Twelfth from the Right – 'Crimson Starlight' Companion

Can be read alone, but it's really a companion piece to my Caius/Bella WIP 'Crimson Starlight' – it's up to you what you want to read (: I just write the bleedin' things.

LOOK HERE! LOOK HERE!

Vladimir: http : / / c . photoshelter . com / img-get / I0000IhJcENCf0Dk / s / 600 / 13-Men-goZOOMA-1458 . jpg

http : / / img . thoughts . com / 30l098n00r1bvsk . jpg

I couldn't find a perfect example of Vlad, but these two blokes might give ya more of an idea of what I'm going for (;

Stefan: http : / / www . brixpicks . com / wp-content / uploads / 2010 / 12 / marco-pierre-white . jpg

http : / / static . guim . co . uk / sys-images / Guardian / Pix / pictures / 2010 / 1 / 12 / 1263315558622 / Marco-Pierre-White-001 . jpg

A young, long-haired Marco Pierre White (;

Ylenia: http : / / blog . olyafirst . com / wp-content / uploads / 2011 / 02 / Hot-Christina-Hendricks . jpg

http : / / cdn . blogs . sheknows . com / celebsalon . sheknows . com / 2011 / 02 / christina-hendricks-hairstyle2 . jpg

That's right – Christina Hendricks (;

Victor: http : / / imstars . aufeminin . com / stars / fan / victor-webster / victor-webster-20061124-182191 . jpg

http : / / imstars . aufeminin . com / stars / fan / victor-webster / victor-webster-20070220-214667 . jpg

Yum, Victor Webster…(;

Just remember to take out the spaces before you hit return!

Enjoy!

The two orbs of burgundy burned him. "Well? Where were you?"

How could he tell him that he was out watching a peasant girl?

Pale lids narrowed deep-set eyes. "I can tell you have been to the village – you smell of dirt and the bakery."

Caught, he sighed, "I went to see someone."

"Who? Tell me, Vladimir."

"A woman, Stefan! A woman! Are you satisfied?"

Vladimir leapt up from his chair by the fire and stalked to the arched, glass-less window – the room they were in was mostly lit by the dying fire in the grey stone hearth, shedding orange light across the well-worn floorboards and simple wooden furnishings, but the moonlight filtering in through the window lit the rest.

Vladimir steadied his temper, caught one hand in the other behind his back, and tried to centre himself – he watched the silver leaves of the trees surrounding their cottage flicker in a soft breeze and the lights of the village beyond them glow brightly.

His long pale blonde hair shifted slightly, strands freeing themselves from the silken mass and dancing lightly against his jaw and the material of his black shirt. His pale skin shone in the moonlight, flawless to the human eye but made of knitted diamonds to the vampire. His cerise eyes did not waver from their point of focus, and the lights of the village were perfectly reflected in the dark red pools.

He wondered which light was hers, and at that thought his mind immediately calculated the likelihood of every possibility until it came up with the best answer – the twelfth from the right.

He did not like her so close to the edge of the village – the beasts drew nearer every day.

Stefan's voice cut through his thoughts. "You have never taken an interest before, brother."

Vladimir did not turn from the light that seemed to glow brighter than the rest. "This woman…she is different."

"You want her."

Vladimir sighed, "Yes, but–"

"That is not all," Stefan finished for him.

He finally turned to look at the other man – Stefan had turned in his seat to look over his shoulder at Vladimir, and his profile was illuminated by the moonlight.

The men were not related by blood but rather venom, and two people could not look so wholly different – where Vladimir was fair Stefan was dark, and where Vladimir was thinner and more delicate Stefan was muscular and strongly built with deep-set eyes, a patrician nose and full lips.

The corners of those lips were curled upwards in a smirk. "Are you seeking…permission to see this human?"

"Of course not," Vladimir snapped. "You asked where I was and I told you."

"Yes, but you have this…" Stefan lifted his hand and held it before his face as if he were putting on a mask. "…look, and it says differently."

Vladimir completely turned from the window and Stefan turned further in his chair.

Stefan gazed at Vladimir with a studious expression. "You look different – your stance, your…"

Vladimir shifted uncomfortably.

Stefan's eyes seemed to widen a fraction. "She is important."

"I said no such thing!"

"No, Vladimir, you did not – I did."

Vladimir frowned at Stefan as the other man stood and faced him – Stefan raised his left hand slowly, as if dealing with a cornered animal, and placed it on Vladimir's chest.

"I give you my permission to pursue this woman," Stefan murmured. "Whether you sought that permission or not. I can tell she has weaved a spell on you…and something tells me she will do something more…"

"Who's there?"

