Ziva and I vowed to keep the injuries under wraps from both the ancient beings prowling the marble walls. She never explained to me what the thin septagram on my chest was, nor why she was crying with tears of joy at its presence. her only explanation of a white witch left me with more questions than answers, and I grew restless and wary. Ziva tried to limit my movement as much as possible and snuck various over the counter painkillers for the mild muscle and joint pain caused by the wounds. She lied to the shadowy figures often looming by my room at all hours of the day that my pain was caused by hypertension. A stress related condition that flares up when someone is put through extreme stress or anxiety and causes the body to go sore. It had only been a day since I had seen the those men, but Ziva was cautious in dressing me so if they did come in they wouldn't see the marks. She has be dressed in a high necked baggy shirt to hide my throat and arms, and baggy sleep pants. So there I was, stuck in bed yet again in the pale room, being mocked by the laughing cherubs on the ceiling like little devils waiting to strike me from above. I could tell it was midday since golden light was streaming out of the open inch of window available from Elijah's tantrum, a cool breeze coming out with it. When they took me it was the beginning of autumn. The cold winter air was beginning to roll in as October rolled into November. My only sense of time was when Ziva would mention the day. I realized at that moment I missed Halloween-- one of my favorite holidays. I was so focused on waiting for the treatment from the witch that I had missed it. I was a little saddened, but I pushed it down. My mind was ripped away from soft knocking.
"Come in," I said, my voice hoarse from the soreness of the bruise making me feel a little strangled. Luca poked his head in-- instantly worried from my weakened voice.
"We got an update on the white witch hunt in America." He shuffled in, eyeing me warily from a distance as I wiggled myself deeper in the cloud soft bed. I perked up a bit, eager to do something other than drink blood and be on bed rest. He was frowning though, sniffing the air as he stared at my small form.
"The searched most states for anyone who would be able to help. They haven't had much luck so they are moving to Alaska in a last ditch effort." My heart instantly sunk in my throat and I could only look in my hands.
"There were no white witches at all?" I felt like everything was crumbling around me. Luca walked over to me so I could see him and stood there at a very good distance still. I thought it was strange as he was more than an arms length away but I stayed silent.
"There were, but none with the capability to heal your condition. We are not giving up though." Even though his voice was hopeful his eyes spoke volumes. His eyes were darkened and closed off, and he was fidgeting in place as if he was was prey trying to avoid a predator.
"Is everything okay?" I couldn't help but ask. He looked sour and was still smelling the air.
"Are you cold?" I was taken aback from his question but I was feeling a chill in my bones from the breeze. I nodded and he looked over to the closes off and broken window.
"You haven't hurt yourself trying to close off or remove that?" My instincts were ringing with alarm bells but I pursed my lips. The glass in my chest shivered at his dark and accusing gaze I tried to swallow my anxiety stuck in my throat but it was semi permanently stuck.
"No." My voice cracked from the stress and the pain. He raised one eyebrow and began scanning my features. His entire demeanor shifted and he seemed more predatory than I have ever seen him. I shivered and tried to shrink down, making my right sleeve ride up ever so slightly. His eyes instantly caught the movement and his nostrils flared. I thought that my cover had been blown and he had seen the bruises lining my wrist but he stayed quiet.
"I will let zio know so he can fix the window. Do you need water?" My throat was a little dry and I thought it would be strange for me to refuse so I nodded. He immediately turned around and walked out-- cold and distant like Elijah was the first time we met. It through me off and made dark feelings settle into my bones like a shadow creeping under my skin and settling in my body. His cold and rigid demeanor made the small cool breeze feel like a winter blizzard and I sank myself down into the bed trying to warm up my cold bones. Not even five minutes later the door opened only to be met with complete darkness. There was a anger and hatred radiating from the black hole in the door, enough to send a shiver down my spine and put me into a small cold sweat. Blood red orbs glowed with rage from the heart of the darkness, sending waves of heat from pure unadulterated rage flowing into the empty space The fireplace sputtered weakly, sending out a weak whimper of heat only a fraction from the one radiating from the dark being.
