the future.” With that the vampire vanished from the room.

A year passed, then two before he called, the property was hers and waiting. Still Selene stayed in Pari at her father's old tower.

It was at the tower she was still staying a decade later, playing the keyboard in a small bar when she caught sight of her mousy lawyer surrounded by five grown men-children.

Through the smoke their eyes met and with a silent voice they agreed to meet, slipping into an alley, only this time there was no hunt and certainly no taser.

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