Waiting For Sunrise

"It wasn't a dream…" Irene muttered to herself, running her tongue along the pulpy muscles that controlled her fangs. She recalled that eerie apparition of Layla. There was no doubt she saw the woman from the locket. It wasn't just seeing her, but simply knowing her in a way Irene could not explain. There was a disturbing familiarity about the vampire slave, and a haunting longing to be near her. Without Cyrus in the room, Irene felt she could finally explore these foreign thoughts and feelings.

This is crazy, Irene kept telling herself. However, she had to acknowledge that everything since meeting Cyrus was crazy. She felt both distressed and empty. It was a slap in the face to be a vampire, the thing she'd come to loathe. But there was also a yearning ache she did not know how to soothe. She wanted something but was not sure what it was, and it made her restless.

Irene paced, deep in thought, coming no closer to a workable theory or conclusion that made any sense. Her stupor was broken by the sound of a clatter on the floor above her. Irene's mind was slow to catch up with her involuntary reflexes and inherent curiousity, feeling as though she didn't decide to run up the stairs so much as something else decided for her. Her hand groped the side of the doorframe, and she looked on to see Cyrus holding a clutter of clothes. Somewhere, in there, she imagined there was a person.

Cyrus lifted his head and turned his attention to Irene, who alertly stood in the access to the basement. He smiled his usual smirk, and then glanced down at the mess of scarf and overcoat. "Lookie what I found trying to break in," Cyrus said, a ringing of self praise in his voice.

Irene narrowed her eyes then widened them in recognition. "Amber?"

There was a muffled, albeit feminine, noise in response. Cyrus's smile dropped and he looked down at his prized catch. He pulled down her hood and revealed the petite girl's panicked face.

"Amber, what are you doing here?"

"I have information!" Amber blurted out hastily, shaking within Cyrus's firm grasp. He continued to stare at her with suspicion, but Irene calmly approached, holding up a hand to signal Cyrus to hold back any hostility.

"Go on," Irene prompted.

Amber swallowed hard, seeming to struggle to speak. Irene shot a glance at Cyrus, and he loosened the hold on her somewhat, but his hands remained clutching her clothes.

"So you two know each other?" Cyrus asked, still leering at Amber. It seemed to work quite effectively on her, as the younger teen shrank within herself.

"She was the one who warned me Gabriel's men were coming," Irene informed, keeping her tone level and clear while maintaining eye contact with Cyrus, although his eyes weren't going to hers. His were more focused on the girl, particularly her covered neck.

"Th-that's right - I'm not the enemy!" Amber bobbed her head eagerly.

Irene arched an eyebrow and shifted her gaze to look deadpan at Amber. "I never said you weren't," Irene said coldly.

"B-but I.. I..." Amber began, but then quickly stopped as Cyrus whipped her scarf off of her, causing her to grow pale and quickly try to cover her neck. Cyrus grabbed her again, and she looked upon him with pinpoint pupils.

"What have you got to hide, dear?" Cyrus firmly placed his hand on her wrist. The two stared at each other, each very still, other than the rapid shallow breaths causing Amber's chest to shudder. With her eyes still fixed on him, her hand was moved by Cyrus's guiding grasp. The way they locked eyes, the way that Amber's breathing slowed, and the way her wrist fell limp in his white hands were all Irene's spies. Amber's eyes grew glassy; Irene had seen that before.

"Cyrus… leave her be," Irene finally said. However, her intoned instruction was delayed, and Cyrus's eyes broke the trance on Amber and she froze up. Cyrus was staring and examining the girl's neck.

"Aha. Vampire groupie, are you?" Cyrus shook his head. "I don't understand the youth today," Cyrus muttered.

"I… b-but I wasn't…" Amber stuttered, unable to get her point across and instead broke off into incoherent fragments and misplaced articles.

Cyrus just clicked his tongue and glanced over at Irene. "This is no surprise to you is it? Is she your little angel?" Cyrus looked back at Amber with a huff. "Or is she just another pawn against us? Why do you, of all people, trust her? Is it because she seems so small and pathetic?"

"Cyrus - enough!" Irene snapped coldly. She walked over to Amber, putting her hands on her trembling shoulders and gently turned her away from Cyrus, breathing out a soothing 'hush' through her teeth. Irene looked over her shoulder at Cyrus. Cyrus crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows so that they vanished under the hood of his dark messy hair.

"You are a wet blanket," Cyrus groused. Irene gave him her well-practiced evil eye and returned her attention to Amber, who was starting to calm, only if just a little. "If you loosened up a little you'd know I was just teasing her. Gabriel wouldn't rely on a trembling doorstopper like her. He eats girls like her for breakfast… no as a snack! Naw, she wouldn't even be sufficient to pick his teeth!" Irene's glare sharpened to a scowl. Cyrus lifted his eyebrows. "What? Oh, right, yes, I know, I'm horrible and insensitive, but is that new? Let's hear what the runt has to say!"