"How are you feeling?" Elijah's voice boomed from the darkness, the light peeking out from his seething form. Daylight finally broke his abysmal aura, finally fleshing out the being from the shadows standing in the doorway. His hair was disheveled, his black dress shirt and pants put on hasty and sloppily. Despite being a immortal being of chaos and beauty, he looked tired beneath tbe bubbling rage.
"Y-Yes I am." I stammered, shuddering at his overwhelming presence. It was if his rage was suffocating, plunging the world into darkness. I was trembling from the wave of emotions, shuddering at the power he was emanating. I had never felt like this. I felt like I could pinpoint every emotion and sense every danger being presented to me. Elijah stalked over to me, similarly to how a wolf stalked a rabbit in a dark winter forest. He clutched a mug made of black marble in his large and clenched fist, his razor like talons cutting into his hand as he tried not to break the mug but wanted to release some tension. The closer he got, the more I buried myself in the blankets as the overwhelming heat replaced with a frigid and murderous cold. He put the mug in front of my face, trying to soften his expression but it did no good. Gingerly I reached out, wrapping my tiny fingers around the mug. The gently brushed over his cold skin, feeling the muscles relax as I touched them the gentleness of a feather. His eyes never left mine, watching as I brought the mug to my lips and took a small sip of the tasteless liquid. He loomed over me, eyes darting around my face and body as I tried to conceal it. He opened his mouth a bit, sucking in his breath and panting softly as he was trying to find something that wasn't there. Or at least, was covered to his eyes.
"Thank you." I croaked, clearing my sore throat as Elijah twitched. His nostrils were flaring with rage, but he remained like a vigilante statue standing over me.
"Are you coming down with a cold?" His voice was warm but his gaze and body were like ice. I was too afraid to show him the wounds, worried about what would happen and how I would explain it. I just nodded at him, still like a newborn fawn under his concrete gaze. We stayed there for a moment, unmoving and silent as we were waiting for one of us to break. I blinked, and taking it as a sign of weakness he jumped on it. In a blink of an eye he was beside me, hands gently around my throat on my bare skin above my shirt, tilting my head up slightly. I gasped as his cold skin touched mine, his sharpened nails gently raking across my jawline. He was pressing the pads of his thumbs uncomfortable into the soft sit of my throat, feeling the muscles and lymph nodes under there.
"You're lymph nodes are inflamed, so you could be coming down with some sort of illness. Are you feeling any other symptoms? You feel colder than usual, tesoro." He used the nickname he gave to me, something I haven't heard in a while. He told me he meant fool and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the word.
"I'm just sore and have a sore throat. Ziva told me it was hypertension from Marie." Her name was like venom and it made me cough slightly, causing my throat to constrict. He seemed displeased as his cold fingers dances across my bare skin, pressing against my jaw and the tops of my cheekbones as he investigated my features. The delicates touches and attention to detail made the me blush, my red face now being investigated by the cold-blooded vampire.
"Are you sure there is nothing else?" His voice was edged with warning and his res eyes started to glow eerily. My body seemed captivated under his gaze, feeling entranced and drawn until all I could see was red-- boiling red. Before I could answer he placed his thumb over my bottom lip to hush me, the glow of his eyes intensifying.
"If you lie to me, there will be consequences without measure." My entire body melted and locked up at the same time. The more he spoke the farther into the blood red light I was sucked into. His harsh and cruel worlds set my limbs on fire and felt like chains were encircling me, shaking me to my very core. A whining and broken sound spilling from my lips.
"I-I---" I was struggling to find my words in the blinding blood light, not even realizing that he had taken the mug from my hands and placing it in the nightstand. He managed to push me down and now he was caging me to the bed, his forehead ghosting mine.
"I am cold." It was the only thing I could muster. The lights died down and I realized our position. He sighed as if in disappointment, but was also brimming with concern.
"I will get someone to fix your window and I will go grab you more blankets." He briefly touched his forehead to mine before soundlessly standing and running from the scene. I was bewildered and struggling to breathe. Red faced and embarrassed I couldn't help but grab the lip of my shirt and pulled it up-- feeling more exposed with more clothes on than if I was naked.