Baldwin’s Nightingale (Prologue)
Characters: Baldwin Montclair/OC
Timeframe: Before the S1 Finale, TV Show canon only (haven’t read the books yet)
Summary: Daemon violinist Alisha Black meets the enigmatic Baldwin Montclair during the intermission of a performance and finds herself trusting him after he intervenes with a disgruntled former colleague.
Once was unusual, twice was disconcerting but the presence of a vampire at three of Alisha’s Concerta’s firmly falls into the category of alarming.
Unfortunately, the short smoke break in the alley behind the concert hall wasn’t quite helping to lower her stress level.
Having made first chair in the philharmonic she was already hyper aware of just how much rested on her and as a daemon, attention from any other creature, witch or vampire was entirely unwelcome.
It was definitely the same vampire, their stare was distinctive compared to the few she had experienced. Usually it felt like a focused, cold, laser but this was different. It was unnerving in how not unpleasant it was. Under the hot lights of the stage, the gentle blanket of loose packed, soft snow was welcome.
Hey,” the irate voice was all too familiar and it shook her from her reverie, “you’re blocking my calls now?” Alisha looks up to see Angelo approach.
Of all the problems she thought she’d have to deal with that night, a pissed off former first chair was not one of them.
“What are you doing here?” Alisha rolls her eyes in annoyance, not in the mood.
“I wanted to apologise, actually, but since you blocked my calls-“
“Bullshit,” Alisha hits back, “this is a very small business we’re in and I happen to know that you’re struggling to get a place anywhere.”
“I’m an idiot, I was up my own ass and when you got the chair it floored me, I said some things I regret. Please don’t ruin my career over a stupid mistake.”
“I’m not ruining anything, you chose to quit without notice and if nobody’s hiring you’ve only got yourself to blame. Now, please leave and do not contact me again.”
She only got the door open a small crack before he slammed it closed and pushed her against the hard brick wall of the alley, her knee connecting with the uneven masonry, causing her to full to her knees.
“Who the fuck are y-“ she heard him start from behind her, followed by a yelp of terror then nothing for a few seconds.
Here,” a second male, a voice she didn’t recognise, offered his hand from behind her. The scent of his expensive, subtle, aftershave joined the familiar, cool greeting of his gaze, “let me help you.”
She accepted his hand, cold, strong, and surprisingly gentle as he helped her to her feet.
When she turned to see her saviour, in full suit, long coat it hit her that he was the vampire she had sensed, it was him.
Doesn’t quite describe his presence and that is what hits her first. His aura, a warrior, a protector and a leader all in one.
“Where’s Angelo?” She blurts out, her mind blank to everything else.
“Does he know where you live?“ He asks, ignoring her question.
“Not as far as I know, why?”
“He ran off and although I’m not anticipating his return, I’ll have Jonathan add more security.”
“Jonathan, the company director?”
“Of course.” His eyes fixed hers before he glances down at her grazed knee.
“Baldwin Montclair,” he answers simply and she feels her breath catch in her throat as her heart thumps.
Not only is he a vampire but the head of the oldest and most powerful vampire family, the De Clermonts.
“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question and she knew it, he could obviously hear the frenetic pace of her heartbeat.
“And that you’re…yeah, I know who you are, which is why I should deal with this.” She gestured to the cut on her knee.
“Nonsense, I can control myself,” he reaches inside his jacket to produce a crisp, white, monogrammed handkerchief, “may I?”
She nods wordlessly and watch him go down on one knee before her, like a knight. He takes her hand and places it on his shoulder.
“For balance.” He explained and with one fluid motion he flicks off her heel and lifts her leg to rest her bare foot on his knee.
The dress she had chosen was just covering the graze and he glanced up, looking for her permission to move it which she also nodded at, whilst swallowing hard.
“It’s important to me that you say it.” He explains, patiently, his request for express consent harkening back to a more Chivalric time.
“Yes, Mr Montclair.” She answers as he carefully folds the hem of the dress away from the graze.
“Baldwin.” He corrects, his hand on her calf as he gently dabs the area.
The sharp sting of contact makes her inhale sharply but after a moment, it becomes soothing.
A concert hall back alley in New York City is not the most romantic location but this is easily the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her.
That was, until he helped her slip the shoe back on and brought to mind one very obvious fairytale.
When he stood, he removed his long overcoat.
“Why on earth would you come out here without a jacket?” He asked, holding his coat open to help her into it.
“I just stepped out for a cigarette and it’s kind of you to offer but I’m fine, really.” He tilts his head to the side, his gaze unrelenting and she feels compelled to comply, allowing him to wrap her in the warm, expensive wool of the dark coat, drowning her with it’s size.
There was a faint scent of what she could only vaguely identify as incense on the fabric, or maybe that was just him.
“You should go back inside. He’s not likely to return but I’d rather know you’re safe.” He answers whilst placing the phone he retrieved from his coat into an inside pocket.
“Will you be back,” she asks, “the concert…I mean, you’ve already been a few times.”
“I’ll be back in town in a week, dinner?”
“You eat?” She teased and saw the faintest flicker of amusement in his expression.
Alisha didn’t know how to reply. She wanted to trust him but her mentor’s deep distrust of both vampires and witches had somewhat coloured her perspective more than she thought it had.
Also, she knows how angry he’ll be if he finds out that she agreed to see him again.
“Drinks?” She relented and he nods in response.
“Excuse me?” She stares, shocked at the command.
“I tend not to repeat myself and I know you heard me.” His stern yet patient tone stirred something in her that threw her off balance momentarily.
“Don’t you think that’s kind of controlling, we’ve literally just met.”
“An embittered violinist is not the only danger to be found in a dark alley at night Little Nightingale.”
“Like a vampire?” She hit back at his condescension with a jibe and has to prevent the involuntary step back when he steps closer to her.
“No vampire would dare to so much as look in your direction with my scent on you.” Despite what seemed like such a lofty act of chivalry in offering his coat, the primal underpinning of marking one’s territory gave a head-spinning contradiction.
There was something strangely arousing - and infuriating - in being so viscerally claimed.
“One week.” He confirmed and held out his hand for hers. Without thinking, she obliged, watching as he raised it to his lips and bestowed a light kiss on the back of her hand.
“Oh, my phone’s inside, I don’t know my number.”
“No need, I know where to find you.” He gestured towards the stage door with a glance.
“Makes sense.” She agreed and headed back to the door.
“I am serious, about the smoking.” He warned.
“What? Are you going to put me over your knee as punishment?” She turned to deliver her jibe to his face.
“Don’t be absurd.” He answered, unfazed.
“Good.” She confirmed, feeling victorious over her push-back as she opened the door and stepped inside.
“It’s not punishment if you enjoy it!” He answered just as the door closed and locked.
By the time she swiped the security badge to unlock the door and answer his statement, she opened the door to an empty alley and found herself cursing both the vampire speed and their sense of drama.
Notes: Tame for this part but I intend for this to get hella smutty!!