"Well maybe she could get a word in edgewise if you didn't like the sound of your own voice so much!" Irene growled, baring her teeth. The squeak that followed did not even register as a human sound, but nonetheless Amber was the source.

"So it's true! How horrible!" Amber said, staring at Irene's mouth. Irene threw her glare at Amber, which made her wince. Irene heard a 'snerk' from Cyrus and whipped her head back at him to transfix him in her flaring abhorrence.

"Well it wasn't me… wait. You know the vampire who did this, don't you?" Cyrus asked, seizing Amber again. He drew his face very close to hers, their noses mere millimeters from touching. Amber's eyes grew so large, and Cyrus' so narrow that juxtaposed, they both looked like caricatures.

Irene's hands intervened. "That is enough you two. Cyrus, give her her space. Amber, just buckle up and tell us what you need to tell us!" Irene sternly commanded.

Cyrus gave her a long side glance, but then hesitantly released Amber, who scuttled away from his arm's reach, gasping for air which she'd withheld in pure terror.

"A-alright," Amber's throat flexed as she gulped down her evident fear. She took in a few more breaths to stable herself, and her eyes darted side to side. Finally she swallowed again and nodded her head with a certain air of finality. "You will b-be safe here for a few more d-days. Gabriel has b-been led to b-believe you're hiding somewhere else. B-because of the attack, a lot of his guys are sticking close, so they won't b-be snooping around for a little b-bit."

"So we have a few nights to rest?" Irene asked hopefully. "That's a very small relief, but one nonetheless."

"I… I am not d-done!" Amber insisted. Irene fell silent, and Cyrus, who had his mouth open to say something, shut it to listen. Irene and Cyrus waited impatiently, watching Amber's lips moving as she prepared the next message. "Gabriel…" she said, elongating the last two syllables as her eyes went to one side, "…is in an old animal feed factory that is d-down for reno…renation… for b-building more."

"You mean renovations," Cyrus added helpfully.

"Yeah, guess so. Anyway…" Amber continued, "…It's b-by some t-train t-tracks and a t-tunnel. He is, um, resting too. He lost a lot of men. I am sup-p-posed to be t-telling you that tomorrow night you should attack, b-before he, uh, regroups," Amber said carefully, going over every syllable with care.

Irene instantly turned to Cyrus. "You may think it's a trap…" Irene tilted her head to the side, a confident expression dawning on her gaunt face, "…but tomorrow night is our opportunity to end this."

Cyrus rolled both of his shoulders and cracked his neck. "It's probably a trap, but what the hell. Why not be reckless? It might turn out well - although nothing has since… oh… well… eternity. But I'm an optimist."

"You certainly have reinforced my sense of confidence…" Irene muttered. Amber glanced between the two of them, and finally grabbed back her scarf. Cyrus let it go without much resistance.

Cyrus rubbed his chin and squinted at Amber. "All the same, some caution won't hurt. Itty-bitty, you're staying here until tomorrow night as collateral."

Both girls turned and exclaimed a 'what' but with two very different tones.

"No, that will not do!" exclaimed Irene. "We don’t have the room for her!"

"She can sleep in your father's room."

"My father…" Irene suddenly had a hypothetical light go on above her head, and her face was stricken with worry. "My father was supposed to be home already! I haven't heard from him at all!" Irene rushed to the phone and picked up the receiver. There was dead air on the other side. Had they cut her off? Her father could pay bills from afar, so why wouldn't he? "God…"

"Oh…" Amber peeped. "I… uh… forgot to say I also had a message ab-bout your father…"

"What?" Irene asked, this time being the one to seize Amber's poor abused shoulders. "What about my father! TELL ME!"

"He… d-don't worry… he's not in REAL d-danger… he's just been det-t-tained, p-p-pending investigation. That's the message."

"How do you KNOW this?" Irene demanded suspiciously.

"I-I… that is my master… well… someone set him up. My master knows who… b-but I was told he wouldn't b-be charged… that the evidence to clear him would make its way to the… uh… p-police I g-guess," Amber babbled, but her gaze kept wandering to Cyrus while speaking, until Irene followed her gaze to him. For the entire last sentence she was staring at Cyrus, and his impeccably straight face. Irene raised an eyebrow at him, only for him to mirror this subtle action.

"Would that person happen to be someone in this room?" Irene asked Amber while staring pointedly at Cyrus.

"Well, I d-don't know - only my master d-does," Amber squeaked. Irene continued to stare at Cyrus, who continued to stare back. All fell silent, other than a slight creaking from Amber shifting her weight nervously.

After having enough, and neither saying anything, Irene threw her arms up in the air in frustration. "I'm going back to bed!" she said heatedly. She promptly pivoted on her heel and stormed down to the basement, slamming the door behind her.

