A Life for a Life
The Exchange
The hotel sat not too far from the river that, in bygone days, had supplied the town with much of its amenities, and in later days, its infrastructure. As those times had begun, reached their zenith, and declined, the area had declined with it, becoming the ghetto-like region that plagues most large towns and cities. In recent years however, many of the old factory buildings and out-of-date businesses had been bulldozed, and new thoroughfares built to accommodate the brand new businesses and residences that had sprung up in the area with enticing deals from the local municipality to get the local economy pumping anew.
On the sixth floor, far from the prying eyes of the business types who flocked the first and second floor rooms, Sunset sat herself at the glass writing desk, absently running a beautiful red jewel between her fingers. She had been working steadily upon at it for several weeks, reading, researching, and finally engaging herself almost ceaselessly in the meticulous work of recreating them anew. The work was not insubstantial, but she knew that it would be worth it. She felt it in her gut, the anticipation of her reward wending its unknowing way here.
Every so often, Sunset looked at the door, or the clock. They weren’t late, not yet; the time was near though. Absently, she licked her lips, feeling the mixture of eagerness and discomfort. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t know if this was truly the right thing to do, or if right and wrong even featured into it. But she did know what she wanted, and if all went well, she would have it soon.
Ten minutes went by with nothing but the bustle of the traffic outside to distract her from her uncertain insides. For lack of any other occupation, she examined the red jewel again, and fell to thinking how remarkable it was that so much trouble had been stirred over such a small thing.
In theory, the stone wasn’t much. All it was when broken down to its base form was a receptacle for negative energy; following that, it was more or less up to the user what they did with that energy. It was, in Sunset’s opinion at any rate, somewhat unimaginative to simply use it to empower mass hypnosis. Much the most impressive thing was how complex the inner structure was. If somepony had ever sat down, and meticulously documented the minute details of exactly how a unicorn horn works, forms, and is structured, then Sunset just might have been able to believe that anyone could make such a thing as these jewels. For there was no doubt that they had been created.
A knock at the door broke Sunset gratefully from her postulating. With an eager half-step, she reached for the handle, and opened the door.
Tall, lithe, and as striking in appearance as water was wet, Adagio Dazzle stood in the doorway. While perhaps not as... individually dressed as she had been when Sunset had first met her, Adagio still cut an impressive figure. Her enormous hair large as life still floating behind her in long curls that seemed to defy gravity, it clashed marvellously with the bright purple shirt she wore. Although evidently going for a more casual look, Adagio’s natural vanity didn’t seem to allow her to go with anything less than the best; Sunset recognised the logo on the shirt, and knew that Adagio wanted everyone to see the expensiveness of it.
Without asking whether she could come in, Adagio sauntered over the threshold. Sunset absently noted the swagger apparently inherent in Adagio’s movements, and deduced that her fallen state had not tarnished her ever-high opinion of herself. Or perhaps it was the prospect of their deal that had her in such high spirits.
Despite this presumption of authority, Sunset couldn’t help but notice the signs of Adagio’s weakening. Sunset didn’t know the full details, but the loss of their pendants had affected the sirens in more ways than simply breaking their power. Every time she saw them, they seemed to age. But not in the conventional way.
Adagio was a power player, Sunset knew; all of her actions, no matter how minute, had a tiny message implied into each of them. Her sharp, impatient knock upon the door, her entering the room without speaking, her brief examination of the room; all of it was an ostentatious show of dominance. Sunset didn’t care; The dryness of her hair, the papery quality of the skin, and the slight edge to her movements, as though some of the more exuberant movements caused her discomfort, detracted from the imposing image Adagio was trying to project. Sunset repressed a sneer; this was business after all.
“Nice place,” Adagio commented vaguely, her eyes fixing onto the table.
Sunset had to stop herself smiling here. She’d chosen the hotel as a suitably neutral venue for the exchange, but despite this she knew that she held all of the cards. All of Adagio’s pretence at controlling this situation was, practically speaking, all for nothing.
“Please, sit down,” Sunset said politely, gesturing to the chair.
After running a thumb over the back of it for a moment, Adagio did indeed sit. Again, subtle insinuations jumped out at Sunset as she watched Adagio try to look her in the eye. Folded arms, outstretched legs, the slight lean.
This is going to be so much fun, Sunset’s inner voice chuckled.
“Where are the other two?” she asked.
“They lagged a little behind,” Adagio replied, waving a hand airily. “They’ll be along.”
Meaning she wants to speak to me alone.
Sunset leaned against the wall, not taking her eyes off of Adagio’s face. A small, arrogant smile played about Adagio’s mouth as her heavy-lidded eyes tried to ignore the glint of the jewels to her right. They were right within her grasp, and Sunset could tell that Adagio was really tempted to pick one of them up.
“I honestly didn’t think you could do it,” she said, looking at the jewels. “But just look here. Good as new.”
“More or less,” Sunset said shortly. “I wouldn’t try using them right away. Give them time to set properly or they might crack.”
