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Paige swore under her breath at the first hints of a drizzle beginning, a few droplets of rain trying to form landing against her face. She likes rain, she swears she does! But when she was inside! Warm with a cozy fire and a good book with the rain outside as perfect background noise for reading! She hated rain when she was stuck outside, carrying books she literally just bought and she'd really rather not get water damaged. It was so much harder to pull magic off the page when they were stained and smudged. Ugh, it just had to be her luck she was definitely too far from the Baroness to fully escape the rain.
She picks up her pace, thinking in the back of her mind it was probably futile to try to outrun the weather, but what else was she going to do? Just lay down and accept it? No, she couldn't do that. She had to at least try.
As she runs, she starts thinking. What was a faster route? She didn't usually take shortcuts through the creepy dark alleyways the city had an abundance of but her books were on the line here!
She's trying to map out the paths through the city she knew, figure out any faster path that wouldn't require ducking into an alley, and then immediately gives up when a much fatter raindrop hits her head. Then another. Then another. And then the downpour is starting in earnest. She shrieks, fearing for the sanctity of her brand new books, and dashes down the first alley she sees.
Thankfully for her there's an arch above the alley she runs down, blocking the rain, and she comes to a stop with heaving breath. She looks down the alley ahead of her, where the rain pounds down on the path forward. She looks back to where she came, rain similarly blocking off her retreat back to the street. She heaves a heavy sigh. Just my luck… She thinks miserably.
She adjusts the books in her hold, looking down at them to assess the damage. It seems her body blocked most of it, and her frantic running was fast enough that she got under cover before anything could really stain her books. She brushes a few stray droplets off the top books cover, and accidentally jostles her necklace hanging heavy against her chest.
She always wore her pen on a necklace, that was a must. Who knew if she ever needed to write something quickly for emergency situations only bibliomancy could solve? Sure it hadn't happened yet, but it could, and that was the important part. But no, what caught her eye more was her new necklace. A solid golden key hanging off a gold chain. She frowns, placing her fingers gingerly against it.
Doorman gave her this. During their lessons on romance, she'd tried to explain the value in gifts. How things like flowers weren't always a functional gift, but the intention, the meaning, that's what made a romantic gift special. The very next day he had presented the chain and key to her with that typical charming smile of his.
He never explained the meaning. He didn't really need to. Paige understood a key was a pretty solid symbol for holding the key to one's heart or whatever. It was cheesy, but it was so in line with him she couldn't help but be charmed by it.
She sighs again, shutting her eyes as she squeezes the key in her hand. She wishes Doorman was here, he could do his freaky door thing and get her straight to the Baroness without the rain touching her books. Too bad she had literally no way to contact him, and it's not like he'd magically know she needed help. Even if he had noticed the rain and wanted to help her get back unscathed, it's not like he was magically going to know where in the city she was.
A voice, deep and rumbling, startles her from behind so badly she audibly yelps. “So here's the lil rabbit that's caught our fledgling's attention, eh?”
Paige spins around, met by the figure of a man much bigger than her in pretty much every dimension. Taller, wider, thick with muscle. He stands just beyond the edge of the arch, making his figure blurred slightly in the harsh rain, which he appears to be completely unperturbed by. Paige can make out dark hair, and a hat brim drooped so low she can't really make out his eyes.
She looks back and forth, of course there's absolutely nobody else around, and looks back at him. She squeezes a hand tighter around the edge of her books. She was smart enough to be afraid of a stranger approaching her alone in an alley, with rain pouring down on all sides, but she wouldn't go easily. She had a small arsenal of weapons right there in her hands, ready to be at her disposal, and most people didn't expect the bibliomancy when she needed it in a bind.
She adjusts her glasses with her free hand. “Sorry, what?”
The man's head tilts, craning to the side at an angle that feels more like a wolf sizing up prey than a human being. Paige slowly takes a step back. “Yer small, lil one.”
