A/N: So sorry for making you wait this long for another update. Real life’s been crazy. I’m preparing for my final exams in May, after which I’m finally a real teacher! But a reviewer kindly asked me to update and I finally made myself find some time to write. And here it is! I hope you’ll like it! Curls SPOV March 10, 2032
The poet in me would probably say that I noticed her the moment she entered the club, that my eyes were immediately drawn to her, just as she was drawn to me. That my still heart would start to beat again, when our eyes met for the first time. But as it was, I first took notice of her, when the reason why I was in the club in the first place began to pay attention to her. Still, the moment I laid my eyes on her, I wondered how I could have missed her before.
She had long, bronze-colored curls, going down to the middle of her back and her skin was pale, almost as pale as my own, and smooth with only a few freckles around her nose. All of this made it obvious to everyone in the club that she wasn’t a native of Rio de Janeiro or Brazil in general. But this was where the differences ended, as she could move just like the best of Rio’s dancers on the dance floor. This, along with her outfit – a golden halter-neck, only tied together on her back with a thin strap, a very short golden skirt and golden high-heels – caught a lot of attention of the males in the club.
My prey and I were no exception, as her outfit left little to imagination.
It was easy to see how toned her body was, used to working out, without being too muscular. She was slim, with just the right curves in all the right places. And she apparently knew how to use her body very well.
In a way, she reminded me a lot of the Slayers I knew.
Over the course of the next minutes I continued to watch her. It was impossible to look away. She was absolutely mesmerizing.
And completely forbidden.
The low growl that erupted from my chest, when one of the boys on the dance floor dared to touch her, surprised even me. I had to resist the urge to enter the dance floor myself and rip the boy’s hands off. It was hard not to give in to this urge, almost impossibly hard, but my torture was ended, when she suddenly left the dance floor and walked over to the bar. Without even realizing it, I followed her and sat down on the stool next to her, just as she ordered a drink in flawless Portuguese.
“It’s on me. And I’d like a beer,” I told the bartender, in just as perfect Portuguese, just as she wanted to take some money out of her purse – inside I saw her ID, telling me that her name was Vanessa Wolfe, twenty-two years old, and that she was a citizen of the good old US of A.
Slightly surprised, she turned towards me. Her movement caused her scent to reach me for the first time that night, finding its way to me through the smell of sweat and other unappetizing odors. She smelled of strawberries with a hint of freesia and sunshine. Absolutely mouthwatering. Having to swallow, I took a split second to compose myself, before I took a good look at her face. My eyes met hers and suddenly the world stood still. And it was true, the moment my golden eyes met her deep, brown and soulful ones, it felt as if my heart could suddenly beat again. I fell in love with them immediately. Her delicious scent was completely pushed to the back of my mind.
“Obrigada,” she said to me with a crooked grin.
“You’re welcome, luv,” I told her in English this time, though she didn’t seem to be surprised by this, and I flashed her my famous smirk. At that moment, the bartender handed me my drink and I paid for her cocktail and my beer. Raising my glass to hers, I said, “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink, while I just pretended to take one of mine. It was too bad, really, that food now only tasted like dirt. I really missed my onion rings. And the booze.
“So, Curls, what brings you to good ol’ Rio? Business or pleasure?”
She raised her eyebrows at me, probably at the use of the nickname that just slipped past my lips. I didn’t know why I called her that, as I had used this nickname only once many years ago on a small toddler. “My name’s Ness,” she told me coolly, “and believe it or not, I’m here strictly for business.”
This time, it was me who raised his eyebrows. “Business, really? Looked a lot like pleasure to me.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving, Blondie Bear.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Loudly. There was only one person, who had ever called me this, and she couldn’t be more different to the girl sitting next to me.
“I guess I deserved that,” I finally said, once I had managed to get my laughter under control. People had already started to give us strange looks. “I’m William, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, William,” the bronze-haired girl said, extending her right hand towards me.
Hesitating for a moment, as I was always a bit anxious about how people would react to my cold and hard skin, I rubbed the hand on my dark jeans. Maybe she would think that they were sweaty, but instead I tried to create some warmth through the friction. Finally, knowing that I couldn’t delay any longer, I carefully took her hand. “The pleasure is mine, Ness.”
If she was bothered by my cold hand, she didn’t show it. And if she noticed the same electrical current run through her fingers as I did, she didn’t show it either. And bloody hell, I wanted her to feel that current. I’d never felt anything this amazing before, not even with…
“So, you’re from England?” Ness asked, tearing me out of my thoughts. She was again drinking from her cocktail, looking at me with interest in her eyes.
