Out of the Dark

[Ewan Dunsirn]

Ewan gave an exaggerated shrug that said 'don't know, don't care.' It didn't matter who else had seen whatever had taken place. There was no one who could have connected anything in Sansa Martin's flat to the Giovanni. Even if they did, the family was well-connected. It'd be left to Roland Salisbury and his lackeys to try and sweep that mess under the carpet.

“Anyway,” Ewan glanced down at the smart-phone in his hand, “I've got people on the way here to clear out the bodies, so I'm taking her back to ours. It'd be helpful if you could keep out of the way for a while.”

[Liam Dunsirn]

Helpful. Of course. Liam thought about taking offense, but couldn't find the conviction inside him. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to scare anyone." He bared his teeth in a smile as he opened the fridge. Empty.

There was a corked bottle of merlot on the countertop, however, and he put it under his arm. "Right, I'm off." He sauntered down the hall, stopping to give a damp Sansa a nod before letting himself out.

[Sansa]

Sansa felt a tiny bit better, her hair and face rinsed clean. As Liam Dunsirn thumped down the stairs she lingered in the hallway, trying not to stare at the body of the man she'd killed. It wasn't that death disturbed her anymore, or that she was squeamish about taking a life. She was just so fucking hungry.

She was breathing heavily, open mouthed, and unaware that she'd spoken her last thought.

[Ewan Dunsirn]

“Uh... huh.”

Ewan fought the impulse to narrow his eyes at her. Instead, after double-checking that she had indeed removed any clothing stained with blood, Ewan carefully wrapped an arm around Sansa's shoulders and began to guide her out.

His car was parked in the garage of the Sansa's building. The cars headlights flashed as he thumbed the button on his keys for the central locking. Before he opened any of the doors, however, Ewan paused and took hold of Sansa by the shoulders.

“Do you need to feed right now? I think you can be strong for me and hold on for a little while, can't you?”

He had visions of her going into frenzy and trying to tear out his throat, driven wild by a potentially lethal cocktail of stress and the hunger. It was better if she didn't drink from him. That would risk creating the beginnings of a blood bond and weakening the attachment that she had to Gabriel.

[Sansa]

"N-no, I can wait." Sansa chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then squared her shoulders and straightened her back. She was a Toreador, not a sniveling child.

She didn't much feel like it, though. "Apologies, I am afraid I'm a bit of a wreck."

[Ewan Dunsirn]

“You are.”

Ewan held the passenger door to the car open and Sansa climbed inside obediently, the door closing behind her. Ewan slid into the drivers seat and paused a moment, flexing his fingers against the wheel. The cars sterile, air-conditioned interior was a welcome departure from the sloppy mess inside Sansa's apartment. Adjusting the rear view mirror, he couldn't help but glance briefly to the left, as the worry that Sansa might get blood on the upholstery needled through him.

The things I tolerate for the Family.

Ewan smiled and shifting gears, pulled out of the garage. The streets of London were busy, busier than usual as kine from the world over flocked to the spectacle of the Olympics. Ewan frowned faintly as he realised the voices on the car radio were also ooing and aahing over it all. With a twist, he lowered the volume.

“Is there anyone we can contact for you, Sansa?”

[Sansa]

She was silent long enough that he wondered if she'd heard him at all. Who could she contact? Gabriel was the disgraced former Prince. His old friends had shunned them for years, and she'd rarely left the apartment except for finding kine at his side. He let her take walks by herself from time to time, and of course she had been away from him when he'd needed her the most.

Sansa knuckled her forehead in distress, and slowly shook her head. "There is no one to call. Except..."

Ewan looked back at her in the rear view mirror, and she shrugged. "Thaddeus Post, perhaps. He used to be a friend of Gabriel's." Unless Post was behind the assassination. She leaned her head against the window, staring blindly out at the street as they drove. The world of vampire politics was a big confusing mess of wheels within wheels, and she didn't have the brain for it, as Gabriel had often told her.