28. Amber Hart
The currents of Aventure are as familiar to Amber as the back of her hand, the inside of her eyelids. And she's always the center of them. And ever since Marie learned - presumably from Luke - that Amber isn't to be fucked with, the sorority girl has stayed well away from the eye of the storm. But tonight she walks up to Amber, right in the middle with her conversation with a delightfully genuinely counterculture art major who was deeply intrigued by the idea of painting her solely in shades of her hair color. "Miss Hart..." she begins, clearly having to bite her tongue to get the polite address out, "Luke wants to see you. He said it's an emergency."
An emergenc- by the time she's finished the thought, she realizes it must be related to Marcus. "Ah, sorry Ketsy. We'll have to finish later," Amber dismisses her little art major. Cute, but she's not about to ignore another vampire's distress over a bit of flirting. She sits up straight, leaning forward in the couch, a clear sign that Marie has her full attention and is being taken seriously. "What happened?"
Marie rubs her left arm seemingly unconsciously, her discomfort overcoming her dislike of Amber. "It um... he... he wants to see you about it. To talk in person." She can't make eye contact with Amber. Something is clearly really bothering her.
Amber stands, taking a glance around the club to see who's noticed her conversation and what they think of it, if she needs to adjust the mood at all as she makes her exit. Doesn't look like it. Having Marie obviously genuinely distraught and leaving with her should go over fine. "Let's go. Where is he?"
"The basement of Phi Kappa Kappa. They're all at another party, so we have privacy. That's uh..." She turns to Amber as they leave the club. "Did you tell him not to hurt me?" She asks in a whispered, urgent voice. "I just- I need to know. Was it you?"
"What? No, we haven't spoken in weeks." Amber puts a hand on her shoulder, turning the other woman to face her. She hasn't seen Luke since she helped him with his blood issue, nor Marcus since their one-night stand. "What's wrong, Marie?"
Marie shakes her head. "You'll find out." She murmurs, brushing back a lock of strawberry blonde hair. Her palm is slightly scraped up, like she had a bit of a fall tonight, maybe the night before. This close, Amber can smell the subtle aroma of blood from the tiny cuts.
"Ok." Amber lets her go, not wanting to push the issue. Luke will have answers for her, and she's not scared of his anger. "Ok." She resumes following.
The frat house is, as promised, dark and empty, though the back door into the kitchen is unlocked. Marie leads Amber through it hurriedly, closing and locking the door behind them. Perhaps not the best sign for Luke's mood. They descend into the basement, a rec room with most of its furniture temporarily shoved aside to make an open space under the room's lighting, where Amber can hear one heartbeat, pounding away - and she can taste the comforting scent of blood, spiked with adrenaline, in the air. Marcus's blood.
Marie stands to the side, head down, looking anywhere but at the center of the room, where Luke stands, dressed in leather from head-to-toe except for a black t-shirt under his jacket. His hair is mussed, and not in the stylish way he seems to prefer - more like someone who actually got into some strenuous activity. And in the center of the basement, slumped over in a chair and tied to it at wrists and ankles with electrical extension cords, is Marcus. He looks like he's been smacked around pretty badly, his shirt stained with sweat and blood alike, multiple cuts open on his face with a motley of bruises visible. Both men look over at their descent, Marcus wearily and Luke with a wide grin, empty of warmth. "And the woman of the hour!" He says loudly, gesturing to Amber like a showman.
"Hello, Luke," Amber greets him, sparing only a glance for Marcus. She warned him this was a bad idea. Told him it was a mistake. She's wearing a button-up white shirt with the first two buttons undone, black slacks, as if she'd come to Aventure directly from work - which is exactly what happened, of course, but the effect is entirely intentional. Like many things about her, the appearance of relaxing professional is only skin-deep, an act put on for the benefit of those around her. It worked well for students at a club, and it works even better here. If she had to pick an outfit to confront Luke and try and save Marcus' life, well, what she's wearing now is a pretty good choice.
