Eleanor wrinkled her nose disdainfully at the sight of the old mansion. It was obviously beginning to fall into a state of disrepair, as evidenced by the peeling paint and vines crawling up the foundations.
This had better be worth my time, she thought.
I cancelled a pedicure just for this Mr. Callahan! Eleanor flicked an invisible speck of dirt off of her satin gloves as she continued up the front walk, heels click-clacking against the ground.
Eleanor wore a pale, dusty pink
dress with lace at the hem and at the collar, as well as at the ends of the sleeves. A riot of ruffles ran across the skirt, and a thin leather belt was cinched at Eleanor's waist. Her caramel-colored
hair had been carefully arranged into precise waves earlier that day, but the damn
humidity was undoing all of the hairstylist's impeccable work. She'd gotten her nails done two days ago-she'd opted for French nails, as usual, and she had them painted a light rose pink to match her dress. However, her nails were currently concealed by a pair of lovely, pristine white satin gloves. A hint of blush graced her cheeks, which had been contoured to emphasize her high cheekbones, and Eleanor had decided to go with lip gloss instead of her typical choice of lipstick. She wore mascara and eyeliner, though not as much as she usually wore, and soft grey eye shadow topped off the ensemble. Of course, Eleanor was wearing a pair of spiky heels (white pumps with bows on the straps this time, and though they appeared to be more fitting for a young girl than a vampire of eight hundred and two years, the heels were just as sharp as any other pair of shoes that Eleanor owned), and a small dagger was concealed in her bodice. She carried one of her favorite bladed fans-a white lace one from her marriage to Mr. Stanpoth that complemented the rest of her outfit
perfectly-and a white leather handbag that held lipstick, a compact mirror, and a gun.
Eleanor had impulsively decided to wear a jaunty little hat decorated with cloth flowers and a small bit of netting that was reminiscent of Victorian England before she set off for the mansion. It was the color of cotton candy and fresh cream, and it matched her jacket, which was cream-colored and featured puffy sleeves similar to those of princess-dresses in children's storybooks.
Eleanor carefully made her way up to the front door, her eyes scanning the area and her mind reaching out to see if anybody else was there as well.
If this is some sort of trap, I shall be extremely cross with Mr. Callahan, Eleanor decided.
The humidity is ruining my hair and there's dirt everywhere
. Does this man not know the meaning of basic hygiene?The insides of the mansion were no better than the outside. It was dark, though that was of no concern to Eleanor-she
was a vampire, after all-but goodness gracious, everything was
filthy!
Eleanor arrived at the dining room. Her eyes immediately went to the blonde man sitting at the head of the long table. Eleanor herself took a seat across from a woman with white hair and ice-blue eyes.
Joseph Mikkish Callahan began to speak in a deep voice that held a hint of a southern drawl. Eleanor found southern drawls to be very charming, having spent time in the American south during the mid-nineteenth century after marrying a wealthy plantation owner when he was visiting England and coming to America to live in his lavish estate. Of course, not three years had passed before Eleanor had drank the man dry and sold all his assets (including the beautiful house, as much as she hated to do so), taken the money, and left.
Their host mentioned fighting the cults. Eleanor blinked innocently at him, though her mind was racing ahead.
Fought the cult? More like... disposed
of a cult. A fight implies that both sides have an equal chance of winning, does it not? They killed my dear little Melissa, so I killed them. End of the story. I have to say, though, their blood was some of the best that I've tasted since Spain. Perhaps I should kill more of these cultists. It would get me out of Mr. Callahan's dreadful old home, and I do enjoy the taste of their blood.Eleanor reached out and listened to what they were thinking. Joseph Callahan was enjoying the red wine, which he thought was rather expensive. Eleanor had to stifle a giggle at that. The wine was
expensive? It was second-rate, at best. Eleanor hadn't had wine so cheap since New York City, and that was only because there was a massive shortage of finer alcoholic beverages. These days, though, Eleanor preferred champagne; the best champagne that money could buy.
The elemental mage who could control ice sat stoically, her eyes practically burning. Eleanor resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
What in the world is she so worked up about? Indeed, the woman had just thought about pulling out her crossbow and shooting the wine glass out of the other mage's hand.
Now, that's not very polite, is it? thought Eleanor.
It would be terribly rude to interrupt, and think of how the wine would stain his clothing. Although I wouldn't mind the spectacle. It would certainly be quite amusing.Their host suggested that they introduce themselves. Eleanor pointedly ignored the wine that he offered, instead focusing her attention on the blue-eyed woman. She told their host that her name was Rowan Hendrix, and that she was a cryomancer who'd fought the cults on the island and in the Rockies.
Eleanor went next. "I am Eleanor Fife-Stanpoth," she began, flashing the pair a warm smile. "Before I begin, I would like to thank Mr. Callahan for kindly hosting us in his...home, as well as for the generous offer of wine," Eleanor went on, subtle inflections of her voice hinting at what she truly thought of the mansion and the wine. "And what do I bring to the table, Mr. Callahan?" Eleanor paused and placed her index finger on her chin and looked up at the ceiling, as if she was deep in thought. "Well, I am sure that you are aware of my true nature, as well as my other abilities, or why else would I be here?" she giggled, as if any other idea was completely absurd.
"No, Mr. Callahan, I am certain that you already know, but for Miss Hendrix's sake, I shall humor you. I am, ah, a
telepath, and I can most certainly provide assistance if I deem it worth my time. Oh, and a vast array of cosmetics and high heels, if any of you have interest in that sort of thing." Eleanor gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Yes, please do make this worth my time, Mr. Callahan," she finished, giggling slightly, though if one looked hard enough, they would be able to detect a dangerous gleam in Eleanor's wide brown eyes.