Paige grips her books tighter. Very normal thing to say. Yup. So super normal for a random man to say that to her. “Listen, I don't have anything valuable on me if you're looking for money-”
He barks a laugh so harsh it cuts her off mid sentence. “Nah, cher. I don't want yer money.” He steps forward, finally entering the space under the archway where the rain isn't falling. Paige gets a clearer look now- His clothes are a wreck, tattered and stained, his face unshaven and messy, his grin wide showing off- fangs?! Oh good lord. “I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”
“Um- What?!” Paige backs up more when he walks towards her. She's starting to panic, not thinking clearly, and after only a few short steps feels her back hit the brick wall. Oh no. Oh god. No, that's bad. That's really bad, right?
He lifts a hand, scratching at his chin as intensely red eyes observe her. A slow drag up and down her form that makes her skin crawl. And his hands- his hands are tipped in sharp nails, more like claws than a human's should be, and the skin is stained a deep, crimson red. “See, I don't get it.” He sniffs, hand dropping back to his side.
“Um-” Paige presses harder back against the wall, as if it would magically give way and let her escape. “I don't know if you have the right person? I don't know you!”
“Course you don't,” He snorts, grin widening, making the sharp fangs all the more apparent. “You ain't from ‘round here, doll. You don't know nothin’. Yer in way over yer head.”
Paige’s brow furrowed. She could handle a lot but implications about her capability really irritated her. “I don't know who you are, or what you are going on about, but I assure you, I know what I'm doing.”
He cocks his head. Her heart almost seizes, fear response kicking in as she was reminded this man was more like a predator than a person. “That's cute. You thinkin’ you know anythin’ at all when yer shackin’ up with somethin’ that views you as no more than a social experiment.” He steps closer again, starting to invade the bubble of personal space that makes Paige squirm with unease. “Yer like a bug to him. You know that? A real interestin’ one, real pretty. But that ain't gonna stop him from squashin’ ya when he gets bored.”
Paige gets a hand under the cover of the book on top of her pile. It wasn't one of her battle ready books, but anything pulled from the pages would hopefully startle the guy enough she could get away from him if needed. “What are you talking about?” She narrows her eyes. “Is this about… Doorman?”
“Stupid name,” The man scoffs, turning his eyes away, glaring down the alley at a memory Paige isn't privy to. “Stupid name for a stupid creature, lowerin’ himself to you people's standards.”
Lowering himself to their standards? That implied Doorman was something other than a human. This guy was obviously a vampire, was Doorman secretly a vampire too? Paige only knew a little bit about the vampire community in the city, it had been required reading before allowing herself to step foot in New York. Vampires were very obsessed with status, so that kind of made sense. But… Doorman wasn't a vampire. She'd seen him smile so many times with no hint of fangs, heck she'd kissed him enough times with no sign of fangs, it just wasn't possible!
“Well- He seems happy doing what he's doing,” She tries to defend Doorman's choices, as unsure as she is what exactly it is she's defending. “I don't think he's lowering himself to anything!”
She yelps when the man suddenly crowds into her space, so close she can smell his rank breath, that those intensely red eyes are all she can see. His chest crushes against her hands, making her lose the grip she had ready to open her book, and she fumbles blindly to re-grab the book in her panic. “You don't know NOTHIN’,” He snarls into her face, all the faux-charm he was wearing before dissipating in his irritation.
Paige is panicking. She can hear her heart in her ears its pounding so hard. She fumbles blindly to grasp at her books. She can't summon off a page she can't see, she could if she knew the books as well as she knew her battle-ready ones but these were brand new. And he's so close, he's too close, she can nearly taste the blood that taints his breath.
Then the wall gives way behind her. She falls backwards, gravity feeling like it's lost all meaning. She makes a scared yelping noise in the back of her throat, flailing helplessly as she loses her footing- And then a steady arm catches her. The same arm that caught her helps set her back on her feet. Miraculously she didn't drop any of her books, rapidly bundling them up tighter in her arms as she regains her bearings. She can't breathe, her heart feels like it's about to explode, and she hears a very familiar voice speak up beside her.
“Drifter. I believe I have made it very clear you should not touch what is mine.”
Paige looks up. Doorman was there, as perfectly calm and poised as he always was. Despite the threatening tone to his voice, he smiles that perfectly serene smile of his. His eyes stay fixed on the vampire in front of them, but his arm squeezes Paige tighter against his side.
“Doorman,” She breathes out, so confused she barely processes that he basically just called her his property. That was a can of worms to deal with later. How did he even get here?! She looks behind them, and realizes why the wall gave way. It had been replaced by a door. A door that had opened so suddenly she almost fell right through it. Of course.
Drifter backs off immediately, raising his hands in open palms as if offering peace. He grins, something nasty that almost looks more like a snarl with the way it shows off his fangs. “Hey, I ain't touchin’ her. Ain't laid a finger on her pretty lil head.”
“How funny. It seemed as if you were awfully close to doing so,” Doorman cheerfully responds. He turns his gaze down finally, and Paige swears the glow in those blue eyes is just a little bit more intense than it usually was. “Did he harm you, Miss Paige?”
She looks at Drifter, still standing back with his hands up. She looks back up at Doorman. Slowly she shakes her head. Drifter scared her, and she isn't sure what would have happened if Doorman had showed up even a minute later than he did, but Drifter really hadn't hurt her once.
“Hm,” Doorman gives a thoughtful hum. “Good.” He turns his gaze back on Drifter. “I expect no more unpleasant surprises from you.”
“Aw, cher, you know that's not how I play.” Somehow Drifter's smile stretches wider. “Once the maelstrom's startin’, you know all bets are off.” His head cocks to the side, and Paige is once again reminded of a predator animal. “You gonna be there? Protectin’ yer property when the streets run red at the ritual?”
Paige can't help but look up at Doorman again. His face is unchanged, impossible to read. “That is the idea,” He chirps back pleasantly. His smile doesn't waver, but he cocks his head back at Drifter. “And you, Drifter? You have no need for the ritual.” Paige suddenly feels like she's watching two animals stalking around each other, waiting for the other to start the fight first. She feels like she really should not be here in the middle of this.
Drifter barks a laugh, the hands he held up finally dropping back to his sides. “You an’ I both know them rituals gonna be a bloodbath.” He sniffs, red eyes crinkling at the edges with amusement. “A wish from a god? We know that's somethin’ people will be dyin’ for.” He lowers his gaze and Paige tenses up under Doorman's arm with those blood-red eyes pinning her down. “Think you can handle that, little rabbit?”
“Do not speak to her.”
Drifter ignores Doorman's words entirely, pressing on, “You think whatever wish you got is worth dyin’ for?” He leans closer, only barely, but it rips all the air out of Paige's lungs all the same. “Worth killin’ for?”
“Drifter.” Doorman's voice becomes dangerous, an echo layering underneath it, evidence of something much more powerful and beastly hiding under the surface.
“Hey, she deserves to know what it's like,” Drifter snarls back at him. “You ain't told her, have you?”
Doorman falls silent. His smile has dropped. It's somehow the scariest part of this, that he's completely stopped smiling.
Drifter looks her right in the eye again. She automatically presses herself closer to Doorman, almost wishing she could turn and hide behind him completely. She hated the way Drifter looked at her- Like a meal he was choosing to save for later. “You better decide real quick if blood on yer hands is worth it,” Drifter grins, wide and feral and unfriendly, “because that's what yer gonna get at the ritual. And there ain't no tappin’ out once you start. Them patrons won't let ya.”
Paige swallows too hard. She looks at Doorman, a quick glance as if begging for him to say something, anything, to make Drifter's words less frightening. Doorman remains silent, frowning and glaring at Drifter but not doing anything to disprove his words. She looks back at Drifter, unable to stop the way her body trembles.
“And hey, one last ah-” He chuckles, finding amusement in his words, “piece o’ friendly advice.” He gestures with his head at Doorman. “Yer fledgling ain't gonna be able to protect ya once the blood starts to fall.”