“Of course, of course,” Adagio said, evidently not listening. She reached down, slender fingers reaching slowly for the cold stone gems. A golden hand reached down and plucked them away. It gave Sunset so much pleasure to see the subtle change in Adagio’s expression as the jewels were taken away.
“First things first,” Sunset reminded her. “I didn’t do this for free.”
“No,” Adagio said, leaning back. “I’m frankly surprised that you did it at all.” She allowed a smile to play about her face. “What will your friends say?”
“Thanks for the concern,” Sunset said calmly. “I’ll deal with that problem when it arises.”
“Fair enough,” Adagio shrugged. “But one thing does interest me in this whole affair.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, as though trying to see passed Sunset to something deeper. “It must be so exotic, having a condition like yours. How does blood taste, exactly? I’ve always heard it tastes like metal.”
“That, and a few other things,” Sunset nodded. “It grows on you.”
“I always thought that it’d taste different between different people,” Adagio said, smirking a little. “But my question really was... well, why her?”
“It didn’t have to be her,” Sunset answered in as casual a tone as she could. “I just don’t think that you were up to making that kind of personal sacrifice. And Aria’s just sour.”
Adagio laughed lightly. “Well, seen from that perspective, I see your point. It makes little difference to me, really. So long as I get what I want.”
“You’ll have your jewel back,” Sunset murmured, holding the jewel between her finger and thumb. “As soon as I’m paid. It couldn’t have come any later by the looks of it.”
Adagio stared at her. Unlike before, when her eyes seemed to want to move inexorably towards the jewel, they instead fixed shrewdly upon Sunset’s. Sunset rather thought that she was being scrutinised. The barb in her last comment was definitely not missed by Adagio. Sunset could see resentment in her eyes. Or perhaps she was just seeing it there because it amused her.
“Perhaps we should have come for you first,” Adagio said, almost as though to herself. “You’d have made the job easier.”
“What?” Sunset scoffed, grinning. “And share power? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“So you wouldn’t be interested at all?” Adagio went on, still watching her closely. “With your power and ours, I don’t see how anyone in this world could oppose us.”
“No thank you,” Sunset replied firmly. “I won’t betray my friends.”
Adagio laughed earnestly at this, a slightly unrestrained laugh breaking from her usual haughtiness. “Do they even know?” she chuckled, arms folded. “What you are, I mean.”
“What I am,” Sunset said musingly. “Hm. I can’t say, really. They knew me when I was a monster. A real monster.” She looked at Adagio directly in the eye. “Kind of what you were. What you want to be again.”
Adagio shrugged, as though she wouldn’t trouble herself to admit it. “So dramatic. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, they don’t know what I am,” Sunset said with a bite of impatience. “And it’s going to stay that way.”
“You say that as though you think I would tell them. Like I owe them anything. Like I have any interest in your tawdry little friendships.”
Sunset narrowed her eyes, catching the implication. “You’re cruel,” Sunset pointed out.
“I’m practical,” Adagio corrected. “I do things to get my way, and I do it the most direct way possible. I’m frankly surprised that I have to explain to someone like you the superficial nature of morality.”
“I’m not waxing philosophy with you, Adagio,” Sunset snapped. “When this deal is done, I frankly don’t want to see your face ever again.”
Adagio’s aloof smile tightened slightly. After a moment or two, she stood up, spreading her arms. “That’s fine with me. The way you’re speaking, it’s as though you think that I’m the one doing something monstrous.”
“You wouldn’t call trading someone’s life for power doing something monstrous?”
“Oh, certainly,” Adagio said dismissively. “But what’s that to what you are going to do?” She made her way around Sunset as she spoke, laying delicate fingers on Sunset’s shoulder. Sunset didn’t flinch, but stood still, patiently allowing Adagio her moment of monologuing. “I can only imagine what it must be like,” Adagio went on in a near whisper. “What do you do? Bite them? The neck? The wrist? The crook of the arm? I was around when Stoker and Le Fanu were writing. Word of warning: Never let writers interview you for their material, they get so clingy.”
“Do you enjoy hearing yourself talk?” Sunset asked staring straight ahead.
“Or perhaps you’re not patient enough for a simple bite,” Adagio went on, as though Sunset hadn’t spoken. “Tear the flesh away, let the blood pour out. Or maybe you’re more elegant; a clean cut with a kitchen knife would do the job nicely.”
Sunset gently knocked away Adagio’s hand. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said firmly. “I want my fee, and I want it now. As you probably know, these things aren’t yet as durable as they used to be.” So saying she held the jewel up again, cupping it in her hand. “It’d be so easy to just—”
Adagio laughed her cruel laugh. “It really is too bad that you won’t consider coming with us. It’d be refreshing.”
Sunset knew that Adagio had just been getting her own back for her earlier comment. It almost made her feel better to think how much it evidently tore at Adagio when she didn’t have things entirely her way. It put Sunset in mind of a spoiled child being told off for the very first time, trying to process the indignation through mean-spirited vengeance.
“They’ll be along any minute,” Adagio said with a sigh. “They weren’t that far behind me.” Not a second or two after she finished speaking, there came a knock at the door.
Ignoring the smug look of satisfaction on Adagio’s face for the well-placed timing, Sunset stepped by her and opened the door. Looking as moody as ever, Aria stood with her arms folded, Sonata behind her. Like Adagio, both Aria and Sonata had paled, like paintings left out in the sun, giving them an air of general ill-health.
Sunset’s eyes shifted sideways to fix on the latter, taking in the straight blue hair, the white and pink shirt, the decorative scarf around her neck, the pale blue shorts, and most noticeable of all, the look of shock on her paling face.
“S-Sunset?” Sonata gasped. “Wait, why is she—“
Aria didn’t respond, but took hold of her forearm and pulled her firmly across the threshold. Sunset stepped aside and allowed the door to close, still watching Sonata with an impassive expression. Adagio watched the scene with what seemed like mild amusement, whilst Aria simply scowled, not looking at anyone.
Sonata wrenched her arm from Aria’s grip, looking around at all of them with a bewildered air. “Adagio, what’s going on? Why is she here?”
Adagio didn’t respond, but instead looked inquiringly at Sunset. Sunset meanwhile, kept looking at Sonata, taking in the minute features. Remembering what Sonata had looked like when they’d first met, her more casual dress seemed almost out of place. Combined with her hair being down from its ponytail, she almost looked like a different person.
“Well?” Adagio asked, raising her eyebrows.
Sunset kept her waiting a moment or two longer than she strictly needed to, and then pulled the other jewel from her jeans pocket. She tossed the one to Adagio, and the other to Aria. Adagio’s eyes followed the flight pattern with a hunger that was almost indecent. When she caught it, she held it in one palm, gazing down at its blood-red surfaces with a glint of something primal in her eyes. Aria meanwhile caught hers with one brief glance, and then refolded her arms, still staring at the floor as though it’d done her a great personal wrong.
“The deal is done,” Sunset said.
“Adagio, say something,” Sonata said breathlessly. “What’s going on? Please tell me.”
“We have our lives back,” Adagio said offhandedly. “Let’s go.”
Aria moved automatically to the door and yanked it open; Sunset, watching her, noticed with a contemptuous curl of the lip, that she kept her eyes averted from anyone else in the room. She could tell the girl didn’t like the situation, but that didn’t excuse her for her part in it.
“Adagio!” Sonata said again with more urgency. “What’s going on? I thought that we—“ she stopped as Adagio turned to the door.
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” Adagio said with false-pleasantness to Sunset. “May we never meet again.” She looked back, a slightly twisted smile curling her lips. “Ever.”
“Same to you,” Sunset said flatly, still looking at Sonata.
Sonata, visibly shaking now, looked between Sunset and Adagio. “What business? What’s happening? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Adagio paused at the door, Aria moving out of sight down the hall.
“Sunset!” Sonata cried, her eyes shining. “Tell me what’s happening! Please, someone tell me!” She moved towards the door, reaching out for Adagio, but Sunset stepped forward and gently barred the way with her arm. Sonata swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on Adagio’s back. “Why?” she said faintly. “Why won’t anyone say anything?”
A short silence followed this, during which time Sunset watched Adagio’s back. Standing in the doorway facing away from them, it was impossible to tell what she was thinking, what expression she wore. Sonata, trembling and white, stared at her hopelessly.
“You’re... you’re leaving me here?” she whispered. “You have your gems back, and you’re leaving me here. With her. She’ll...” She shot Sunset a small frightened glance, and then burst recklessly forward. “I’ll die! She’s a vampire. You know that, and you’re still—“ She broke off as it became clear that Adagio wasn’t going to look back around. Sonata swallowed hard.
“Do I really mean so little to you?”
Adagio didn’t exactly reply to this. She lowered her head, and Sunset heard a small noise from her. Whether it was a sigh, a small laugh, or if Sunset had just imagined it, she didn’t know. Then she walked forward into the hallway, and the door swung shut behind her, leaving Sunset and Sonata in the semi-darkness of the hotel room.
Adagio walked sedately along the hallway, fingering the jewel in her palm. It was, in her opinion, not seemly to allow herself to seem disturbed at what she had done. It was beneath her to feel such vulgar things as regret or concern.
Passing Aria, who was leaning against the wall, she paused.
“It’s too late for second-thoughts now,” she said in a quietly mocking tone.
Aria made a disgusted noise. “Shut up,” she muttered, pushing ahead of her.
Adagio smirked and followed on, gazing down at the gem in her hand. She focused on the thing hard, filling her mind with its simple beauty, with the prospects of returned power, the renewal of her plans. There was no room for regrets, no time for soft emotions; she was the leader once again, and this time, there would be no stopping her.
“It’s the least we deserve,” she said, gripping the pendant hard so that her knuckles went white. “We deserve this. It’s what we deserve.”
Sunset watched Sonata, waiting for her to speak or act first. For the first few moments since Adagio had left, she simply stood there, white and afraid, staring blankly at the door. Then she seemed to come to herself a little.
“S-She left... they left me,” she muttered, staring at the carpet. “They... traded me. You fixed their pendants.”
