The Wolf and the Unicorn

One of the things he'd never get used to, Beckett mused, even after centuries of Unlife, was waking up wholly alert. He'd never been a morning person, and it usually took several cups of tea to fortify himself against the day. But since his Embrace, he'd risen every evening fully and completely awake.





Where the Hell am I? he thought for a moment, disoriented; then the events of the previous night came back to him all at once. The catacombs...the Ba'ali...Antigone.





Antigone. He rolled over and she was there beside him, still deep in slumber, her golden curls tumbling over her face and her lips slightly parted. He felt a strong urge to lean over and kiss her, and wondered at that for a moment before remembering that they'd drank from one another. Of course; the Blood did that. One drink was nothing to worry over; two, possibly. Three would never happen. Might as well make the most of the situation, he thought with a grin, and leaned over to brush his lips across hers. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw him, and she returned his kiss with a shy sweetness that made his long-silent heart ache with desire. He pulled her closer, brushing aside the hair from her face and letting the long golden strands slide through his fingers.





She reached for him as well, one hand stroking his cheek; he leaned into it and then turned his head to kiss her palm. He trailed kisses from there up along the inside of her wrist and forearm with deliberate slowness, drawing each one out to savor the intensity of the moment and the sweetness of her skin. Beckett ached to taste her again, but knew better than to give in to that desire. If this is what one drink can do, I can't imagine what a second would be like, he thought, his mind clouded over with sensation as his lips left her arm and moved to her throat. The scent of her blood so close to the surface there was intoxicating, and it took all the self-control he could muster not to sink his fangs into her pale flesh and drink deeply from her.





Antigone gave a low sigh of pleasure and gently turned so she could kiss him. Their lips met hungrily and this time there was no shyness in her attentions. He parted her lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss, reveling in the soft moan in the back of her throat and the way she pressed her body against his, her form molding to his own.





He could have kissed her for hours, but for the rising hunger within them both. They'd both lost blood the night before, and the sustenance provided by the blood bags had long since faded. Reluctantly, he broke away and sat up. "We both need to feed tonight," he said. "You especially, after all the blood you must have used healing us both."





She nodded in agreement. "I suppose we should just plan on meeting back here in a few hours." She might enjoy his kisses, but like every Kindred she was a solitary hunter.





Beckett concurred. "Leave the window unlocked so I can get back in if I return before you do," he said. "Hmm, it seems I'll have to find myself some new clothes while I'm out. Your Ba'ali friends quite effectively destroyed the ones I'd been wearing last night." He looked ruefully at the ruined jeans he still wore.





"I'd loan you a t-shirt, but I doubt mine would fit you," she laughed.





"Going outside shirtless in the middle of November is going to attract some attention, don't you agree?" he smirked. "I guess there's only one thing to do about that." He focused his mind inward and his form shimmered, air and space bending around him, until there was no longer a man but a golden-eyed wolf with white fur sitting on the bed grinning at Antigone.





"That is a trick I would give much to learn," she said, eyebrows raised.





Beckett shifted back to his human form and leaned in to kiss her once more. "I'll see what I can do about teaching you, if you'd like. Now if you'll get the door behind me, I'll be off." He donned his boots and jacket and walked back through the living room to the front door. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I'll be back." He smiled at her and pulled her close for one last kiss.





Once outside, he slipped into the shadows; a white wolf left them moments later, loping along the silent streets of the Upper East Side towards the nearby darkness of Central Park





***





Using one of the powers of her Blood, Antigone extended her awareness outward, looking for telltale signs of a mortal in distress. In a city like Manhattan, she never had trouble locating someone who needed healing of one sort or another, and true to her expectations, almost immediately picked up a source of emotional distress a few blocks away.





She moved silently through the night, following her senses to a brownstone and scaling the fire escape to the third floor. The window was open slightly, and she could hear muffled sobs from the woman inside. She extended her senses further, and found the cause. Soundlessly, she edged the window up until she was able to slip inside, and in a moment she knelt beside the bed where the woman lay weeping. Pushing her senses just a bit further, she found her name.





"Joan," she whispered, reaching to stroke the woman's hair.





Startled, the mortal woman gasped and turned to look at her. "Oh my God! How did you get in here..."





"Shh. You have nothing to fear, Joan. I am here to help you."





"I'll call the police!" Her voice rose in panic.





Using her Blood's gifts further, Antigone projected an aura of peace and trust; the effect was immediate.





"The doctors told you there was nothing they could do for you, didn't they?" Antigone stroked the woman's hair again.





Sobbing, Joan McMenamin nodded, tears streaming down her face. "It's cancer...my liver. I have less than six months to live."





"But you prayed for a cure, didn't you? For a miracle?"





Joan nodded again.





Antigone smiled. "Your prayers have been heard. I've brought you your miracle." She leaned forward and kissed Joan's forehead.





"You...you're an angel!" The look on the woman's face was rapturous.



Neglecting to answer the question at hand is not lying, she told herself, and instead asked, "Do you believe in angels?" At Joan's nod, she smiled. "Then close your eyes." She nipped her fingertip and a drop of dark blood formed there; her third eye opened and bathed the room in a golden glow. "Now open your mouth." She placed the drop of blood on the woman's tongue. "When next you see the doctor, there will be no trace of the cancer." The Salubri took Joan's hand and raised it to her mouth, her fangs slipping beneath the skin and into the veins. For a count of thirty, she drank, and then licked the wound closed. Joan's expression was beatific. "Go to sleep, dearest, and dream only happy dreams." Obediently, Joan lay down and was fast asleep before Antigone exited via the same window she'd entered.





Blessed are those who give when they receive, she thought with a smile as she moved silently through the night in search of someone else who needed a miracle.