Back
The doorman at the Goodwin Hotel moved to open the heavy, mahogany door as soon as Evan exited the elevator and crossed the lobby. The Goodwin considered itself the premier example of luxury accommodation in Hartford which is exactly why Evan chose to stay there while work on his condo overlooking the river was being completed. Some modification to his sleeping habits had to be made and he was continually reminding the maid service to clean his room only during the third shift, but he could deal with the inconvenience considering some very specific requirements he gave the contractor. Experiences in New York City left him a bit jaded when it came to his personal safety and he felt strongly about not repeating past mistakes.
“What was the point of eternity if one didn’t learn,” was one of his sire’s first lessons.
When he originally arranged his stay at the Goodwin, he was told that the hotel was used to hosting a diverse clientele so when Evan caught a subtle look of disapproval from the concierge sitting behind the night desk over his choice of attire, jeans and an old blazer, it raised his hackles a bit. He didn’t care for the opinion of hired help considering what he was paying to stay in the JP Morgan suite. Evan made a mental note to leave a message for the general manager.
As he approached the door Evan stopped in the entryway, stood completely still, and closed his eyes. He let his senses take in everything they could absorb, every sound and smell, extending them as far as possible into the night.
Evan hadn’t been in Hartford for very long, but he had already discovered why Kindred came to the city and chose to stay here; Hartford was alive. Other cities could claim they never slept, but this was…different. Evan couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something was unique here. He was sure he wasn’t the only vampire to notice.
Evan had his own reasons for coming to Hartford, as did the other Kindred he had met since moving here. One tended not to pry into the particulars of why a Kindred would leave the sanctity of a domain with established resources, contacts and allies. It was considered uncouth. Asking questions about someone else’s past opened up the opportunity for someone to ask about your own. The exception to this rule was the Prince; however, as Hartford had no Prince, Evan could reasonably expect to avoid answering the uncomfortable question for the time being.
“Can I help you with something, sir?” the doorman asked with a slight waiver in his voice. Evan appeared to have not heard the question and continued to stand motionless for a few more moments, eventually sensing the doorman was beginning to get a little uncomfortable with the silence. He had that effect on people. Well, on living people at any rate.
He took in a deep breath and gave his companion the opportunity of relief from the tension.
“No, thank you, William, I’m quite content,” he whispered.
Evan slowly opened his eyes, wanting to stay in the moment as long as possible, and stepped out onto Asylum Street, into the masses. William let out an audible sigh over the relief from holding the door and the uncomfortable feelings Evan evoked.
The night air was cool for August. It had been in the high 90s, even after the sun set, for the better part of a week. A thunderstorm earlier in the day had rescued the kine from the oppressive heat and Evan could feel the weight of remaining humidity in the air.
As he walked down Asylum, Evan caught a glimpse of an old poster half ripped off the wall of one of the neighboring buildings still under renovation.
“Bodies Alive,” it announced.
Evan let one of the corners of his mouth hint at his amusement. The feeling didn’t last very long as his hunger began to refocus his attention on the task at hand. Being new to the domain, he still wasn’t sure about where it was safe to feed and hadn’t done so in several nights. Unable to hold out any longer, it was time to consider his feeding options for the evening.
An advertisement in The Hartford Courant indicated that, “ConnectiCon,” was at the convention center, a location which was rumored to be an open rack and within walking distance. He had always found the attendees at those types of gatherings to be easy feeding; perhaps not the most hygienic, but less suspicious of oddities.
His other options were the Bushnell Theatre, where the umpteenth tour of “Wicked,” was being performed; a good venue with a better quality of food if one was able to take the time necessary to spend hunting; or attempting to find a rave rumored to be going on in the north end, where the opportunity to get drug-du-jour laced Vitae almost outweighed the hassle of having to request permission to travel through someone else’s territory- even if he could remember who that was.
Evan simply didn’t have the options he would have liked like. His hunger didn’t allow him the luxury of being choosy. He headed towards the convention center.
A few blocks later, a white Lincoln pulled up to the curb. He could feel the predator taint welling up, never a good sign in the open like this. He wasn’t sure he could maintain control and wondered if running was going to be his best option.
The passenger door opened and a pair of ebony legs that seemed to go on for miles swung out of the opening and a woman stepped through door. Her dress matched the car in color and style. As soon as he saw who was in the car, the taint loosened its hold. Evan had seen her at an Elysia, someone of import based on what he was able to observe, supposedly a child of one of the elders. He couldn’t tell what nationality she was, but such things weren’t as important once you received the Embrace. Besides, Evan tended to spend more time looking at her eyes. The eyes were always his weakness with women. Hers were so blue they could almost be called silver and they commanded his attention.
Evan could see the silhouette of another woman in the driver’s seat, but couldn’t make out who it was from his angle. Right now, she wasn’t the one he had to worry about.
“Maria would like a word in private, Mr. York.”
If the tone of her voice wasn’t clear enough, her body language spoke volumes, telling Evan that he didn’t have much choice in the matter.
Evan mentally ran through as many names and faces as he could recall from the few gatherings he attended. Luckily, the name matched a face. Circle of the Crone.
“Well, this is an unexpected surprise, Celine,” Evan replied.
Selène’s body tensed, almost imperceptibly, as soon as he said her name. He only caught the subtlest of hints at her displeasure by the way the muscles in her neck stiffened. She hated being called by her first name. Most bastardized it. During one of Evan’s first gatherings in the city Evan witnessed a Kindred, another new arrival who had made it very clear he was Invictus, call her “Celine” while attempting to ingratiate himself. A common mistake considering that most Americans were only aware of the singer of overplayed, over sung, nauseating ballads, but ignorance of the law wasn’t an excuse he reminded himself.
Regardless of the intent, a mistake was made. Evan got the feeling that if they weren’t on sacred ground the affront would have ended with someone in torpor, and it wasn’t going to be Selène.
By purposely mispronouncing her name, Evan was taking a huge risk in the hope of regaining some small advantage and put her off-guard. From her reaction, it worked.
After an all too brief moment Selène regained her composure, smiled, and stepped close to Evan, her face inches away from his. He caught the faintest scent coming off her lips. She must have fed right before coming to get him and his beast was starting to rise at the smell. It took more effort to retain control than he expected - so much for that advantage.
“Shall we go?” she asked with a smile while holding open the rear passenger door.