Caroline waited for the hit to come, conceiving the idea that it was because her head was bent, her face was covered and it was not the aim for her head but her face. The light still stayed stiff and nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have happened. She heard some struggles and stifled screams, and when she did raise her head to know what what's happening, Primrose's lifeless body fell to her feet.
Her body flew backward to the wall as the unmoving body dripped red liquid down her neck. And when she did look up to see the enemy behind the seeming savior mask, his unwavering gaze hit and stung her.
The noise, the shouts, everything was calm. Nothing in the district at the moment where she was with the man she knew not or banked, seemed to be of existence. The man and his kind had deprived her and her entire district of the life they so had, so cherished, worked tirelessly, undesirably to make peaceful and comfortable. The life that she could at her position not know where it lay. Saved was the life from one to be ended by another. And God knows that if that torch was not blowing wide, she would have gone for the empty torch that laid few ground spaces from her.
" She was very persistent ". She heard him say. She chose to place doubts about the sentence.
Persistent?. How persistent?. Like Primrose had said, she was their prey. A sufficient one. One wanted her head and the other, her blood.
Edgar found himself standing mesmerized at the doll beauty before him. He was speechless, breathless, she was indeed breathtaking. Her skin was as white as they had said and her hair as red as fire. It burned into his soul. He waited for her like he would on his thing so precious and important to come. And as she parted her lips to speak, his heart skipped some beats.
" Thank you! ". She voiced, drifting his thoughts filthy. And all he imagined was her melodious voice with the moans.
He collected himself timely. " That would justify then that you owe me ". He offered her his hand when he saw her trying to get up. To his surprise, a smile crookedly made its way to his face.
Caroline's face was thoroughly confused as she saw the hand offered to her, although he had tried to act nice now, her strong wits and survival instinct, kicked in. And though he tried to be a gentleman, this gentleman and his men wiped out her village. And when her hand moved against her will, she pushed it down again. Better safe than sorry, could not and would not work here. As accepting or rejecting his offer would do her no good or put her on the safer side.
Edgar forcefully retracted his fangs, his claws, and his black pupil which had turned blood red earlier. " Ok then, if you are tired and have tried, you can stand ". He sounded like he was giving up and turned his back to leave. Standing there might kill his resolve. Her wound was unattended to and the blood that ooze out of it came with a smell so sweet and alluring.
Caroline saw him turn his back and that was when the hand chose to fall to the ground. The wound trapped dust from the ground, causing it to itch and ache the more. With his few steps away from her, she sought for a better, less painful, less gathering-dust-way to rise, unaided.
The floor when dried was easy for her to walk on, but with her blood dripping, she missed her footing or rather slipped it. Her bottom would have hit the ground hard not for the quick intervention of her enemy whose name she would rather prefer not to know. To catch her, he slipped his hand under her waist. Sparks flew.
" Don't let your stubbornness get in the way, next time be more careful else it will be the end of the road for you ". Caroline was much bewildered at what transpired between her and the vampire that when he removed his hand to guide her to her feet again, the blood doubled with her clumsiness, and took her almost off the ground.
She had to give him a nod to show she was alright, nonetheless, the blood that fell in drops streamed down her arm.
" You tend to that before it gets worst ".
Caroline heard him say as he walked to the door and out. She looked at the wound. It was piled with dust.
In his absence, she noticed the torch still burning at the side, held in a clasp on the wall. To her left, Primrose's still body lay on the cold floor with dried blood splattered on her neck and two dots from which those blood coats when fresh, flowed. Her body had turned pale and her lips lost their color. The front door opening reminded her that she was with someone. An enemy but he had saved and even professed that she owed him and from the mellowed tone he spoke with, her debt was not of the outrageous side.
Edgar took a long leap from the door to the outside, his legs landing him on the ground, he exhaled and sucked in the clearer air. And though it was polluted with the smoke that erupted from the houses, he preferred it and breathed it still. It was more convenient.
Back in the house, the aroma of her blood wafted in the air and very tempting it was that it took all his willpower to not dash to her and suck her dry. And when he was about to step out of the room, he rubbed the white powder in his possession below the bridge of his nose to block the smell of her blood temporarily, but who knew he would be catching her from falling and that the powder effect would wear off quickly, making her blood even more tempting.
He only hoped she had cleaned the wound up when he heard the footsteps behind him and saw the felt the heat of the light. If she was going to follow him, the torchlight won't be needed and her wound should be properly dressed.