Andrew walked outside their dorm, leaving his sisters do their own preparations. For the first time after almost a month, they had started acting again as a team, as a pack. A month. It's been almost thirty days since that disastrous hunt. The next hunt was approaching but Andrew wouldn't be there. He had to hunt someone else, something else. And this time, he had to be successful.

He realised he had taken the long road to the library once he came face to face with the sign, informing him he was walking down the Avenue of Champions. The route wasn't well lit at that time of the day, mostly using and taking advantage of the light of the buildings on each side of it, the light of the stars and the almost full moon, preponderating on the night sky. Slippery spots on the paved road, due to the afternoon shower, along with the absence of proper lighting would have caused one hell of a tumble to anyone but Andrew. He was walking with confidence down the road, his back straight, his stare fierce, feeling the postmeridian moisture falling upon his face, smelling the dozens of Honeysuckle Winter Beauty that were planted along the length of the Avenue of Champions, as they were sending their sweet aroma through his nose and straight to his brain. And as he was approaching the library another dominant scent overwhelmed him. The scent of her. The smell of her blood. Intimate and warm and mouthwatering. No other smell was important that moment. No other person had as much value as she did. Pearl.

Andrew stood outside the University's nest of knowlegde, his blood boiling inside his head, his eyes glistening with the fate he was about to face. He could hear his meninges  pounding loud and clear, the Silver girl's words echoing inside his mind. But he couldn't go back, not now. No matter what she would say, he knew how to fight back. The decision had been made and the plan should eventually move forward.

He entered the building, aware that they were probably the last ones being that late in the library. He could almost hear his footsteps echoing inside the six-storey edifice. The grand, mahogany desk of the back office was placed on the right side of the main entrance. Piles of books, documents and student records, three large Mac computers and two fax machines were covering the desk's surface. A young librarian, not older than twenty-five years old, was sitting half asleep in front of one of the Mac screens. Her blond hair was caught up in a bun, her round glasses about to fall from the edge of her french nose. The moment Andrew was about to cross the back office, her red eyes fixed upon him.

"Good evening," she said, her tone professional and strict, regardless her exhaustion. "The library closes in five minutes." Andrew turned around. The lilliputian, young woman was now standing across him, ferocity and severity altering her features.

"Good evening ma'am," Andrew responded, putting as much sweetness as possible in his voice. "Yes, I am aware of that. But my lab partner asked me to meet her here. She said she couldn't carry all the books we need for our assignment back to her dorm."
It was a white lie but the librarian didn't seem to notice. On the contrary, her eyes warmed up at the sound of his words.

"All right. But make it quick," she said, giving Andrew a piece of paper. "If I'm not here when you return, just fill in this form with the books you will borrow and their codes and place it in this box," she went on, showing him a small counter at the left side of the desk.

"Thank you so much! Have a nice night!" Andrew said and started moving fast towards the source of his torment; towards Pearl.

He looked at his black, leather watch, the fine material feeling soft on his left hand. It was two to ten. Meet me tonight at the library. Ten pm, sharp, her words echoed again inside his mind and Andrew found himself running between the endless corridors of the library's ground floor, with the enormous wooden bookcases, the oaken study tables and the smell of the timeworn books commingling with Pearl's red scent. The clock struck ten and Andrew found her sitting behind a small desk at the end of a dark corridor, only the moonlight spreading through the window wall behind her illuminating the pokey place. Andrew stood across her and Pearl lifted up her face, only to stare at him blankly with those grey, weeping eyes, sending chips of silver through his system.

"I was hoping you wouldn't come," she whispered, after a quite long moment of silence. She didn't bother to wipe away her tears. The lights of the stars and the moon were creating small kaleidoscopes on her wan face, setting the only colours that existed upon it at this very moment.

Andrew moved closer to the dark corner she was sitting and grabbed the empty chair right next to her. He sat down slowly, studying Pearl's face, her features and the ghosts that were dancing inside her eyes since the moment he came.

"You said you'd give me some answers. I thought I should be punctual. Especially if you are your father's daughter. Besides, it's not every day you see a bloodbath and your running partner leaves with no excuse, after they've specifically told you not to call the police, or at least the campus security," Andrew said, all in one breath. His words had the effect he was hoping for.

"First of all, I'm not you running partner. You can't even call yourself my acquaintance. Second, I told you not to call the police because, like I said this morning, I'd handle it. You should be thankful I spared you your innocence," Pearl hissed, her face only inches away from Andrews. Her eyes were still glowing, tears and anger and tension all mixed up inside their depths. "And third, what do you mean I am my father's daughter?" she asked an instant later, like the truth of something untouchable had hit her hard on the face; like she had realised she was someone else.

"You're always so friendly," Andrew said, ignoring her questions for a moment. "My apologies if I offended you by calling you my running partner. I thought we were over this already. Our wrong start I mean," he went on as Pearl lifted her eyebrows, the misgiving darkening her face. "I didn't question your capability of handling something, it's just that this kind of situation was completely out of our fragile hands. The police spends years to investigate, let alone find who is behind those sorts of monstrosities! Not calling the cops seemed like suicide to me this morning. And as for your third question, I wish I had a mirror right now. You'd understand how much you look like your father," Andrew whispered.