Sunset said nothing, but simply stared at her implacably.
“T-They sold me!” she cried suddenly, tears sliding down her face. “Th-They knew—know what you’ll do to me. They know, and they—“
“Exchanged you for their pendants,” Sunset interrupted calmly. “For power, and their very lives.”
“But they know I’ll still die,” Sonata hiccupped. “They must have known that, one way or a-another, I’m going to die. They traded my life for theirs. Don’t...” She sniffed. “Don’t they care about me at all?”
Sunset looked at Sonata. Her shining eyes roved the floor, as though looking vainly for some alternate explanation, silvery tracks running down her dusky blue face. Sunset’s own expression didn’t change one iota as she stepped forward, and reached out a slender hand. Her fingers extended out to the scarf, slipping beneath it and lightly caressing the tender flesh there. Sonata stiffened, like a rabbit being sniffed by a wolf.
Sunset ran her hand over the slight irregularities where small scars bumped slightly over the otherwise perfect skin. Sonata didn’t flinch at her touch; she seemed almost petrified by Sunset’s predatory eyes.
“Sometimes,” she said quietly. “Fear makes us do strange things. Things that, usually, we might not think of doing.”
Sonata said nothing to this. After a little while, she sniffed a little, and then reached up to Sunset’s hand.
“You’re always so cold,” Sonata murmured, pulling the hand over her cheek.
Sunset allowed Sonata to run her hand over her cheek, and then her lips. The contours of Sonata’s lips and the slight dampness of the tears made Sunset’s fingers tingle. When Sonata brought the hand back down to her throat, the digits twitched unconsciously as they sensed the pulsing, the tell-tale throb of life beneath the tender skin. The sensation sent waves across Sunset’s body. Her previously dry mouth had moistened up again, and a phantom taste had appeared over her tongue.
“Well?” Sonata asked. “What will you do?”
Sunset almost smirked at this. But she kept her expression in check, careful not to break the atmosphere. Her hand crept sensuously up the side of Sonata’s neck, brushing passed her ear. For a moment or two she ran her fingers through the silky blue hair. Seeing the slight blush filter over Sonata’s face and up her throat made Sunset’s stomach squirm with anticipation. Almost unconsciously she ran her tongue light over her lips.
Her fingers tightened on the base of Sonata’s hair, feeling several strands tugged clear of their roots. Sonata let out a small whimper as her head was forced sideways. Sunset brought Sonata’s face close to her own, her lip curling into a malicious sneer.
“Since when do you get to say things like that to me?” she asked in a voice of deadly calm. “Don’t forget, I own you now.” She raised her other hand up and traced a tender line directly over Sonata’s carotid artery.
“P-Please, it—“ Sonata cried out as Sunset dragged her forward, shoving her roughly towards the bed. Almost tripping on a patch of uneven carpet, Sonata collapsed hard onto the bed, momentarily stunned with her hair stinging. The bed springs groaned, and Sonata felt a soft weight press down upon her back. She didn’t try to move, knowing that it was useless. Sunset’s generous chest pressed down onto her shoulder blades, and a faint, warm breeze at her ear told her that Sunset’s face was inches from her own.
“I can do anything I want to you,” she whispered. A cold hand touched the exposed skin at Sonata’s shoulder, and slowly pushed the fabric sideways as goosebumps erupted along her back. Sonata trembled, holding in a sob as hard as she could.
The hand moved, leaving an icy sensation lingering across Sonata’s neck and shoulder, and ran the length of the pink and white shirt.
“Even if you didn’t belong to me,” Sunset went on in a mesmerising purr, “what could possibly stop me from taking exactly what I want?”
The hand reached the shirt’s lowest hem, and with careful fingers, slipped up and under it. Sonata gasped and caught her breath as five frozen spots ran gently up her hip. Blinking tears out of her eyes, she gritted her teeth and pressed her face into the bed sheets.
“You don’t want me to?” Sunset asked, seizing Sonata’s right breast. Sonata squeaked in response, biting her lip trying to repress any sounds of distress. “Well, what about down here?” Sunset carried on sweetly. The hand lowered, edging closer, closer southwards. Coming to the edge of Sonata’s shorts, she could feel the fingers encountering resistance. The band was too tight; she couldn’t get in.
Sunset seized Sonata’s shoulder and pulled her around, shoving her roughly back against the bed before taking firm hold of the short’s rim.
“What are you going to do about it?” Sunset demanded, glaring into Sonata’s terrified eyes. Giving a tug, the button pinged off the shorts and disappeared over the side of the bed. She traced the edge of Sonata’s face with one hand, giving her a motherly smile “They sold you like some cheap whore, for power and their pathetic fear of mortality.” The other hand reached down, and as teasingly as a crack dealer dangling a bag of prime product before a desperate addict, traced a single finger over the counters in Sonata’s underpants. Sonata whimpered.
“Why cry when you know that there’s nothing that you can do about it?”
For several long moments, they remained frozen. Sonata, trembling and trapped, stared up at her captor, apparently unable to make a single noise. Sunset on the other hand, seemed to be waiting for Sonata to answer her.
