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The hackles down his back raised as the knock came. What now? He wasnt in the mood to take another job or for some woman to come sniffing around. Since Vadoma he had been turning them away anyway, no loss. But then a familiar voice and he felt his body go cold. Vadoma.

An ache hit him hard, burrowing deep in his heart. He was hoping he had more time. For what he didn't know, it wasn't like he was unprepared. But he just wanted more time.. more time to sit with the reality of what he'd learned. More time to not do what he was going to do. His head was still swimming, even if he knew what he was going to do. But the rawness of it all was killing him.

He slid to his side, taking one last drag on the pipe before returning it to its holder. He exhaled the smoke steadily, calminghis nerves so he could pretend everything was fine, she couldn't know anything was wrong. As the second knock came he closed his eyes, steeling himself, before he left the bed and crossed the floor to open the door.

Seeing her face, the wind tousling that long dark hair, he thought he'd be more angry but he found only sadness where anger should have been. He offered her that same smile he always gave her, the one only for her. "I wondered when you'd show up." He chuckled, stepping aside to let her in. It was freezing outside, there was definitely a storm coming, how appropriate.

She wasnt wearing a jacket, he could tell the chill had been nipping at her. "You look frozen." Rares approached, he didn't want to touch her but he had to, otherwise she would know for sure something was going on. He rubbed her arms to warm them, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

As he did the thread between them practically hummed, he had to ignore it. He couldn't listen to it, the trust was so frail, practically gone. "Would you like some tea?" The words felt heavy in his mouth but they came out effortlessly, normal. He wasn't giving any sign that he was a void beneath the shell. Beneath the mask of what they had begun to build together.

Rares felt a pinch as she declined the tea, it was fine, he had other ways to numb her. He nodded easily and slipped into the kitchen, pouring himself a shot of something strong from a dark, black bottle. He took it, feeling the heat singe his insides, and poured himself a glass of tea to follow. His eyes lifted to stare out into the darkness of the woods, claws wrapped around the hot mug. He couldn't hurt her, he knew that. There was no way he could cause her the pain he caused others. He would make sure she didn't feel it. He felt sick. Every fiber of his being screaming at him not to do this. But the horror was eating away at his mind, irrational and powerful. He didn't have a choice.

He turned back to rejoin her, he could feel that even despite his attempt to pretend nothing was off that she was suspicious. They were too well connected. He had to lie to her. But he didn't want to do that either. What was he supposed to tell her? His claws slid along the back of her arm, slipping into her hand, he twined his fingers through hers and led her to the bed. Sitting down he sipped his tea, setting it on the table.

He hadn't ever had to do this with someone that he cared about, or who had made him actually care about them. He was out of his element once again. Her questions gave him an opportunity to lie to her but he chose not to, she might be a liar but he didn't want to be. His feelings had been genuine. "Busy. I had to meet with my sire. She had some... unpleasant news to share with me." He let go of her hand and reached over into the table, sliding open the drawer to reach in. He rummaged around as if looking for something but was instead sliding his claws into a gilded silver box that contained a fine powder.

Once done he retrieve the deck of playing cards which he set next to the hookah. "I really dont want to talk about it. Shall we read your fortune? I don't think I've actually done that for you yet." His claws slid over the top of the deck, you couldn't see the powder as it set into the nail and became clear. Flipping the top he smirked. The same card he'd pulled for her the first night. "Happiness at the end of a journey. That's what this one means." He pulled a second, it represented heartbreak, but unless she knew how to read this style of deck she wouldn't understand what it meant. "This one is more accurate..."

The vampire was doing everything in his power not to look into her face, not to let her snare him with those eyes. The eyes he'd been falling in love with more and more every time they were together. She was such a good actress, she sounded so concerned. He wasn't buying it. He knew who she was now. Yet he still felt so conflicted, unable to feel like he was justified in his course, it frustrated and confused him. He let her get so deep beneath his skin. That was why. It had to be.

He lifted the card with his claws and handed it to her, letting her take it. "This is an old style of tarot used by our people." The claws laced with the powder lifted the hair from her shoulder before sliding behind her neck. "But I'm sure your father would know how to read it. Considering he is the clans' Disciple after all." As he said this his claws slid into the flesh of her neck around her spine, the powder quickly seeping into her blood. It wasn't toxic but would, instead, make her sleep heavily. So heavily she wouldn't feel it when he killed her.