“Born and raised,” I told her. “But I moved around a lot, when I was old enough to do so.”
“Really? Where’ve you been to?”
“China, Germany, the States… Brazil,” I added with a grin.
“That’s a lot of places… I’ve travelled a bit myself, but mostly in Europe and the USA. My grandpa is actually from England.”
“Always on business, I assume?” I asked her with a teasing grin.
“Mostly. I was born in the USA and grew up there, but I went to university in England. After I got my degree, I decided to do some work and travel. And now, here I am.”
“And what exactly is it you do?”
“Me?” she asked, winking at me. “Don’t you want to know? And now, please excuse me, business is calling.”
She downed the last of her cocktail, clutched her purse and got up. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and left me at the bar. I couldn’t believe that she was just leaving like this, in the middle of our conversation. But then I saw where she was going, or better what she was doing. The guy I had followed into this club, the reason why I had even met her, was now leaving the club with a Latina on his arms. And Ness was following them. Bloody hell!
Ignoring the startled shouts of the people I shoved aside, I hurried after them. I wanted to go faster, much faster, but there were too many people here, too many witnesses.
Finally, after too many precious seconds had passed, I made it to the exit and could already hear the muffled scream from the back alley next to the club. Knowing that I now had no time to lose, I began to run, going faster than I should in such a populated area, with the carnival going on all around me.
But when I got there, I stopped dead in my tracks. The Latina was cowering at one wall, crying, but Ness was fighting that guy. And they were equal! No, she was better. Much better. She was… strong. She was dancing… Like a….
“Slayer…” the vampire hissed in heavily accented English.
“Sorry,” Ness quipped, ramming a stake into his chest. “Got the wrong girl.”
And then, the vampire I had been stalking almost the whole night exploded into a cloud of dust.
“Stop gawking, Spike,” Ness said grinning, as she walked past me. “I don’t think mosquitoes have enough blood in them to quench your thirst.”
This tore me out of my thoughts. “Wait… how do you know who I am?”
“Puh-lease,” she said, still grinning. “Who doesn’t
know you at the Council, or at least of you? Besides, the hair gave it away.”
Running my hand through my still platinum blond hair, I sighed almost inaudibly. When Carlisle had changed me, no one had thought that I’d be stuck forever with this hair color, seeing as my hair didn’t grow any more. I was only slowly getting used to this thought. “So, you’re a Slayer?”
Rolling her eyes, Ness replied, “Haven’t you been listening? I’m no Slayer. I’m just a demon hunter. But my mother is one. I believe you know her,” she then added with a smirk. “My mom’s Bella Cullen.”
“Bella…?” I asked incredulously, and then I laughed as I realized that the beautiful woman in front of me was the same little girl I had met once twenty-one years ago. A short time before Bella had been forced to be changed. “I can’t believe that you are little Nessie Cullen, all grown up. How are Bella and Edward? I haven’t heard from your mom in ages.”
“They’re good,” Ness told me, but then grimaced slightly. “But please, don’t call me Nessie. Ness is much better. Besides, Ness fits with my alias here.”
“Yeah. Dawn invented this alias for me. Mom and dad don’t know that I’m hunting demons, they believe I’m really just travelling and doing odd jobs, so please don’t tell them. My dad’s so overprotective. He would come and get me the moment he finds out what I’m really doing.”
“Don’t worry, Curls, I won’t tell them a thing,” I promised her. “So, what now?”
“Now we’re going back inside. Slaying always makes me hungry.”
“Not horny?” I asked her, wriggling my eyebrows suggestively, as I remembered how Faith always claimed that Slaying usually made all Slayers hungry and horny.”
“You’re a pig, Spike.”
“And you’re not the first one to tell—“ I was cut off, when I suddenly felt her warm lips on mine. My senses went into overdrive, as they were overwhelmed by her scent, by her warmth, by her touch. The same current I had already felt in my fingers, when I had touched her hand, was now tingling on my lips. But much to my dismay, she pulled away as suddenly as she had kissed me, leaving me breathless. “Do you always kiss strange vampires?” I asked hoarsely.
“No,” she shook her head, grinning, though there was a slightly dazed look on her face. “Only annoying ones, who give me annoying nicknames.”
“Then maybe I should keep calling you ‘Curls’.”
“Watch it, Blondie Bear. And now, let’s go back inside. I’m starving.” She threw me one more smirk, before she turned on her heel and left the alley.
“As you wish… Curls,” I said with a smirk and followed her back inside.