The Devil's Got Your Number

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

While Arabella cleared the room of its valuables, Paddy occupied himself with the television; once it was on, he turned the volume up so he couldn't hear where she was stashing the goods, then he channel-surfed until he came across a programme playing loud offensive music. He closed his eyes and buried his head between his legs. He would have to feed tomorrow, he thought. Suddenly, he muted the TV and called out from between his legs.

"Wait! We're forgettin' suttin' important!"

[Arabella Balfour]

Arabella was in her room. She had a pair of crystal pillars for candles, pilfered off the table, recalling how Paddy had been transfixed with the sparkle of diamonds. These sparkled quite beautifully and had been the first thing she'd gotten out of sight. She opened a drawer near brimming with lacy under garments, but that would be the first place any decent theif would look. Especially a male one..

She turned in a circle, looking for options and feeling slightly ridiculous. Opening the closet she spied her recently unpacked designer luggage. It was the most creative place, but perhaps it was so obvious it would be over looked? Anyways.. she didn't care, she'd just have the load removed tomorrow and put in storage somewhere for now..

She heard Paddy call out from the living room and shoved her closet door shut, almost skipping back out.. "Yes..? You can have any room you want, if that's the question, just not the one I'm already unpacked in."

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Not dat."

He stood and turned to face her. She was really beautiful, he noted. He would've picked up on such a thing sooner had his mind not been preoccupied. Too beautiful, he told himself. He cleared his throat.

"So, if I give yeh a hand with dis situation o' yours, de blood ting, yeh will let me stay 'ere?"

He extended his hand.

"Deal?"

[Arabella Balfour]

She suddenly felt a little like Faust. Oh well.. She was already doomed for a lifetime, and then some, of the most immodest kinds of sins. What was her soul along with it? Arabella nodded to herself and slid her hand into Paddy's giving him a shake and sealing the bargain.

"Deal.."

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Good," he said, sounding relieved.

A twinkle of light caught his eye and he pointed. On the mantle sat a gold antique clock.

"Get rid o' de clock."

He turned and crashed onto the couch. He kicked off his filthy sneakers and restored the volume of the television. It was a saucy advert for an adult channel. His big toes poked out through holes in the socks. He called out over the sound of women moaning suggestively.

"Yeh got any booze?"

[Arabella Balfour]

Picking up the little clock, Arabella shot an incredulous look over her shoulder. My, but he had settled in after the handshake. Paddy took his deal making serious, dead serious, though his taste in programming was a tad.. vulgar and his clothes needed to make it down the nearest garbage shoot.

She sighed, sensing a mission coming on. It seemed she was going to have to civilize him just a bit. Well, perhaps.. refine would be a better way of putting it.

"Booze.. No. I do believe we have wine though.." She elected to keep mum on the topic of ordering out.

Arabella continued to glide around the apartment, removing the valuables from each corner and relocating them into her bedroom. In the end, she ran out of places to hide things and a pile began to form in front of her closet door.

Every so often she would catch some ridiculous sounds of panting and debauchery coming from the vicinity of the t.v.. This generation had no idea what the meaning of 'sensual' was, she scoffed indignantly.

As she crossed the room one last time, looking all around she got a bit weak at the knees and the room went rather dark on her. Sucking in a dazzed breath she groped for the table and cursed quietly, her alarm on her watch sounding again to take her medication.

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"As long as it 'as a percentage."

He stood and crossed the room, now clear of almost all fancy decor, and entered the kitchen. No cupboard was left unraided and a long row of wine bottles had formed on the breakfast bar. He opened a bottle and read the label.

"Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Nineteen sixty-eight."

He scoffed and took a healthy swig. Upon leaving the kitchen, he noticed the kinky advert had finished and the music videos had resumed. Halfway through another long gulp from the bottle, he noticed Arabella stood motionless next to the dinner table, her alarm ringing. He pulled the bottle away from his lips and regarded her in a boorish tone.

"Whads de madder wit you?"

[Arabella Balfour]

She righted herself immediately. "Nothing.. I'm fine."

She shut her alarm off and entered the kitchen, removing yet another pill bottle from the cabinet nearest the fridge. She also retrieved a bottled water. Popping another couple pills she leaned against the counter, shutting her eyes until the dizziness passed. She was not doing as grand as she would like to believe. Whatever strength she'd recieved from Byron, before leaving Paris, was leaving her quickly.

Arabella opened her eyes and caught Paddy watching her curiously. "It's merely been a while," She shot him a look, so he would understand what she was refering to.. "..and it's not lasting as long as it used to. I'm afraid, I am a bit more delicate than I would like to admit.."

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Oh, right."

He swigged from the wine bottle and slumped onto the couch. He focused his attention on a garish psychadellic music video for a punk band. Despite his best efforts watching television, his gaze wandered across the room whenever he leaned back to swallow more wine. He started fidgeting with the bottle top, peeling back the foil. He spoke, finally.

"But yer arright, aren' yeh?"

[Arabella Balfour]

"Not sure.. but I hope your 'blokes are of the fast variety." She took the water bottle with her and joined him in the living room, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

"Or you'll be down a place to stay before you get settled.." She looked more pale and weak now than she had earlier. She absently rubbed her arms, as if she were freezing, though the room was, in fact, quite warm now. Her dispassionate dark gaze was locked on the screen..

"What is this...?"

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Who knows? Some colourful friggin' band or suttin'."

He was curt with her while she made some polite small talk. His mind was preoccupied with what she'd said about losing the roof over his head. He was two-thirds through the bottle. He swivelled in his seat and looked at her.

"Yeh look terrible."

He offered her the wine.

[Arabella Balfour]

She looked at the offered bottle for a long moment.

"Oh, what the hell..." She leaned over and wrapped her fingers around the bottle. If she already looked awful, a nice pain-dulling buzz surely wouldn't hurt her. Besides... that was a damn nice bottle and she wanted a go..

Arabella tipped it back and glugged down two big swallows, then righted the bottle and closed her eyes in pure, decadent bliss. "That's quite good.."

She licked her lips, then handed the bottle back regretfully. The wine had an immediate effect, warming her a bit, making her feel less like an animated cadaver.

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Wine's wine, innit?"

He shrugged and glugged the wine. His head rolled back and he stared at the ceiling, enjoying a warm heady rush. His eyes fell on Arabella again, who looked drowsy, but she had some colour in her cheeks now. He passed her the bottle again.

"Erm... so yeh always been a one-vampire-ghoul?"

[Arabella Balfour]

Mid-sip, Arabella burst into hysterical giggles. That was the funniest damn thing she had ever heard. Paddy and his lack of dressing matters up was like a blast of fresh air in her life.

Wiping her lips, and still smiling ridiculously, she handed the bottle back again. "No.. not usually. Too risky staying with the same person for very long." She'd only grow attached, and it was a business arrangement after all..

She elaborated, without being too crude regarding her lifestyle. "At the very, least I have to keep them on a rotation."

She looked far-away, for a moment, lost in private reflection. "Although.. there has been a couple over the years that I have been with out of choice and not necessity. They were different matters entirely."

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

While she spoke of her personal affairs, Paddy engaged in another bout of channel-surfing, and although he listened, his mind was elsewhere. The wine was affecting her fast which he assumed was a result of her sickness. He thought about how much time she had left and consequently, how much time he had to see his side of the deal through. He fully intended to stretch his stay for as long as possible but after harzarding a glance her way, he knew he'd have to act quickly. He'd start tomorrow.

"All dose years," he muttered absently, "Why didn' yeh just turn?"

[Arabella Balfour]

"Wouldn't inquiring minds just love to know the answer to that one.." She laughed, shaking her head.

"You are not the first to ask me that, believe me. My answer is usually some vague response about being afraid of dying, but now? Actually going through this experience, whether I want to or not.. I think I've come upon the answer.. but it's rather psychological and I'm not certain you'd grasp it right now.." She canted her head trying to make sense of the channels, it was not good.

Too blurry.

Arabella slumped back against the couch, hands flopping at her sides. She was not a body acustomed to slumping however, and it looked rather unnatural on her..

"It's stupid anyways.."

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

"Probably," he grunted, wishing he hadn't asked in the first place.

His channel surfing paused while he watched a hectic shoot-out scene from a mob movie. The flashes of gunfire lit up the room. He tired of it and changed channel. The bottle was down to the last dregs. He turned to offer it to Arabella but she hardly looked fit to stand. He downed the last of it.

"Not bad," he said, and stood. "Round Two."

He stepped over the low coffee table and just as he was about to head off to the kitchen, he noticed Arabella's eyes were closed. He gently kicked her.

"Oi! Yeh want suttin'?"

[Arabella Balfour]

"No.. thank you, Fiona... just a little nap.. I swear..."

She really wasn't even sure who she was talking to. Arabella slid sideways, flopping over and curling into a ball, but her arm slid out from under her. Her skin had been pale, only a hint of color anyways but at least healthy looking. Now where her arm lay over the side of the cushion, it revealed she had a grey palor stealing over her. The wine had made her comfortable and warm and she was succumbing to a dark heavy desire to just let go..

[Paddy O'Sullivan]

He stood silently over her for a moment, staring at her pale face. Her breathing was shallow. Her entire body was limp.

"Christ."

He pulled off his jacket, cast it aside, and rolled up his jumper sleeve. He sat on the arm of the chair. His right arm wrapped around her and he tilted her head back, then with a pinch of the cheeks her mouth opened. He pressed his exposed left wrist to his lips, closed his eyes, and bit. It felt perverse.

The wound dripped steadily, staining her dry lips crimson, and as he lowered his arm further, he clenched his fist. The blood flowed freely.

[Arabella Balfour]

Someone was trying to wake her up, but it was too early and she was too tired. She felt buried beneath layers and layers of down coverlets atop a thick down-pile mattress. Surely, she must been up dancing too late again, because every inch of her hurt and protested at being woken up. She snuggled deeper against her bed and shook her head, mumbling a protest of her own..

Whoever her provoker was, they didn't take the hint, because her head was yanked out of her snuggly den and tipped back. Now they were forcing some kind of black coffee down her throat! It was too strong! Her spoiled senses screamed for cream and in this brews case, she might have opted for the sugar as well.. but as soon as she got over the desire to complain, the coffee started working. She felt it's tingle all the way down to her toes..

She opened her eyes slowly and everything changed.

It wasn't coffee making her wake up, it was Paddy and he had just saved her life.. but that was where coherrent thought flew out the balcony doors. Her hands flew up to grab his arm, her eyes fluttered closed again not in a daze this time, but in satisfied abandon. Her starved body felt like a sheet of parchment, soaking up ink, colorizing itself. The source hardly mattered to her, it paled in comparison to the ravenous need to feel vital again..