"You've seen my father, what, just once? And now you think you know him, let alone me?" Pearl growled, crossing her arms, her veins transparent on the upper side of her palms, the blood flowing inside them, confusing Andrew. "You should feel grateful," she murmured.

"Grateful for what? For coming here expecting to get some answers and all I get is a girl I hoped she could become my friend moping because she clearly didn't get the chance to spend her night in a club?" Andrew asked. His harsh tone was coming in complete contrast to his calm face, his eyes not blinking just once while he was talking.

"You want some answers? Fine! Just don't say I didn't warn you if this ends badly," Pearl hissed, fixing her gaze upon Andrew's. That's all he wanted. That's all he needed. They had lost too much time already. And yes, he knew this would end badly. He was just hoping that he'd be in the winning team.

"And not that it is any of your business, but I don't like clubs. I've actually never been to one," she went on, once she realised Andrew wouldn't talk until he had his explanation. "You see, my family has a quite specific destiny it has to fulfil. A specific heritage it has to honour. And it is a violent one. Violent, but delighted, when it serves its true purpose. My family has an old history. A history which was painted with blood and sacrifices. Because, believe it or not, there are more monsters out there than you can possibly imagine. That's why my father studied criminology. That's why I study criminology. Because I want justice. Because there are creatures, monstrous creatures out there, who think they are superior. They think that they're above the law. And I, under any circumstances, can accept that."

"So you and your family act as vigilantes?" Andrew asked. It was the most normal, human, question he could ask. He hadn't caused suspicions so far. The Silver girl was opening up to him, for what reason, he couldn't tell. "That doesn't make you any better than the real criminals though. Why don't you let the police handle it?"

"A fair question indeed," Pearl said, measuring his reactions. The fact that Andrew was looking at her half scared, half intrigued, but above all curious to find out the truth. "You witnessed a crime scene after all. Could you possibly trust me enough though and believe me if I told you that the police wouldn't be able to act in this case. They wouldn't be able to solve that kind of crime. I know I weren't the most welcoming person when we first met, but please, you need to trust me on this one. You don't wanna find yourself tangled up in this story."

"I trusted you enough to come here tonight. But to offer my trust freely to something like that... I'm not sure," Andrew muttered. He started playing anxiously with a frayed book that was placed on the study table all this time. A copy of In Cold Blood by Truman Capote.

Damn, you're good at this! Simza sang inside his head.

Get the hell out of my mind! Just let me do my job!

I will. But just so you know, someone's waiting for you, just outside the library.

Andrew tensed up. He was so focused on his discussion with Pearl, he hadn't heard, smelled or even felt the presence of someone else. What if it was the Pricolici? What would he do?

"Life never offered me something freely; never spared me one thing! There comes one day though when you realise you can't spare anything either. Because everything that should be gifted was taken from you long ago!" Pearl said. She took a deep breath, exhaling loudly, her forehead covered with sweat, her pulse echoing clearly inside the empty library. "You seem like a good guy. An innocent guy. I don't want to take this away from you. Let me protect you. I've already said to much. All I ask is that you let this incident pass, forget about it."

"First, I don't need your protection. And second you didn't say that much," Andrew started saying, looking at the terror taking shape upon Pearl's face. "However..." he whispered. He could swear he heard her heart skip a beat. "You must have a pretty good reason for not telling more. So, I'll let this pass. Just this once."

"Thank you," Pearl whispered, her face covered with relief, her eyes wet, as if she was ready to burst into tears.

"So you've really never been to a bar before?" Andrew asked in a light tone, defusing the tension that'd been gathered around them.

"No. I'm just eighteen. I wasn't goofing around with fake IDs, trying to sneak into bars when I was in High School. Man! What kind of girl you think I am?" Pearl asked, goggling her eyes in astonishment.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Andrew responded. They were sitting so close now. His arm touched hers just for a second, sending goosebumps down the spines of them both.

How tasty she must be, Andrew wondered silently.

"Come on!" he said and stood up. Pearl looked at him in disbelief. "You haven't been to a bar before and there's nothing better we could do right now. How about going to grab a bite and then going for drinks?"

"I don't know about the drinks..." she started saying. The disappointment on Andrew's face was like a punch on her stomach. "But I haven't eaten all day, so let's go. And we'll see," she breathed.

They started walking towards the main entrance of the building. They were in there for about an hour or so, all alone, as Andrew realised. Even the librarian was long gone by now. He stopped next to the back office, Pearl by his side freezing up exactly were she stood. Only then she saw him holding the copy of Capote's book, along with another piece of paper. Andrew moved closer to the desk, wrote something on his piece of paper and placed it inside the counter the librarian had shown him earlier. When he turned around, a small smirk was illuminating Pear's face.

"What?" Andrew asked naively. "This librarian seemed cruel. I don't wanna mess up with her!"

They walked outside the library, the fresh, night air cooling their faces, bringing all sorts of smells towards them. That's when Andrew got her scent. Rose, red velvet cake and cinnamon. The smells of his home. He felt her moving closer to them, her face still half hidden in the shadows.

Mother? What are you doing here? Andrew shouted inside his mother's mind, his face still looking like a mask of tranquility. Barbara moved an inch, following her son and the Silver girl, but still leaving a safety distance between them.

I'm trying to save you from a colossal mistake!

© Victoria Moschou. All Rights Reserved 2016-2017.