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Cleo was slightly taken back by Oakhurst, upon arrival. She may have been out of touch, certainly, with how humans were these days. It's not as if they'd been interacting with many in a particularly positive manner.
But Oakhurst was strange. The people, more than anything, were strange. Cleo wasn't saying that she wasn't strange, but she was reasonable. That was more than they could say about some of the other people there.
That was what had made her gravitate towards Pearl, probably. Pearl was reasonable. She had a slightly vague backstory and didn't feel the need to trauma dump on people about it, which Cleo could appreciate. If only others would abide by the same etiquette.
Pearl also completely dismissed the idea of vampires, which was good. Cleo wanted to leave everything behind, and people spreading fear was the last thing they needed. Maybe that was hypocritical, considering the reason she had come to Oakhurst in the first place, but even so. Humans shouldn't believe in vampires. And Pearl didn't. Because she was reasonable.
Of course, Pearl had her own quirks. Laying down a well-crafted floor in their new house before a roof was peculiar, and the reasoning of wanting to avoid mud struck Cleo as odd. But she didn't dislike the floors, and Pearl was being kind, working on a house they could share.
Another, bewildering, but amusing quirk was her ability to miss everything. Pearl just seemed to disappear half the time. It became a blessing, really, when Cleo learned to just assume Pearl was safe, wandering around the land as tensions rose. As vampires, (because of course there were vampires, Cleo didn’t tend to be wrong about those things), stalked the night.
The idea of trust seemed to come so easy to Cleo, when they thought of Pearl, and she didn't really know why. Was it because Pearl took her side, let Cleo chase people with swords to get them out of their house, just listened to them?
They were both reasonable people.
She could only hope Pearl was unreasonable enough to believe that Cleo was safe, when she showed her the fangs that had pushed through her gums. But maybe she was just clutching at sunflowers.
Being oblivious was a state of mind, Pearl was now learning.
Vampires were real, it seemed, and her roommate was one.
Pearl was a capable fighter. She was a monster hunter; it was just what she did. Killed those that hurt others.
And Cleo didn't want to hurt anyone. That was what they claimed, and Pearl was fully prepared to believe it.
Maybe that was a mistake.
But what else could she do?
It wasn't as if Pearl would let herself be turned. Cleo knew that; all of the vampires knew that. Of course, they didn't know why.
Pearl had never encountered vampires before. She didn't know how any of it really worked, when mixing with the other creatures of the night she had encountered. Pearl knew the werewolf blood was a mistake, but it kept her stubborn enough to be safe from inhumanity.
She was a hunter. And she would hunt them down if they hurt others.
Then there was a shift. Tiny, inexplicable. But it changed things.
She didn't know when, or how. She definitely didn't want to know why.
What she did know, was that if Cleo hurt someone, she wouldn't kill them. She couldn't.
It was more than that. She didn't want too.
Even when Cleo watched her be chased, just watched as Pearl jumped off the bridge into the rushing river to escape the vampires, not defending her at all when it really counted. Even when Cleo vanished for days at a time, up to that dark castle. Even when Cleo manipulated everyone, including Pearl, and she knew it.
Pearl didn't want to hurt Cleo.
Cleo didn't want to hurt Pearl.
How long could Cleo go on like that, staying on their own side against everyone else but Pearl?
How long Pearl could stand with Cleo, while still standing with the humans, defending the vampire?
She let Cleo drink from her, let Cleo dig up that long-buried blood, draw claws from her nails and drag bloodlust into her mind.
In return, she let Pearl strike her, unflinching as Pearl's new claws dug into flesh and brought back that endless vampiric hunger.
"Why does Cleo defend you?" Everyone turned to look at Pearl after Apo's question. Apo looked almost frustrated, almost jealous.
Pearl had always tried to tell the truth. Although that was getting harder as the days went on in Oakhurst.
"I genuinely don't know. Just...Cleo’s my family."