"Hey hey hey, neighbor." Luke chuckles. "So, let me tell ya, this has been a bitch of a night." Marcus doesn't look at Amber, just staring straight ahead with a blank expression. "Now, I'm gonna paint you a picture. You ready? Great. So here I am bringing this absolute slut back to the house for a bit of the ol' classic moves." He grins widely and winks at Amber, though his smile still has no warmth to it. "You know how it goes. Anyway, I put a few moves on her, she didn't know what she wanted yet but I got her there. But then I get in the room, I've got myself aaaaall ready for the big moment, when this asshole-" He grabs Marcus by the hair, yanking his head back. Luke looks briefly irritated at his inability to get any response other than a grunt, but recovers and presses on. "Comes in trying to play hero. Damnedest thing. You get people like that now and then, someone who sees something and just can't. Let. It. Go." He throws Marcus's head forward, chuckling.
"He does look the gallant type. 'Didn't know what she wanted yet' isn't a good look, to most people," Amber observes dispassionately. It's a good thing Marcus isn't unconscious. If he survives this, and she's aiming for that outcome, then he'll remember her saving his life. "So you beat the shit out of each other."
"Now - now here's the thing. See, I tried to stop this whole problem with a little something special - but it didn't work! Man's got a mind like a steel wall." Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "So I'm in real trouble! I'm a lover not a fighter, y'feel?" He laughs and walks over to Marie, giving her a playful smack on the ass. She jumps, looking absolutely miserable for a moment before painting a smile on her face. "But then in comes Marie! See, she was keeping an eye on me like a good girl. And when she gets in the way, mystery asshole here pulls back." Luke looks positively delighted at this turn to his tale, conveying the story to his uncomfortable and captive audiences with relish. "Don't like to hit women, huh?" He asks Marcus.
"Your voice isn't nearly pleasant enough to justify how much you talk." Marcus finally looks at Luke, voice clipped and pained. Luke strikes him right across the face, laughing. "Look at you! Finally saying something!" Marcus doesn't further react. "So I, being a very smart, handsome, and capable sort of fellow, seize the moment!" Luke turns as if receiving applause from an imaginary crowd, hands in the air. "Now... way I see it, this guy knew too much. Someone had to be involved, telling him where to look. Or else he's some private eye type, been watching me for awhile. And I think I'd have noticed that. Don't you?" He asks Amber.
"He asked nicely, and I told him you hung around here sometimes, yes." Amber clicks her tongue, not really in the mood to deny her part in things. The truth usually comes out in the end, so it's best to own it if you can. She tilts her head, still distant and cold. "I also warned him away. Told him getting involved with you was a bad idea. He's been looking for you for a while though, I don't think you're wrong there."
Luke blinks, clearly not expecting Amber to just come out and say it. "Well - that's what-" He takes a moment to build up steam again. "Since I couldn't hear anything in this thick noggin of his, I had to get creative. And he smelled just like you. Thus why I invited you to this little tete-a-tete." Luke grins. "Don't worry, not in a physical way. I say smelled, but it's more like... intuition." He winks at Amber. Marcus closes his eyes for a long second, before returning to his blank expression. "Now, I'm gonna ask you once, and I want you to know I can tell if you lie to me - why did you set this motherfucker on me?" Suddenly he's deadly serious, his grin colder than ever, and his grip on Marie tight enough that Amber sees her wince. "Don't give me any shit about warning him away. You told a kine where to go looking for me. Why?"
"I didn't set him on you." She says it flat and straight, repeating it as the honest truth. "Because I was so sure he was there to cause me trouble, and it was a relief when he wasn't. I warned him away and washed my hands of the whole affair. I am up to here," she makes a gesture just below her hairline, "in problems right now, and I didn't want to make your shitty habits and the consequences as one of them."
Luke scowls, and Marie winces again. "You cost me a meal. You nearly got me fucked up. Maybe off to that last dive into the deep. And now I have to find that bitch I was going to eat and keep her quiet too. This is a major fucking problem, and all because you couldn't be neighborly and just say you didn't know anything." He finally releases Marie and stalks across the room towards Amber, getting far up in her personal space, a deliberate challenge. "Malicious or not, you fucked with me. You owe me."
"I don't owe you anything." Amber stands up straighter, completely cold, completely confident. She's not snarling. Snarling would be admitting that this affects her, that she's involved. She's not. Not any more than she chooses to be. Waves of disdain radiate from her as she brushes aside his challenge contemptuously. "I will help you out of your situation," she agrees. "I will explain to Marcus more firmly the error of his approach. And if you find your 'bitch,'" she uses the word contemptuously - who would speak about their prey like that? - "I will even help you smooth things over there."
"More firmly? More... The fucker attacked me. If it hadn't been for his own weakness and Marie blundering right into his way, I might be worse off than just hungry!" And he does snarl. "And you had the chance to lead him off down a nice dead end with a word. And instead you decided to fuck someone who's hunting one of your kind and give him directions. You're gonna need to do more than just fix what you fucked with to make this right."
Amber laughs. "What I fucked up? What're you going to do, kill him? 'Kine,' you said, 'hunting us'? What's that supposed to mean? Whatever you think you know about me, you've said way too much about yourself to just let him go." The play is obviously for Marcus' benefit rather than Luke's. "And where's that going to get you? Death at the sorority house, police investigation, attention?" Hopefully the implication of breaking the masquerade will be enough to snap him from anger to fear. "And this girl of yours too." Amber snaps her fingers. "'Make this right' isn't even in the cards, Luke Grey. You ought to be in damage-control mode, not lashing out at me."
Luke grits his teeth, clearly about to fire back something, when Marie slowly sidles up next to him, whispering in his ear. It doesn't go unnoticed by Amber that she presses her chest against his arm. Nothing obscene, nothing that the object of her attentions would think is deliberate... but Amber recognizes the mark of a fellow manipulator. She's pretty good. The vampire grits his teeth, but looks at Amber. "Fine then. Fine. You make sure I never see his face again and none of this ever comes to bother me. Marie and I can handle that slut. You do that, and we'll call it square over this whole fucking mess."
Amber frowns at his continued use of the term for his prey. It's just... not kosher, to talk that way about those that give of their lives to sustain yours. She gives a solid nod though, solidifying the bargain struck. "Marcus," she snaps, her tone imperious and commanding, demanding his attention and obedience to whatever she says next.
He looks slowly over at her, stormy grey eyes purposefully blank, a flat wall thrown up against the world outside his head. There's a stubborn sort of pride to the cast of his jaw, perhaps, or how his shoulders have straightened. Despite the bruises, the blood that's run down his face from the wound that presumably incapacitated him long enough to be tied up, he looks to Amber's keenest perceptions, the ones that hum deep under her skin in frenzied whispers of vampiric passions, like a threat. A threat and something... enticing. Unbroken, stubbornly clinging to his defenses despite the situation.
If she was alive, her mouth might be watering to taste his blood again. The rush of instinct remains just that, however. Amber is in control here. "Come." She looks to Marie, glancing down at the cords tying Marcus to the chair. Someone has to untie him, and it's clearly not going to be one of the vampires still busy posturing at each other. "And god help me, I will buy a gun and shoot you myself if you cause a ruckus on the way out."
Marie hurries to untie him and Marcus staggers to his feet, rubbing circulation back into his hands. He looks at Marie, who can't meet his eyes and steps away hurriedly. Luke grins at the man. "You got off lucky this time. Remember that."
Amber turns without another word and strides from the room. If Marcus doesn't follow, she... well, she won't actually buy a gun and shoot him. But he'll be the dumbest person she's ever met, and that's setting the bar pretty low.
Sure enough, Marcus follows Amber without a word, walking slowly and favoring his right leg. No one tries to stop them, and the house above is still dark and empty. The two exit back into the frigid winter air, which tastes sweet and freeing after the close, bloody stuffiness of the basement.
Marcus takes a deep, pained breath. "Thank you." He says quietly.