As time went on, Sonata’s shaking subsided, and she swallowed.
“Sometimes,” she said, the edge of her lip quivering. “I think you’re a bit too good at that.”
Sunset paused as though considering this odd choice of words. Then she sat up, and a grin broke over her face.
“Sorry,” she sniggered. “I know how much it turns you on though.” She glanced downwards at the light pink knickers visible through Sonata’s broken shorts.
Sonata blushed and for a moment couldn’t quite meet Sunset’s eye. “Yeah, well... you didn’t have to snap the button off. I liked these shorts.”
“Oh come on, it wouldn’t be the first time,” Sunset said, leaning back over her. “I can sew it back on anyway.”
Smiling tenderly, their lips met, and Sunset felt Sonata’s arms insinuate themselves around her neck.
Being what she was, Sunset often sensed a displacement with time. But this was a different sort of temporal paralysis. Sonata’s proximity warmed her usually cold body, filling it like drink, making her draw in the smell of her skin, her hair, her everything. Everywhere she felt, everything her hands roved over pulsed with the pounding blood just beneath the skin.
“You’re intoxicating,” she breathed as she nipped at Sonata’s collarbone.
Sonata gave the ghost of a chuckle. “I bet you say that to all the victims.”
“Ah, yes,” Sunset purred, running her lips along Sonata’s jaw line. “My precious little victim. What trouble have you landed yourself in today, little one? Into the nest of some evil witch?”
“She’s more of a playful succubus when you get to know her,” Sonata replied wickedly, flinching a little as Sunset pinched at a private area.
“Oh, a succubus am I?” Sunset laughed. “I like that. How about I make a demon deal with you? You promise your undying love to me, and I’ll make this the best night of your life.”
“We made that deal last time,” Sonata giggled.
Sunset paused in tugging at the collar of Sonata’s shirt with her teeth, and frowned. “Oh yeah,” she said matter-of-factly. “Well, why don’t you come up with terms for our demonic contract?” She kissed Sonata briefly as the latter sat up. “It’s only fair, considering...” she tailed off, wondering if the subject wasn’t a little too fresh, a little too raw.
Sonata’s expression didn’t change, but she sat in silence for a few seconds with Sunset at her shoulder. Sunset waited, wondering if she hadn’t already gone too far.
Sonata sighed a little, and then stood up, walking over to the window. As is the fashion in modern hotels, the wall opposite to the room’s entrance was a large sliding glass door leading onto a small balcony. Sonata pulled the floor-length red curtain aside, and peered down into the night. Sunset watched her unhappily, trying to find something to say. But there didn’t seem to be anything to say.
After a rather awkward pause, Sunset ventured “I think people will be able to see you there.” She gave a light chuckle, since Sonata was half naked. Then she immediately felt stupid for making such a ridiculous joke. Fortunately, Sonata didn’t seem to have heard her.
“Do you think that they ever really cared about me?”
Sunset chewed her lip for a moment. “I think they must have,” she said. “I’m honestly not trying to defend them,” she said in response to Sonata’s pursed mouth. “I could tell that Aria wasn’t okay with the whole deal just by looking at her.”
“She didn’t try to stop it though,” Sonata said, glaring at the bright lights of the city below.
That’s what I thought, Sunset’s subconscious murmured.
“We’d been through so much together,” Sonata went on vaguely. “I just... just can’t believe they’d leave me like that.”
Sunset pushed herself off the bed, put her arms around Sonata’s chest, and rested her head in the crook of her neck.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened. But it’s what we wanted, right? We planned for this to happen.”
Sonata put a hand on Sunset’s forearm. “Yeah,” she sighed. “And it worked perfectly. I know it’s silly for me to feel this way, since I already knew it would turn out like this.”
“And besides,” Sunset went on, “You told me how scared they had been. I’m sure they were just desperate because they were afraid of dying. Also, I know we didn’t discuss this or anything, it really just kind of came to me...” She paused. Sonata looked around at her, and by the look on her face, Sunset thought that a guilty expression must have made its way across her own face.
“What?” Sonata asked, narrowing one eye.
Sunset hesitated, but she’d decided to tell Sonata the truth from the get-go. Sonata would find out sooner or later, and then she, Sunset, wouldn’t have been the one to tell her.
“When I fixed their pendants, I figured out that I could do it without giving them their powers back. Adagio and Aria basically just have normal life-spans now, so long as the pendants don’t break again.” She bit her lip, looking obliquely at Sonata, trying to gauge the mood. To her surprise, Sonata didn’t look angry, but thoughtful.
“We’re hundreds of years old,” Sonata mused. “To be honest, I thought it kind of silly for Adagio to worry so much about dying. We shouldn’t have lived this long, so I suppose it’s just kind of sudden.”
“I can imagine,” Sunset said cautiously.
Sonata smiled and nuzzled into Sunset’s chin. “You don’t have to be so nervous. To be honest,” she gave Sunset a wry look, “I kind of guessed you’d do something to stop them getting their powers back. You’d never let them hurt your friends again.”
“Oh geez,” Sunset chuckled, blushing. “You say it like that and it makes me sound all cool and heroic. You’re right though, but I couldn’t let you guys die either. Every time I saw you, you looked like you were wasting away.”
“We were. Speaking of which—” Sonata turned around, pulling Sunset close at the waist. “Where are we doing this?”
“In the bathroom.”
Sonata blinked, evidently surprised. “O-o-okay,” she said slowly, evidently confused. “Um, any particular reason?” She glanced at the bed. “Kinda thought we’d do this romantically.”
“Blood stains,” Sunset replied, giving Sonata an arch look. “I’d really rather not have to pay for, nor explain blood on the sheets.”
Sonata pulled back and gave a sigh. “Trust you to have a rational response.”
“Come on, it won’t be so bad,” Sunset said, taking her hand. “Let me show you.”
“Wow,” Sonata said flatly. “Just... wow. Cheesy much?”
Sunset scowled. She nudged some of the rose petals on the floor with her foot, and glanced momentarily at the ambient lighting.
“You wanted romantic, I tried for romantic,” she said grumpily.
“Rose petals?” Sonata asked, tittering. “Really? You big cliché, you.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t try,” Sunset muttered.
“And is that scented bath water?” she asked, stepping over to the bath and drawing in a huge breath.
“Are you going to strip, or what?” Sunset demanded, wanting to change the subject.
Sonata laughed. “Aww, I’m just teasing you. It’s about time I got my own back on you.”
Sunset hmm’d but made no other reply.
“Oh, come on, don’t be angry with me,” Sonata said pleadingly.
“I don’t know...” Sunset mewed. “I worked pretty hard on all of this, and you making fun of me for it?” She shook her head and folded her arms. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood now.”
“You always have to get the last tease, don’t you?” Sonata grumbled. “Fine, but just remember one thing.”
Sunset’s haughty disinterest waned just enough to make her look around, and fall right into Sonata’s trap. At her feet fell a small bundle of white and pink fabric, which pulled Sunset’s eye-sight instantly to it. Realising what it was, Sunset’s gaze rose slowly upwards, tracing up Sonata’s sock-clad feet, up to her damp knickers, along her slender stomach, and still further up to—
“You weren’t wearing a bra,” Sunset noted, her eyes wandering over the exposed shoulders, the deliberately placed forearm, and finally the look of gloating triumph on Sonata’s face.
“You keep teasing me,” Sonata said, smirking, “and maybe I decide to keep these to myself.”
Sunset narrowed her eyes. “You evil little temptress,” she sneered, closing the gap between them. “But you seem to be forgetting that I own you. So by extension,” she said, pulling gently at Sonata’s covering forearm, “I own these as well.”
“Oh yeah?” Sonata countered. “Speaking like that, I don’t think you read the small print.”
Sunset’s tugging hand paused. Her lip curled. “Damn it, you’re right,” she cursed. “I never read the small print. Fine, what do you want?”
“I think a fair exchange is in order,” Sonata grinned. “Yours for mine.”
Sunset held in a laugh, and forced a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, you drive a hard bargain, Sonata Dusk,” she said forlornly. “But, if it must be...” She stepped back, and with her eyes firmly on Sonata’s face, unzipped the front of her leather jacket. It entertained her greatly to see Sonata try to keep her eyes locked with her own, but with every subtle movement, every small noise, the deep magenta flickered like light in a gem as her eyes darted for a split second down. Once she’d peeled away the jacket, she pulled up the thin blue shirt she was wearing underneath it, leaving nothing but a lacy black bra.
“You were wearing one,” Sonata commented.
“I put a lock on my valuables,” Sunset chided her. “Also it’s awkward when they don’t stay still.”
“I’m not complaining,” Sonata said in a would-be-innocent voice.
“Oh, I bet,” Sunset grinned. Suddenly her smile dimmed, and she looked at the bath steaming beside them. Being an upper-class affair, the bath wasn’t the cheap acrylic sort one usually finds in hotels, but off-white enamel, an expense borne by the hotel as an excuse to charge more. In the ambient lighting, its usual blue tint was lost in a warm orange.
Sunset’s thoughts went back, for the first time, to those she was having before Adagio had first arrived. Questions, doubts, and a confusion in her heart as to whether what she had done, and was going to do, were right.
“Uh oh,” Sonata said, a sad smile playing across her mouth. “I know that look.”
“I just... I don’t know. Are you sure that you want to go through with this?”
Sonata frowned. For the first time, she looked angry. “We already decided this,” she said, fixing her eyes on a particular rose petal on the floor.
“I-I know we did,” Sunset stammered quickly. “I just... wondered if—“
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Sonata said firmly. She looked up, and suddenly looked apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging herself convulsively. “I know what I said about the other two, but I... I have to admit, I’m kinda scared too.” After a short pause, she added “To die, I mean.” She looked up again, an innocent sort of smile burgeoning across her mouth. “I can hardly spend time with you if I’m dead.”