Blue eyes flashed beneath black lashes, and Vladimir was sure that he had never seen a more hypnotising gaze.

He pulled himself away from the stone wall, out of the shadows, and took one firm step towards the simply-dressed woman before him.

Her eyes widened a fraction.

Vladimir attempted a small smile, but the way the woman had caught him outside of her place of work and the way she was staring at him had him feeling…nervous and uneasy – he felt his smile twist.

How could a woman, let alone a human, have him in such knots?

Her long auburn curls swayed in a light midnight breeze, the ends brushing over the tatty grey shawl that was laid across her delicate shoulders, and while it took almost no effort for Vladimir to ignore the thrumming of blood in her veins, it was infinitely more difficult for him to ignore the warm apple and spice fragrance that was her scent carried to him on the wind.

"I've heard about you. You live in the old cottage."

Vladimir nodded. "That I do. I live with my brother."

"I've heard about him as well."

Her tone was not disapproving, nor scared, and Vladimir had to wonder why she was staring at him so…but he did not wonder long.

"The villagers are scared of you…and your eyes. I can see why. They're dark…so very dark… But they're beautiful."

Vladimir bared his teeth, and he saw his glittering smile reflected in the woman's charmed blue eyes.

Her slender, pale hand reached for him in the shadows.

"Where are you?" She sang.

Vladimir chuckled and stepped away from the wall, out of the shadows. "You always know."

"You scare the spiders." She smiled, pointing at the trail of the tiny black creatures skittering away from Vladimir in the cracks of the stone wall.

"I shall remember that for next time."

"Next time?"

"Next time," he confirmed softly. "But for now…I would like to know your name."

Her eyes sparkled. "Ylenia."

"So…you have a library?" Ylenia asked softly, her voice full of wonder.

Vladimir smiled. "A very small one. We had a larger one, in a larger house…but there was a fire."

She gasped.

"No one was injured."

She settled.

Vladimir pushed away the bitter thoughts that entered his mind – no, no one was injured…but many died…and all at the hands of the Volturi…

"I would love to see a library," Ylenia murmured.

"You could see mine," Vladimir offered tentatively. "You could borrow some of my books, if you wished."

Her face reddened and she looked away from him, down the street they were walking to her home. "No, thank you."

Vladimir frowned. "You dislike reading?"

"I… I can't read at all."

He paused, mid-step, and turned to Ylenia – she stilled too.

A lull drifted and passed.

"Then you shall learn."

His hand brushed hers softly, and Vladimir hid his discreet shiver of pleasure at the warmth and softness of her skin.

"Lower, Ylenia. That's right."

She smiled, her fingers gripping tightly. "This is right?"

Vladimir nodded, unable to speak.

The black ink from the fountain pen between Ylenia's fingers flowed swiftly across the splotch-covered page – her eyes were glowing with happiness at being able to complete the simple task of spelling her name.

He had discovered her inability to write as well as read on another of his journeys escorting Ylenia home to her widowed mother's house, and seeing the woman so happy before him… It was fulfilling.

Sitting at the wooden table in the small library, writing by yellow lamplight, he thought he had never seen her look so beautiful.

He allowed one finger to run down her pale cheek…to her neck…and then her collarbone, where Vladimir let his hand rest against her hot skin.

The pen scratched once more, noisily, before stopping completely.

Ylenia looked up. "You want something."

Vladimir raised his eyebrows silently.

"You want me."

His eyebrows dipped down. "Ylenia?"

She stood, swiftly, knocking back the wooden chair she had sat in a metre or so. "No one does something for nothing!"

Her blue eyes were alight, her pale skin was flushed, and the soft curves of her figure seemed even more striking in her plain blue camisole and long dark skirt with the way she was standing in her furious pose.

Vladimir tried not to gulp – it was the first time he had seen her as a sexual being in their month-long friendship, and it was a revelation.

He shook his head. "I would never…"

"Why don't you want me?"

He looked up, not knowing when he had looked down at the floor, and found her looking angry no more – her face was sad.

She came forward.

Vladimir could not take a step back – he was able to, but his body would not move further from hers.

Her heat washed over him and her scent filled his head.

"Want me," she whispered. "Please…"

Her hand came up and cupped his face – she seemed not to notice the difference in their temperatures.

Vladimir's lips twitched, fighting a smile at the fiery spirit within his Ylenia. "Since you said please…"

Her cherry lips curled upwards.

Stefan smiled down at Vladimir from his position standing at the top of the stairs. "Do try to be back as soon as possible tonight, brother."

Vladimir scowled. "Very funny."