Amber remains quiet for another minute, leading him further away from that damned frat house. Vampiric hearing is excellent. Once they're down the block though, and around a corner, she lets out a sigh and slumps against a tree. "You're welcome. Fuck."
Marcus sits next to her with a grunt. "Whatever else... I recognize what you did for me. And I'm sorry I put you in that position. I... had intended to wait. Learn more. Be more ready. But... I couldn't just let him hurt her." He finally says with a sigh. "And then I hesitated."
"I meant what I said, Marcus. I gave him my word, and if you go after him again, I will kill you myself and then be in that fucker's debt for the next decade anyway." There's still a hint of sternness in her voice, but also far more humanity than she used speaking with Luke - she'd do it if he makes her, but she definitely doesn't want to.
Marcus looks at her, bruised and bloody. "And what about the next person he kills?"
"I don't care." She pauses, hesitates, corrects herself. "No, I do care. But I don't have a big enough dick to make it my life's work to fix Luke's fucked up attitude. Did you know I was kidnapped by a drug cartel last week?" She pauses and lets that sink in for a moment. "I've got enough enemies without adding him to the list. You want evil in the world to fix, I can point you at plenty. But not Luke. You're done with him." She turns to face him, raising a finger as he's about to respond. "If the next words out of your mouth aren't 'yes ma'am', then we are going to have a problem."
"Do we have a problem, Marcus?"
He doesn't answer for a time that stretches long enough to start worrying Amber. Marcus finally meets Amber's eyes to respond. "We don't have a problem, Amber. I can't make it right without making something else wrong for you." He brushes a bit of dried blood away from his eye, silent for a moment. "Do you want to talk about this cartel kidnapping?" He offers.
Amber can feel the temptation there, the sudden want. An offer of someone to listen. A friendly face in the cold winter evening. Someone outside her normal context, someone who cares. She buries it under a bitter laugh. "I lied, cheated and bluffed my way out of it. The fucker who 'wanted a word with me' got worse than you did. In case you haven't gotten the hint yet, I'm not a nicest sort of gal."
Marcus takes her offered arm and shoulder, warmth bleeding into Amber's dead body as he leans on her. "Perhaps." He murmurs. "You helped me. And I don't think you're as cold as you like to pretend." He looks at Amber. "Can I ask you something?"
"I might not answer," she agrees that he can in fact ask her something, as she helps him move towards the road. She works on her phone in her other hand, summoning a cab. Best take him back to his place. A smart cab driver won't ask questions. A stupid driver will ask questions, then forget he asked them a moment later.
"Why didn't you set me off course?" He asks quietly. "You warned me away, yes, but you still gave me the information I needed. And now I know more than I imagine you feel comfortable with."
"Because I like Luke about as much as I like a really bad sunburn." She shrugs. "Because you did a nice thing for a girl at my club. Because I'm sorry about what happened to your sister, or whoever it was, and if you'd killed him the world would probably have been a better place." The bitterness isn't entirely gone, but it's eased a little at the admission. She glances up at him for a moment, then looks away back to her phone. "You're right, I'm not quite the stone-cold bitch I play on TV."
Marcus chuckles softly. "Your secret's safe with me. Now... all that said... why did you sleep with me?" He chuckles again, one hand going to hold his ribs, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
Pretending to be mostly paying attention to her phone, she reaches around and slaps his ass. Yes yes, very nice. "Same reason any girl goes home with a guy after a party. Don't get your hopes up though, I've already got a girlfriend," she teases.
Marcus exhales out a laugh. "Damn. And here I was hoping for a tender moment while trying to treat my bruised ribs." He smiles at Amber. "Though I doubt I could give a faithful repeat performance tonight, given said ribs." He squeezes Amber's shoulders in a clumsy one-armed hug.
"Well, I've got a harem position open, if you're still interested," she replies with a flick on the ear. His ear's probably not bruised. "Ah, here we are." She waves at the approaching car and it pulls over for them. Amber opens the back door, gesturing him in.
"Well, when you put it like that, I'm always eager to be objectified." Marcus jokes, wincing as he lowers himself into the cab.