“Does it unnerve you to see your face on a male body that is not your own?” she paused for a moment, wondering how to best answer that question. Looking up into those amber eyes, her amber eyes. The eyes where the thing that perhaps most made her think of herself. She looked away almost as quickly as she had initially looked. “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t” she said softly, almost as if her mind was elsewhere, “Isn’t that the usual response? You’re other partners must have felt the unease of seeing themselves as well”

When they re-entered the studio the first thought that ran through Blaire’s head was to note that Warren had changed rather quickly but then she reminded herself, he’s a vampire. She had nodded, without saying a word when he mention that she needed to be absolutely silent. She watched as Vincent cut his hand and then let it bleed freely into a bowl that Warren had held out and had to put her hand over her mouth to stop her from gasping. It took all her strength not to leave the window seat when Vincent went rigid however. His eyes, she thought. His eyes aren’t seeing what’s here. Is that the magic? Was he seeing Lewis? She closed her eyes and tried not to look at Vincent’s eyes that where so distant.


__________________________________________________ _____

Alice paced the room in anger. It was taking far to long to break one old man, the prince was holding on to him way too tightly. Perhaps he was a better prince then she was going to make him for, but no matter, she would win in the end. Alice Delorenza was not a girl who ever lost when she had her eyes on the prize. As she paced the room one more time she barked at one of her, a smirk played her lips for a moment, her followers where dispensable, nothing more then minions to do her bidding. “Haven’t you broken the man yet!” Her voice which was a rich as a chocolate cake was also held an accent of foriegn decent.

The minion cowered at her obvious rage, “W..We….h…h..have’t stopped trying Mistress”

She rose her hand to slap him hard across the face, weakling, “Trying doesn’t get me the throne now does it” she nearly spat out in rage. She walked past, purposefully stepping on his toes with one of her luscious red heels. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself”

It only took her a short while to reach the room where the old man was now reeling on the floor, barely clinging to life. Close, she thought to herself, but not close enough. She could see that blood now trickled down the man’s face. Good, she thought to herself, the prince was letting him go. She knelt down before the broken, desperate man. “Dearest human” she said in a manner that was full of the venom that her words did not portray. “Such a waste” she ran a finger across his cheek to pick up a small trickle of the blood running down it. She licked her finger as if to show who she was, “Such a shame that tonight will be your last”