The surreality of the situation wasn’t lost on Reza, stuck here holding a cat and being scolded for suggesting letting go of said cat. The relationship between this stranger and his cat was something else, with the feline’s will overruling anything the man might have to say about it. Yeah, Reza had been weak for his own kittens’ doe-eyes and begging but come on. Despite how ridiculous the whole thing was, Reza felt it was in his best interest to obey the barely veiled threat, trembling hand stroking down the length of the cat’s back. It rumbled like a small motor in his arms, blissfully unaffected by the tension between the two men. With a shaky nod, Reza agreed to the terms given, even as he wondered just how long this Gremory would need to be petted until she was done with him. Probably a while with the way her claws continued to settle into the leather jacket. Fuck.
So far, everything about this man had screamed slayer. The way he identified Reza, his look and general vibe and the very classy ‘remorseless bloodsucker’ jab. But every second spent standing here, nervous hands stroking Gremory’s peach fluff skin, made Reza doubt his initial assumption. Which meant he’d just blabbered out information about The Anarchs for no reason. “You can’t exactly blame me for being skittish,” Reza bit back, eyeing the way the leash between them grew subtly more slack. It took all of his restraint not to back away; at least the bike was still providing somewhat of a blockade between them.
His eyes averted from the questioning gaze when the stranger (non-surprisingly) began his questioning about the slayer involvement. Fuck. Reza was squirming now, feeling like he wanted to vanish through the ground under the microscopic attention he was receiving, Like the man was trying to see straight through him in an attempt to read his brain. Maybe he could read his brain and that was how he’d identified Reza’s undead nature. If that was the case, Reza really needed to shut his brain up. A disgruntled meow alerted him to the lack of attention Gremory was getting, Reza’s hands having stilled in a moment of panic as the questions started rolling out. He was quick to make it up to the cat, scratching over his head and visibly relaxing when the cat did. It obviously held the key to keeping this man -whatever he was- content.
“Or something,” Reza replied vaguely, really not wanting to give out any information that could get him in trouble. Well, more trouble than he was already in.
Finally, the confirmation Reza needed. Not a slayer. It wasn’t exactly the amount of information he would have preferred, something like ‘I’m an aura reader’ or ‘I can see into your brain’ would have been more helpful but at least Reza was safe from a staking. Probably. This guy didn’t look like the friendliest and the only things Reza had ruled out so far were slayer, werewolf (he just smelled like cat and cleanliness) and fellow vampire. The cat snuggled closer and with the weight of this stranger being a slayer lifted, Reza found himself once again kind of enjoying the feel of purring in his arms.
Startling back at the hand sticking out towards him, Reza eyed it warily and the question as well. Aside from the fact that he was being called kid, giving out his real name could be dangerous. Lying was quite possibly even more so, since Reza hadn’t ruled out that this guy would be able to tell. “Reza,” he finally answered, clutching the cat tighter, like a useless, spoiled anchor. It took another few moments of consideration for him to shift Gremory in his arms and accept the handshake, half expecting something horrible to happen as he did. Alas, his cold hand simply wrapped around the stranger’s, meeting a sturdy handshake before returning to the hairless cat.
“And if you’re just a therapist, how did you know? What I am, I mean.” Hopefully he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, curiosity getting the best of him. Not to mention that Gremory looked as pleased as she could so Reza deserved at least one question for making the damn cat that got him into trouble so happy… right?
“Reza. It’s nice to meet you.” He didn’t recognize the name from anywhere. “I’m Daejun. And don’t worry, being skittish has probably kept you alive.”
Daejun paused as information rose to his nose and slithered its way inside, leaving a cold, sweet imprint behind. The predominant emotion Reza was feeling currently was fear; of Daejun, of invoking the name of the slayers, of the world around him, and especially of himself. He was slightly warmer now because of Gremory, but the rest was a mishmash of anxiety. Rather than a seasoned killer, the guy was about as toothless as a vampire could be and not starve to death (or fall into a haze of bloodlust). He must’ve been freshly turned, or the phobia would’ve lead to his breaking already.
Reza definitely a strange case. How was he feeding? Did he need help with the activity, or did he have some alternative? How did the slayers factor in? Reza didn’t smell all that hungry now, but still, the notion of him being unable to eat set Daejun more on edge than he would’ve cared to admit. Nobody should go hungry for any reason (no matter what they ate), in his opinion. Concern ate away at his belly.
So, the kid may need checking in on.
Daejun hesitated at the question, already having three half-truths and several more outright lies that’d suffice, but considering he’d just outed Reza as a vampire and profiled him (plus he wanted answers too), it was only fair that he answer honestly. Information for information.
“Empathy is one of my talents. I’m not human either.” He dropped the offered hand. “You smell like a vampire.”
Gremory was set on acting opposite her owner, losing interest in Reza as Daejun continued to spin his wheels. She pushed at the kid with her paws, twisting out of his nervous grasp and hopping from the motorcycle seat to the pavement. She sat on Daejun’s shoe and meowed impatiently, not sparing Reza so much as a backwards glance. Finally, she was ready to go home.
Daejun blinked down at her (she was very cute, despite being demanding and getting in the way of his work), then returned his attention to the kid, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling out a pristine, minimal business card with his phone number laid out in shiny print. He offered it to Reza.
“If you ever need anything, shoot me a message.” I’m discreet, he nearly added, but thought better of it. “Since Gremory likes you, I’m willing to help with your slayer problem.”
The other problem, the one of Reza foolishly not acting on his vampire nature, Daejun would find out more about in the future. He picked Gremory up, allowing her to rise to his shoulders (she was an excellent watchcat) as he tucked his wallet away, clapped Reza on the shoulder, and resumed his nighttime walk, heading for home.