The hunger for family was more consuming that any lust for justice, any desire for her old morals.
She let Cleo see her as oblivious. Pearl didn’t miss the look Cleo had made when she mentioned her thoughts on killers, murders.
Cleo wasn’t a killer. Cleo was a farmer.
A farmer of what, exactly?
Sometimes, it was easier being oblivious.
Cleo was so tired. She just wanted to leave. It came to the point where nothing mattered anymore, not the hunger, not the coven being torn into shreds from Avid’s death. Avid was dead, and she didn’t care at all.
Pearl followed them without complaint when they beckoned. She always followed. They sat on the ground together, leaning against a large, misshapen rock.
“The doctor asked... he asked me to turn him.”
Pearl glanced up sharply. “Did you?”
Cleo shook their head. “Not yet. Not yet. He said...when he stops being useful, I should make him useful again.” She looked over at Pearl. “Will you forgive me for it?”
“Well, if it’s his choice. You’d be like Shelby. She didn’t turn anyone until Avid asked.” Pearl smiled at Cleo, eyes tired but bright. “I’m always saying it, Cleo. I don’t have a problem unless you bring harm, hurt someone. Kill someone. That’s my job.”
Cleo let out a slow exhale. “Pearl...”
“Yeah?” Pearl rested her head back onto the boulder.
“You shouldn’t let go of your morals for me. I’ve done... I’ve done so much wrong in the world. I’ve done so much harm. You know that. So why? Why stay?”
Pearl’s eyes slipped shut. Cleo was so filled with wonder, amazement at how Pearl could just...let her guard down like that, rely on nothing but her excellent hearing.
“You regret it. You regret most of it. I don’t want you to leave this world just yet, because you can change, Cleo. You want to change. And I don’t want to be alone anymore.” An eye opened, startlingly blue. So bright, so human, amongst all the hungry red irises.
Cleo wanted to leave. That’s all she wanted.
“I’ll stay.”
They stuck together, fingers linked together as they spoke to Scott. He was being rather useful, for once. Cleo studied his face carefully, but saw no grief as they spoke of Pyro’s death. Cleo for one, found the situation rather amusing, but she had a rather broken sense of things.
The plan came together. Vampire, human, and ex-thrall, figuring out how to manipulate the rules that bound them all there.
“A vampire will need to sacrifice themselves, though.” Scott ran a hand through his bone-white hair. “And it certainly won’t be me.”
“Guess that will be me then-”
“What?”
Cleo refused to look at Pearl, didn’t react when her sharpened nails scratched their palm. Scott got a funny look on his face, until something dawned.
“What about the doctor?” Cleo exhaled, and felt Pearl do the same.
It wasn’t until Cleo had gotten the doctor to agree that she realised who the human sacrifice would be.
The one that would be stuck in Oakhurst, while the rest of them went free.
But she knew they couldn’t stop the plan now. Especially after they lost Martyn and Ren, so quick that Cleo couldn’t even take a breath. Especially after Cleo drove a stake through the doctor’s heart, while he felt the sun emerge one last time, the heat sizzling on both their skin. It couldn’t be taken back.
If Pearl had to stay, then so would Cleo.
That was just how things worked, it was the only way Cleo could breath, could survive long enough to see this out.
“Speaking of which, do you want to be turned before or after? Then we could all turn the beacon together.”
Pearl had agreed to being turned quite quickly. Just because she was staying in Oakhurst, it didn’t mean she couldn’t come and go as she pleased. And vampiric abilities could be used for protection.
“You know what, in solidarity, I’ll turn now.” Scott gave a laugh at that.
They all stood around the beacon, the yellow glow warming Pearl’s skin. Based on how all the vampires stood at a slight distance, they had a different experience.
“You need to pick someone to turn you.” Cleo spoke softly, gazing into the beacon. She still had the doctors blood on her claws, mixing with chicken flesh. All the vampires smelt a bit of rotting meat, Pearl noted.