"Well, you do seem to…linger after you have walked your lady home."

"Just to make sure she's safe."

Stefan laughed. "Of course."

His amusement died down as the sun sank over the horizon…and the full moon rose.

"Be careful," Stefan said more seriously.

Vladimir looked up at his brother and held his gaze for a moment…before nodding and departing.

Vladimir was quick to travel the road down to the village, to pass by the closed bakery and turn up the street towards the dress shop in which Ylenia worked.

Once he was stood in the small courtyard behind the shop and he could hear Ylenia's sweet humming as she worked he finally relaxed, before melting into the shadows of the stone wall behind him.

Lights went off, footsteps sounded, doors locked, and then she was stood before him in a knee-length white dress and her favourite grey shawl.

Vladimir smiled, knowing she couldn't see him but could feel his presence. "You look beautiful – all wrapped up in celestial light."

Ylenia smiled. "I–"

A sudden howl echoed through the darkened village, interrupting her…and others followed it.

Vladimir growled deeply, stepping out of the shadows and scenting the air – the strong stench of the werewolves swirled through the courtyard.

Ylenia's heart picked up in its beating. "Vladimir?"

"Come here," he murmured.

She immediately went to his side, gripping his hand in hers. He dimly felt the dried ink on her fingertips and knuckles, telling him she had been practising her handwriting once more – his pride sparked…just as he heard footsteps.

He frowned – footsteps?

Vladimir gently pulled Ylenia behind him slightly, for protection. Her hand gripped his tighter.

A shadow whipped around the corner, entering the courtyard, but Vladimir saw him for what he was as clear as day – though their condition gave werewolves vampiric qualities in their human form, they were never quite good enough to beat a vampire's senses.

Vladimir growled in warning.

The man paused…before smirking and stepping out of the shadows – his form was revealed in the mix of streetlight and moonlight, and Vladimir immediately saw that he was dressed for the Change.

He wore only a pair of hole-riddled trousers, faded from use at the knees and tattered to shreds at the bottom of the legs – his chest was bare, scar-scattered and muscled, and his hands were casually tucked into the pockets of his trousers. His loosely curled dark brown hair did not shine in the light, a tell-tale sign of lycanthropy, and from beneath his front few curls trailed a long pink scar down the side of his face – temple to jaw.

It had been a gift from the Hunter himself – Caius Volturi.

Vladimir very nearly laughed when he saw the man's eyes were hidden by large reflective sunglasses…until it struck him that the glasses were keeping the man from changing – he found the sight funny no longer, knowing as he did that it was the light from the moon directly shone into the eyes that turned a werewolf from man to beast. The flimsy pieces of plastic and cheap metal were all that was saving Ylenia from being torn to shreds.

The werewolf's bare feet made hardly any sound as he padded forward another foot or so.

"Enough," Vladimir ground out.

The werewolf's smirk turned into a broad smile, but he stopped nonetheless.

A lull hung between them for a moment, the only noise being the loud thumping of Ylenia's heart against Vladimir's back…

The werewolf licked his lips obscenely.

"What is your message, Victor?" Vladimir growled.

"You remember me," he murmured. "Good. Because I remember you."

"No, I know you. We have no personal history, so I have nothing to remember. And you remember others of my kind, not me."

"All vampires are alike, and you…you have the colour of his hair."

Victor was deranged – sadistic and mercurial, he was the leader of the pack and he had never been questioned in his position…and had only been challenged once, by Caius.

Vladimir hissed. "I am nothing like Caius Volturi."

Victor growled at the name, baring his teeth. "You all are, and you will all pay."

Vladimir felt Victor's attention flicker, though he could not see his eyes very well, and he tensed in front of Ylenia.

The werewolf's smile was filthy. "You will all pay. One way…or another. Take that message to your masters."

As he stepped back into the shadow, his fingers rising up to linger on the rim of the sunglasses in an obvious threat, Vladimir knew that everything would soon change. Things would be set into motion that could not be undone.

His fingers tightened on the slender ink-stained ones between his with a silent wish…that would never be answered – let her stay unharmed, and with me…

'Scary Mary' – Biffy Clyro

What must I have become,

To deserve all the shit that you gave me?

The rocks look like a body in the river…

Now I just wish that I could sleep,

To keep me from thinking,

But the thoughts keep me up.

It's been two months,

Since you taught me not to trust,

But you kept your promise.

You made patterns in my face,

You painted pictures with my tears.

And you did it again,

I knew that you would.

Thank you for showing me there's more…

Wash off your hands,

It's time to let go.

Release them…

Give time to your heart,

Give time to your soul.

Release them all…

Author's note: