Helene had pressed three fingers against her lips at Boris's reaction to her presence, terrible as it may be she found it a bit funny. However, contrary to his thoughts she did not perceive him to be weak because she did not understand his position. Her mother had taught her to gather information before making a final judgement, one of her many life lessons.
Curiously she watched as his eyes scattered across the length of her body, as if to determine if his flight or fight response should kick in. How often she forgot she was not the same as other people no matter how many times she had to remind herself. Her head began to lower preparing to brace for disappointment of driving him away as she awaited his response. Did she get too close before announcing herself? He must think she had been so rude to request his name like that. Her eyes began to sink down towards the sand at her feet before she heard the most amazing word. Helene's chin perked right back up with an almost giddy smile she could not contain. Boris. While she could not pick-out the precise accent, it sounded simply marvelous to her ears having never heard something like it before.
If her heart beat, it would have skipped one or two as he flat out spoke her secret as she blinked twice with a stunned expression. It was not the statement but the bluntness in which it was said and without so much as an ounce of fear. Her mother had always instructed her status as a vampire was one that people either fear or hated. It was clear from his cursing that he was instead regretful. Did this mean that was not a human himself? The closer she looked at him the more she believed so, and the thought only made her more excited. Her mother would often speak of her dream of a world where witches, werewolves, and vampires were not persecuted and humans were not treated as mere objects. That bright optimism was tempered by years of observing, collecting, and processing information. Change happens slowly but sometimes the right step at the right time can make all the difference.
Immediately after his apology, Helene extended her hand down to him "Приятно познакомиться, Борис." translating roughly to Nice to meet you, Boris. Her voice adjusted slightly to meet the phonetics of the language, though her accent still persisted.
Helene didn't even attempt to deny his statement nor did she show any ill-will towards him for knowing. Briefly she flashed her teeth in a smile letting the fangs grow slightly in display before hide them once more behind her full lips "Do not be sorry. It is I who approached you and you were gracious enough to gift me your name." A thinly veiled excitement carried her voice, even if was just one name it was one more than she knew before in this new frontier. It gave her hope that there would others that gave her their name in such a generous way. Without fear. Without hatred. She wasn't looking to give him pity or charity, whether he deserved it or not. No, she was selfishly pushing herself into his life so that she may know someone in this new world of hers.
"If I am a vampire, what does that make you?" She asked coyly while trying to contain her smile.
When your entire life revolves around deception and illusions, you quickly develop a keen eye for anything out of the ordinary. For example, a young man that was perhaps placing eyes where he shouldn't. Either the coffee was reacting poorly with him, or there was something else that made him make a mad dash for the restroom. Whoever it was should have not been so hasty and covered their tracks better as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could feel the quiet whispers of a spells in the air, of which he determined its nature. How quaint. When the mysterious young warlock emerged from his ivory throne, Lucius burned what physical features he could see into his mind. The last one to have such a spooked reaction to him did not live very long because as is the case with most witches, they can't keep their curiosity to themselves. It would have been child's play to intercept the message right there and then, but his judgement decided against it.
Lucius watched silently as Felix left the witches brew and then returned to his journal, where he quickly finished up the last paragraph he had been writing. Without even a second thought, he rose from his seat and walked casually to the bin where he had watched the man throw away his coffee cup. It sat at the top of the rubbish pile, as he had been the last one to throw something away. His hand reached in and seized the cup in one fluid motion. Once in his hand, he turn the cup over to reveal exactly what he was looking for. Written in black sharpie was the name Felix "So that is your name. Kids these days..." He shook his head and left the coffee shop ignoring whatever strange looks he may have garnered. The opinion of a few meaningless pawns meant nothing to him.
He decided that it was time for him to return to his coven for the time being and simply wait for the opportune time to use the tracking spell. Lucius hoped that this Felix would be running to whomever he sent that message. The best case scenario would be if nothing came of this little incident, though he was at no real loss either way. A warlock test subject would be a great candidate for some for the more offensive and intrusive spells he had been developing. The vampire from the Bathory clan was too fresh and young to survive. It was a real pity nothing could be learned from her feeble body. If nothing else, Rachel might have the information he needed though he had yet to dig his roots in yet. A wicked smirk spread across his face.
"It's going to be a cold winter."
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