“Yes, who do you want to do the honours?” Scott sounded like he knew the answer. They all did, with the way that everyone turned to stare at Cleo.
“I don’t think I need to say it.”
It felt selfish, to put that on Cleo, bring another burden, appeal to their sense of responsibility. But Pearl deserved to be selfish more often, she decided.
Her eyes fluttered shut as Cleo drank from her, her heartbeat fading away. It was slow, a soul draining ache that made warm tears run down her face. Cleo’s hand tightened around hers, squeezing it comfortingly.
“Almost there, I promise.”
It felt like Pearl was being pulled out the ground, everything bright and alien. Her sense of smell amplified, the sun grew brighter, and her stomach began to ache, craving something more. She took the bottles of blood offered eagerly, popping the corks and draining them. Her tongue darted out, licking up the blood that spilled down her chin with relish.
She accepted the compliments on her second stage form, tried to ignore Cleo’s soft murmur of ‘beautiful’, and they turned the final beacon. The air was quiet, subdued but determined as the eternal darkness fell.
The pack of vampires returned to the boarder, Apo drifting away in silence. Pearl couldn’t blame Apo at all, no matter how much Cleo did. She hoped she could find peace with the one she loved. Drift stuck around, rubbing her hand between Oscar’s silky ears.
“What will you do now?” Pearl gathered the cat into her arms and considered the question with a hum.
“We’ll rebuild. Right, Pearl?”
We.
She’d never really known whether to believe Cleo, after all the lies. But she had told the truth, at last.
Pearl gave her a smile and savoured the way Cleo’s face brightened at the sight. “Yeah. We’ll rebuild. Together.”
They waved goodbye to Scott, Shelby, and Drift, watching them vanish into the distance. When they walked through the barrier, Cleo let out a hysterical laugh.
“They left. They actually left.” She looked at Pearl, eyes wide. “The plan worked.”
Pearl felt herself giggle, and let Cleo pull her back into the town. Back to home, back to just the two of them at last.
They ended up moving into the castle, despite all the memories. It was still a castle, and a far better alternative to the ruins of Oakhurst. No town was built in a day.
Sometimes Cleo would pause her chores, wonder how they had ended up like this. After all that. Quiet. Domestic. Useful. Guardians, not farmers, not hunters.
She would write pages of letters to the doctor, beg for forgiveness for sins neither of them could fully absolve. But she was doing her best to fix it, for both of them.
Sometimes Pearl would falter when cleaning the graves and wonder what she could have done differently. Maybe if she had turned earlier, been able to protect Avid, Martyn.
Pyro. She thought on Pyro a lot, what he was like when they first met, all those years ago. He had been young, kind, curious. The way he had turned out ... it was something she would never be able to fully forgive Scott for, for all that he had changed now.
Pearl had been there when Shelby finally made the grave for the sire she had slain with her bare hands. She had just watched from the hill, before approaching from behind, leaving a sunflower in silence. Shelby looked at her, wiping a hand under her yellow tinted glasses. She had always been a pretty crier.
They had walked back to the castle arm in arm, away from all the graves, back to the others.
Pearl enjoyed it when Scott and his girls came to visit every year to Avid's grave, she really did. But nothing beat the time she spent with Cleo alone, just the two of them.
They would lie together in bed, curled around each other, and just breath. People, immortal beings, who were stubborn about everything and anything. Too set on their morals and ideas to ever really change.
Pearl was Cleo’s exception.
Cleo was Pearl’s.
“Are we unreasonable people?” Cleo watched Pearl halt her work, put down her spade next to the new sapling. Cleo ran the silky petals of a sunflower between her fingers.
“It’s taken this long for you to figure out, huh?” She smiled at Cleo, red eyes bright like the moon, teeth as sharp as a wolf. “Here I thought I was the oblivious one.”
Cleo tilted their head to the crimson sky and laughed.