Sunset tried to reciprocate the smile at this instant of jocularity. She reached out and took Sonata’s free hand. “Let’s do it then. I just didn’t want to push you into anything you didn’t want to do.” She ran a thumb over the pale skin of Sonata’s hand. The skin was slightly dry, the veins more easily visible than they should have been. Sunset hated seeing Sonata like this; so thin and faded. She knew that before long, it’d start to affect her physically, slowing her movements, draining her of colour. It would be long and slow, if her research had been right, and would certainly have ended in death. “I could still have fixed your pendant too.”
“I chose this, remember?” Sonata reminded her, putting her other hand on top of Sunset’s.
“You did, yes,” Sunset said quickly. “I just thought that maybe you might change your mind, and I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t—“
Sonata brought Sunset’s hand up, and insinuated the fingers over her throat again. Sunset felt the small scars there, souvenirs of their past meetings.
“I have no regrets,” Sonata said, looking Sunset in the eye.
Perhaps it was just her amor bias, but as Sunset looked back once again into Sonata’s magenta eyes, she thought how much brighter they looked than those of her sisters. Adagio’s and Aria’s seemed to have glazed over with murk, whether from hopelessness, despair, or simply the physical effects of their lost stones. But Sonata still seemed possessed of an inner sparkle glimmering in deep in the colour.
As Sunset lowered herself into the bath first, she couldn’t help but notice Sonata standing by, staring openly. She considered making a comment about taking a picture, but didn’t much feel like ruining the mood.
“Come on, your turn,” she said, beckoning with a finger.
Sonata eagerly obliged. Pulling off her socks and underpants, she skipped nimbly towards the edge of the bath and put a hand in.
“I don’t know,” she said pensively. “Seems kinda hot in there.”
“Get in here!” Sunset laughed, seizing Sonata’s arm.
“Hey, I thought we weren’t making a mess!” Sonata giggled, shaking her head of the hair sticking to it and looked around at the floor.
“We can worry about that later,” Sunset breathed, running her hands up Sonata’s hips. Sonata giggled again, and folded her arms around Sunset’s neck.
“Fine, but you’re cleaning the rose petals.”
The first kiss was full of the longing both of them had felt for the many months of their secretive relationship. Sunset had felt a reluctance on both sides, a fear of discovery, a reticence in knowing that they were both lying to their friends and loved ones. Now, they were free. Sunset’s friends had progressively discovered what was going on, and Sonata was free of her sister’s scrutiny. All that held them back was Sonata’s current mortality.
Sonata moaned as one of Sunset’s hands held her cheek, and the other groped at her chest. “I’m guessing you want me excited first,” she said, nuzzling into the hand.
“I think getting your blood pumping first would make it a more pleasurable experience,” Sunset said seductively.
“That, and you want to make me scream,” Sonata breathed, grinding a little into Sunset’s leg.
“Well,” Sunset said, lifting the leg a little suddenly. Sonata squeaked. “Yeah. That too.” Holding tight to Sonata’s middle, she gave one of Sonata’s nipples a tantalising lick, and then sucked it into her mouth.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Sonata grunted, pulling Sunset’s head up into another kiss. After tugging playfully at Sunset’s tongue, she added “After all, I know how you like to play.”
“Maybe,” Sunset shrugged, “but I don’t see how that’s going to help you.”
Before Sonata could retort, she budged at Sonata’s middle with both hands. Taking her meaning, Sonata gave Sunset an That’s not fair sort of look, raised herself out of the water a little, and settled down with her back to Sunset. Golden-skinned arms pulled her sharply down and held her in place. Giving a gasp of surprise, Sonata found herself quite powerless to move.
“Well then?” she said defiantly.
“I’m not sure I like my meals resisting me,” Sunset said in an off-hand sort of voice, although a tremor of dark humour resonated under the surface. “I think I need to teach you the pecking order.”
“If I was on the other side, I’d show you who’s pecking who,” Sonata muttered. “I’d be—Eeah!”
“Oh, please, do go on,” Sunset said, giving Sonata’s nipple a sharp pinch. “Oh, you were done?”
Sonata turned her head, her eyes glittering with giddy resentment. “Shut up and kiss me already.”
Sunset was happy to oblige. She smiled into the kiss as she felt Sonata’s tongue fighting for dominance, and promptly seized the tongue with her lips. Sonata’s little “Umph!” of surprise made Sunset want to tantalise the poor girl some more, but she herself was getting impatient too. Pulling her tongue from Sonata’s mouth, she broke the thin string of saliva between them and began nibbling at her shoulder. At the same time, her hand sank stealthily under the water and worked its way between Sonata’s legs, her other hand continuing its work over her chest. The effects were immediate and pleasing. Sonata’s entire body tensed and then instantly relaxed, every muscle loosening out with the occasional spasm as Sunset hit another pleasure-inducing nerve.
“Ah! S-Sunset...!”
“And you said I was cheesy,” Sunset breathed evilly into Sonata’s ear.
“Not... ah! Not fair!”