“Drifter.” Doorman's voice echos more than the first time. A warning.
“He's real good at playin’ his part, but at the end of the day a wolf's still a wolf, no matter how much sheeps clothin’ it tries to wear,” Drifter's words take on a growled edge, narrowed eyes flicking up to meet Doorman's angrily glowing ones. “And one that's been starvin’ itself this long? He ain't gonna be able to control himself once the scent of blood hits the air.”
“That's enough.” Paige winces, covering her ears as the echo under Doorman's voice reaches a crescendo, almost piercing in its cacophony of sound. A door appears behind Drifter, swinging itself open on command, and Doorman releases Paige to stalk right up to him. A solid kick right against his sternum, and Drifter is sent through the door. He starts to cackle, a loud, horrific laugh that bubbles out of him like this was the funniest turn of events yet. The sound is abruptly cut off as the door slams shut in his face, then disappears.
Paige stares, wide eyed and trembling. Doorman turns back towards her. His eyes are glowing intensely, his expression a tense frown, and for the first time since she's known him Paige thinks she might be actually afraid of him. He stares at her blankly for a moment, before he seems to remember where he is and shakes his head, forcing the glow in his eyes to dissipate. “I apologize,” He says with a sigh, expression softening into something more distressed. “I wish you had not experienced that.”
“It's- It's okay,” Paige stammers out, shakily pushing herself off the wall to step a few paces closer. “Are… you okay?” She asks gently, freeing one of her hands from her books to raise it hesitantly. Her hand hovers, unsure if she was allowed to touch. She'd seen Doorman get angry before but never like this. It was always short lived, a brief echoing of his voice that he would quickly dissipate as he reeled himself in to handle whatever mess in the Baroness set off his bad mood.
This was… a lot more than that. Doorman was angry, like really angry at this Drifter guy. A vampire that seemed to know Doorman on a personal level, enough that he was offended by Doorman's choices to live the life he was now. That vampire also strongly implied Doorman wasn't human, but he didn't seem like a vampire either so what was he? And everything about the ritual, about the patrons, about bloodshed- She shudders just thinking about it. She knew the ritual was going to be dangerous, but…
She looks up when Doorman gingerly takes her hovering hand in between his own. “I should have come sooner. I am sorry.”
Paige stares at their hands, finds a small modicum of comfort in the warmth of his palms encompassing hers, but it's not enough to drown out the dread weighing her heart down in response to Drifter's words. “What did he mean?” She asks slowly, voice trembling. “That the patrons won't let you leave once the ritual starts?”
Doorman is silent for so long she raises her gaze to his face. His expression is tense. Unreadable. His mouth a thin line instead of his typical smile. “It is a fact. If you agree to start their ritual, they will not let you go.” He sighs, lowering their joined hands but not releasing his hold. “You will be required to stay and fight until the ritual is complete.”
“B-But-” Paige's eyes dart around his face, searching for answers she can't find. “What does that mean?! And- And he called you fledgling. Fledgling what? Are you-” She hesitates, scared of what the answer will be. “Are you not human?”
The silence stretches. The only sound is the drumming of the rain against the stone. “We should go back to the Baroness,” He says softly. It sounds like a plea.
“Doorman-”
“I did not want you to learn these things about me from that creature's mouth,” Doorman snaps, brows furrowing with blatant frustration. “This is not how I intended for this to go.”
Paige falls quiet in response. She looks down at their joined hands again. Her head is swimming, and she's the most scared she's felt in a while but… she has this. She squeezes his hand. That had to count for something, right? Even if he was something else, not being human didn't make him stop being Doorman. She still knew him. Right…? She blinks against stinging eyes, a buildup of tears threatening to blur her vision.
“Let's go back to the Baroness,” She agrees, voice coming out weak.
Doorman doesn't respond but he gently squeezes her hand, a mirror to her own motion. A door appears in front of them, and he leads her through without a word.