Red welled up in his eyes as tears of blood began to fall, sliding down his cheeks. "I trusted you." He whispered, the mask he'd been trying to desperately maintain fading to reveal the pain and emptiness he felt inside. "I thought you weren't like them, that you were different, but you lied to me. You're just like everyone else. No. You're worse."

The powder wouldn't take long to work, it was extremely potent. Even with mixed-blooded Kats from strong lines like she was. The shot he'd taken in the kitchen would keep it from affecting him as it began to sink into the tips of his fingers. Rares released her neck, claws lifting, tipped in her blood. He stood and looked down at them, at her blood, and felt the world collapse around him.

Why did this feel wrong? It was wrong somehow. No. He was doing the right thing. The horror, serpentine, slipped to the forefront of his mind. Showing him why he had to. Showing him what she really was. She wasn't the person he cared about. "That card means Heartbreak." He said, standing before her. His eyes dead, numb. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out about you?"

The sound as she hit the floor made him flinch involuntarily inside, a reaction he wasnt expecting, but he didnt let it show. Watching her move herself across the hardwood towards the wall, pressing her body into the corner, he felt himself torn between believing what was happening was right and dying with every passing second it took place. He stood his ground as the shadows slipped from her back, his eyes narrowing. So, it was true. She had been hiding things from him, she really was their child. If that was true, if Cryso hadnt lied about that, she must not have been lying about Vadoma being paid to get close to him, using him.

He still didnt understand why though. Just to hurt him? It didn't make sense. His enemies didn't just want to hurt him. They wanted him dead. The horror gained strength, whispering to him, the visions stronger. Encouraging him to end it, to stop her from doing this to anyone else ever again. He didn't approach, he didn't know what she could do with those tendrils, and he wasn't about to find out the hard way. Rares furrowed his brows, he hadn't expected this reaction from her. Not entirely. Fear, yes. Even as it cut him up inside. Surprise, absolutely. But he hadn't expected the way she was looking at him, the tears, the complete confusion on her face. He knew the look on a traitors face when they knew they were going to die, this wasn't that look.

'I love you.... It struck him hard, knocking the wind out of his body. His eyes widened suddenly, the tether hummed deep inside of him, begging him to listen. She loved him? He tried to swallow but he couldn't, his expression slipping between confusion and fear. Why would she say that? A last ditch effort to get him to spare her? His stomach felt like he'd swallowed stone, his eyes still empty while he watched her, though something flickered briefly before vanishing. As the shadows enveloped her body and her tear stricken face, he crouched down, his claws scraping the floor, taking in the sight before him. This might protect her for now but it wouldn't stop him, and he could always take her to Cryso if he couldn't finish her off himself.

The words she'd spoken. Why didn't he ask her about it? She was a liar. But those weren't the tears of a liar. The conflict between what he felt and what the horror was telling him was driving him mad. This wasn't right. He couldn't do this. But he had to. His claws slid up, cradling his head, Rares shut his eyes tightly as he tried to drown out the images. What was wrong with him? This should have been easy. But he couldn't do it. He loved her. Despite everything he knew he loved her. But he couldn't fight what poisoned him, he couldn't trust that he wouldn't try and hurt her, that he wouldn't change his mind.

He was so confused. He had cold hard evidence to show that what Cryso had told him had been the truth, but it still didn't feel right, something was off. He clenched his jaw, willing the visions to go, trying to break them. They coiled around him, drawing him deeper, trying to get him to follow the darkness inside of himself. He had to get away from her. But he couldn't leave her like this. Rares released his head and looked up at her sleeping form wrapped in shadows, tears rolled down his cheeks, trailing from the corners of his eyes and falling to the floor. He stood slowly, carefully approaching her, and slipped his arms beneath her body. He didn't care what the shadows did to him, he wouldn't let her stay on the floor. If this was the last thing he did, the last time he touched her, he would at least know he hadn't left her there.

He carried her to the bed, reaching down to grip the fur, slipping her onto the satin sheets and covering her gently. The urge to hurt her was still too potent but that thread between them sung so strongly he couldn't ignore it anymore. He didn't know what was right or true. His gaze softened, heartbroken, as he reached for the tarot and stole the card he'd pulled for her, sliding it into the pocket of his jacket.

Rares turned, heading for the door. He couldn't look back, he was in a place where he could get away from her. She'd wake up in a few hours alone and he'd be long gone. He knew exactly where to go. Rares slipped out the door and locked it behind him so no one could get in, she'd be able to unlock it from the inside and leave when she awoke. He felt the hot sting of tears again. He was nearly drowning in his despair. If he couldn't trust himself in a world with her... he'd make sure he wasn't.