"Peaches, you-"

"Somehow I don't think the name fits anymore, so stop it!" Irene irately snapped. She sat wrapped up in a blanket with only her pale face peeking out of the textile cocoon. She eagerly glared at Cyrus, which had become a hobby for her.

"Oh right, I forgot I changed it to Breaches!" Cyrus responded with his impish expression. However, this countenance soon dropped to one more grim. Unfazed, Irene maintained hers. "As I was saying, you need to stop storming off like that - nothing ever gets resolved when you wander off."

"Nothing will get resolved as long as I'm angry enough to leave," Irene retorted petulantly.

Cyrus cocked an eyebrow at her, but then continued forward. "Ahem! Your father is safer where he is. He'd be a likely target if he came back in the middle of this. Ever wonder why you never heard again about Merle?" Irene's face blanched, her attention grabbed and her glare dropped. "I recently learned that Gloria was suspended before she could do anything for your friend."

"What are you saying? Is Merle dead?" The words caused a strange sensation akin to fear, but tainted with a lack of shock. There was almost some new dimension to the word 'dead', but she didn't have the state of mind nor time to ponder upon it.

"Not yet. But the place she is at can only hold her for a week before she'll be brought back. She already blabbed about vampires. I don't imagine she'll make it home. Your father, however, is out of danger as long as he's out of town. You are in this deep, Irene," Cyrus cautioned, not bothering with any tenderness. However, to Irene's relief, he dispensed with the usual wisecracks.

"…Fine." Irene lifted her eyes to regard Cyrus with a dull expression. "I didn't want to be a part of this. But control over one's life is an illusion. All I can do now is fix what I can," Irene said calmly. Irene had nothing more to say. Finally, after standing somewhat awkwardly, Cyrus sat beside the bundled up Irene.

"That's right. Glad we agree on something," Cyrus laced his fingers together and let them hang in his lap.

"I'm tired all over, Cyrus." Irene said in a quiet, weary tone. "However, I won't get any rest until I know I can afford the safety of my family and friends. I've been helpless and trapped this entire time despite how much I've fought. But… I don't think I can protect them. I never could, but I'm even less capable now. I feel weak, drained, empty, and lost. Is this how you felt during your transition?"

Cyrus leaned his head back, a distant look to his usually keen eyes. "Oh… no… but my circumstances were different. I didn't feel weak or drained, at least, not after the initial shock and sickness passed. Instead, I felt polluted. I never tried once to make contact with my caravan afterwards."

"Caravan?" It came to Irene's attention that she knew nothing about his mortal life. "Were you on a journey?"

"More or less. I left my 'home' and ran off with travelers - gypsies they were called then. As a mortal my skin was quite swarthy, so my adopted father didn't even try to pretend I was not proper English stock. I figured I belonged with the outcasts more than I did in my own house. Ah… but that is not important. I didn't have time to feel lost or longing because I had Gabriel to rival with and Lysandra to please," Cyrus explained.

Irene lowered her head, her pointed chin vanishing in the folds of the blanket. "I see…" she said, a small portion of disappointment in her tone. After carefully gnawing on her lip a little she looked back up at Cyrus. "You were… a gypsy?"

"Does that surprise you? Want me to tell your fortune?" Cyrus asked, letting his smirk return. Irene tilted her head.

"No."

"Good, because I don't know how. We weren't fortune tellers like everyone believed. Like I said, we were called Gypsies, but we weren't. We were just itinerant."

"You said home as if it weren't a home... were you in an orphanage?" Irene might be stuck with Cyrus for a long time, now. She might as well learn about him.

"No, no, I was never in an orphanage. I was raised by a scholar. Funny… I don't really remember his face anymore. I was just a toddler I think when I was taken from my heathen parents to be raised as a right and proper Christian. So of course my name had to be changed, though I didn't take on their family name. No, no. My guardian made sure to give me a Biblical name, but being a bit eccentric, I ended up being named Cyrus. I'm grateful for his wife's intercession, because originally he wanted to name me Methuselah. Although now that'd be apropos since I do plan on reaching one thousand years," Cyrus wore a wry smile as he reminisced. However he was suddenly brought out of his stupor as his eyes lit up with alertness. "Ahh we don't have time to bother about my past! We need to make a decision for sure on whether to check out this factory or not!"

"You're right. I want this to end. Only then can I even begin to provide for the few close ties I have left. I… I can't even think about what I will do with myself yet. Gabriel has to be dealt with first," Irene said, her tone becoming more and more acidic. Her eyes suddenly sharpened and the light flickered back into them under the hood of her furrowed brow.

"Then let me just get in contact with my people and arrange a rendezvous at the factory!" Cyrus said, quickly jumping to his feet and clapping with enthusiasm. Irene jumped from the sudden liveliness, and then drowned in her own horrors of what really WOULD happen if she survived this upcoming battle. What future could be afforded to her? Irene wasn't sure she wanted one.