The change in her was impossible to miss - from the way she looked at him to how her physical appearance had actually gone through a full-on transformation from a human mask to a deadly predator. Her expression said it all - he was food and she was hungry. And Minho was horrified.
Not because she would actually be able to hurt him. She wouldn’t, and Minho was absolutely sure of that, very certain of his faerie superiority even over a vampire, although he’d never tested himself against one. He was royalty, the best his lineage could offer, descended from a long line of kin who chose very carefully who they coupled with and what sort of heirs they produced, based on power, appearance and status. His mother could make whole gardens bloom and make those she wished to grovel at her feet with a mere glance. His father lead literal armies and conjured ice dragons breathing blizzards that felt as deathly cold as real ones. He could stand his ground very well against one lost little undead soul who could barely control herself, let alone him.
But, just like Mariah, who had this one voice inside her that told her right from wrong, Minho’s true self, the one he really was at his core, didn’t want to hurt a fly. He didn’t want to exert his power to trample over even those who were not very nice or good to him. The cruel fae prince in him was disgusted, ready to spit out a lofty, superior ‘how dare you?’ at the vampiress, but the real Minho, the tender, soft Minho hated the thought of anyone seeing this side of him and suffering for it.
So just like Mariah’s vampiric self was battling to take over, Minho’s own body reacted in the only way it could without doing outright physical or mental harm, both of which he could easily do if he wanted to. Mariah’s supernatural hearing would be her disadvantage now, for she would perceive a very low, and extremely pleasant hum along with Minho’s rapidly beating heart, like a buzzing undertone of the erratic rhythm that pumped his blood she now desperately desired through his veins. It was like a swift beat of a hummingbird’s wings, a soft buzz of a chirping insect, alluring and hypnotizing, a call that calmed, slightly disoriented and adjusted the mood of those who’d hear it.
It was due to a specific organ right beneath the diaphragm, very particular to his species of fae, that released those odd purring vibrations along with potent pheromones that hit certain parts of one’s brain to trigger inexplicable affection and an urge to protect or somehow gain favor with the person producing this. The closest comparison one could make was to see a poor, defenseless, mewling kitten and having the urge to hold it and protect it. More accurate one would be a command from a queen bee in a hive to her worker drones. But just like any reflexive response, there was no guarantee that it would work or do anything really, especially against another supernatural. Some humans were susceptible to it, definitely most of Minho’s own species could detect and easily respond to it, but everyone else was a hit or miss.
However, it was still better than anything else Minho could do to defend himself, which would otherwise result in actual harm. Clutching the basket full of products he meant to purchase to his chest, Minho slowly but surely turned away from Mariah, not able to stop the beat of his heart but putting all his bets into what the alarming situation triggered in him. Perhaps if it did have at least some hold on her, they could simply part like this and leave each other’s presence unscathed. Minho shut his eyes tightly as he slowly walked away, praying to the gods of wind and rivers to leave Mariah far behind and not coming after him.
What took place next; the transformation in Mariah’s intent, and outward appearance, was not instant, but it was swift and the consequences of it would reverberate through the blonde’s immediate future for some weeks. This is not to say the consequences of Minho’s potent and effective protective measures would not impact the fae also.
You see, for all of Mariah’s anti social inclinations, her inability to form bonds with most creatures, and the generally predatory and off putting countenance the pretty vampire exerted, the vampire was actually extremely clingy.
Mariah, though solitary by practice, by nature she was loyal, passionate and loving. She connected with very few, which could be a good thing considering her propensity for obsessive attachments, or a bad thing given that perhaps spread over a large pool of creatures, her feelings might have mellowed somewhat. Unfortunately for both Mariah and Minho, the Vampiress was still very much lonely which meant that there was so much room in her mind and heart for someone to take up space.
“I-” the British vampire began, her voice softening, as her dark, narrow eyes widened somewhat, the colour fading back to it’s usual mossy green, but the gaze was somewhat unfocused even as it zeroed in on the pretty fae before her.
The humming, that sweet, soothing and melodic humming was like oxygen for a drowning woman, and the vampire gulped it down greedily. The cold, still heart of Mariah Cadieux seemed to burst as she was overwhelmed by the urge to sweep the fae into her arms and flit out of the shop and towards somewhere more befitting his grandeur.
“I’m so sorry!” Mariah whispered, her unfocused, narrowed eyes brimming with salty tears as she stared, aghast at the fae whose very proximity to her was enough to make her want to sing. The golden haired predator dropped her basket and reached out eagerly to take Minho’s “Let me hold that for you!” she insisted “Or I can empty the store for you so all the sales assistants can focus on your esteemed shopping experience!”
With that, Mariah’s predatory gaze returned as she bore her teeth and a snarl tore through her lips, but she was not snarling at Minho. This time, she was snarling at the other customers who were stood nearby, It was clear from the viciousness in her expression that Mariah was not offering to empty the store of customers by way of peaceful requests, she had every intention of savagely ending the lives of every since customer present - if Minho so wished it.
Though the blonde did not once touch Minho, the intensity of her gaze, the passion with which she spoke, all of her responses to his pheromones seemed violent in nature, like the woman was incapable of tempering anything she was feeling.
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