“And when did this delusion of fairness take hold of you?” Sunset chuckled, pressing two fingers deeper into Sonata’s sensitive spot. Sonata might have responded, but it was hard to tell beyond all the strangled whimpering. “Oh wait, that’s not delusions, that’s me.”
“Oh god!” Sonata cried, although if this was in response to Sunset’s comment or not it was difficult to say. “D-Don’t stop!” she gasped. “Well, the banter you can stop, but not the—Eek!”
Deeper. A third finger. A tighter squeeze on the tender breast. A sharper bite at her reddened clavicle. It was a real effort not to use her fangs as she felt Sonata’s blood pumping harder against her beneath the skin, pulsing as her heart valiantly tried to keep up with her demanding muscles and surging nervous system. She was getting close, so close. Sunset just had to wait a little longer.
A thought buzzed across Sunset’s mind at this, a lingering doubt prompted by her building anticipation and seeds of greed.
“Are you sure you want this?” she whispered. “There’s no changing it af—“
Sunset stopped talking as Sonata’s left hand shot up and seized convulsively at the roots of Sunset’s hair just above her left ear. She glanced right, and saw Sonata’s left eye glaring steadily at her.
Sunset’s doubt abated.
“I love you,” she said quietly.
She let go of Sonata’s breast, and raised it to gently guide her chin upwards, exposing the tender flesh of her throat. The anticipation and greed that had been checked before resurged deep in her gut, a mixture of sexual arousal and primal hunger that left any pretence to human reason small and ill-at-ease. Her other hand still working furiously into Sonata’s walls, Sunset lapped hungrily at the thin blue skin laid bare before her, her teeth barely grazing it once, twice, a third time. Then she plunged, her fangs piercing deep. The first warm wash of blood was like the sweet taste of nectar after a month’s fasting.
Sonata’s entire body seized. The small, choked scream of mingled pain and pleasure sent a fire through Sunset’s veins, driving the tentative predatory instinct enticed by the metallic tang of blood out of her subconscious. Ignoring the sudden death-grip on her hair, Sunset latched firmly around Sonata’s middle as the latter’s orgasm came to a prolonged, shuddering end.
Gasping shallow breaths, Sonata’s grip on Sunset’s hair lessened, and finally fell away with a little splash into the bathwater. As Sunset drank up the last drops of blood, she suddenly became aware of the stillness in Sonata’s chest. The animal-like urges, the predatory longing, subsided as her senses reasserted her natural reason, and she became fully conscious of her actions in her own mind.
She waited for a moment or two to see if she would succumb to sorrow, anger, or regret. Holding onto Sonata’s unmoving body in the warmth of the bath, knowing that it had all been her, Sonata’s, wish, her insistence, she had to admit that she felt none of it. At most, she thought that she felt a small stab of loss. Loss for something beautiful that had been, something that had given way to a new and uncertain future.
Sunset looked down. The bathwater dark and murky, contaminated by the trails of crimson flowers spiralling from the shimmering trails running down Sonata’s arm and chest.
For a moment, Sunset sat there, holding onto the unnaturally still body of her lover, staring into her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly agape so that her front teeth were visible. Apart from a slight creasing of her eyebrows, she looked almost peaceful, even relaxed.
“I’m glad that you’ll be staying with me,” Sunset whispered, cupping a hand to Sonata’s face. “I don’t think I could do without your constant backchat and cheerful nonsense.”
Smiling to herself, she gently parted Sonata’s mouth a little with her thumb. Lifting her by her back, she brought Sonata’s face closer, subtly biting at her own tongue with one sharp canine. With Sonata inert and unresponsive, it didn’t much feel like a kiss to Sunset, but it gave her comfort to imagine Sonata simply sleeping.
Wrapped in a dark red bathrobe, Sunset cleaned the trails of blood from the shoulder and chest, and lifted Sonata delicately from the empty bath. Drying her with a white towel, she carefully wrapped her long, blue hair in it, and carried her in both arms to the main room.
She honestly felt a little silly arranging Sonata so carefully on the bed. The silvery light of the night was filtering down through the space Sonata had made in the curtain, bathing the bed in a dim radiance. She knew that Sonata would laugh at her for being so meticulous.
I was dead! she would say. Was I going to feel uncomfortable or something? Then she’d laugh that spirited, almost uncontrollable laughter of hers, and Sunset’s heart would lighten merely at the sound of it. It made Sunset feel better just thinking about it.
It gave Sunset a moment’s pause as she simply stared down at her lover, lying so elegantly on the bed. In life she was the embodiment of disorganisation, cheer, and whimsical fun. In death, she formed a striking contrast with this image of her. Her whitened skin and frail appearance gave her a sort of sad beauty that seemed so foreign to everything Sunset knew of her, but not unwelcome. This body was merely a transition, a temporary melancholy, precluding the return of the girl she knew and loved.
“Come back to me soon,” she said softly, kissing Sonata’s forehead, before walking to the desk. Seating herself there, with Sonata’s body bathed in starlight, Sunset remembered wryly when she last sat here only hours ago, waiting for Sonata’s arrival.
“At least this time,” she said with a small smile, “I’ll have something pretty to look at while I wait.”
- The End