Béatrix and Jareth, from her perspective:
“Follow me?” the silver-maned vampire asked, the very tone of his voice was seductive. She had a mission to do, but she needed this.
An escape.
She had lied earlier when she said a weapon never tired, she was a person, and she did tire. She was tired of feeling so wrapped up in feelings that she couldn’t begin to fathom, and this man offered freedom.
A release.
A physical and emotional release from this bloody world that she had let Madame Vengeance create. It helped that he was also extremely attractive, and as young as he was, for once she couldn’t hear what he was thinking. How nice, to be completely mystified as to what another was thinking. Warning bells sounded in the very back recesses of her mind.
Danger.
Was he dangerous to her? Just the very thought brought a chuckle to her lips. No, she was dangerous to him, and he was completely clueless.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, responding to her audible laughter at her own internal monologue. The look in her eyes was enough of an answer for him, because he simply turned around and started walking. She followed him.
They came upon a rundown apartment that sat above a bar. “I know, it’s almost as charming as me, right?” he quipped with a sharp-toothed smile. “But the bed's nice and the downstairs neighbors don’t really mind the noise.” He said as he winked.
His confidence and boldness wasn’t surprising for a young vampire, he acted like he could take over the world. Trixy saw a little bit of her younger self in him, she wondered when the world would break him in. Perhaps she could be the catalyst.
Once inside, she took a look around. There were mirrors around the bed, handcuffs, floggers, and the scent of blood hung around the room. The situation and sight should have sent any sane woman running, lucky for Jareth that Trixy was far from sane. Perhaps lucky wasn’t quite the right word, as she took a riding crop off the wall and ran her finger along the leather and gave him a pointed look. “Undress.”
After that first command, the rest fell into place. Their physical union was a power struggle, each in it for their own reason, each out to conquer the other. Although lacking love, the tryst did not want for passion. It was dangerous and pleasing, and his skin was like milk and honey for her broken soul. She was more like herself when she abandoned her humanity, when her body was doing the all the feeling, and her mind stayed silent. But such blissful ignorance could never last…
Béatrix opened her eyes and stared up at the mirror as he straddled her. Amidst the all the black ink that covered his body, an intricate blood red “B” adorned the space between his shoulder blades. The sight of it jarred her back into the present, what was she doing? But she kept her cool, she’d use this moment to get information out of him. She might not be able to use mind control, but she could still decipher a lie.
“What’s the B stand for?” she asked him. His response was quick, as if he didn’t even need to think about it. “My name.” he said.
The truth.
“Well, I’ve already allowed you to sleep with me, I deserve to know your name.” she said in a playful purr, putting on the mask of a perfect actress. He smiled at her.
“Of course, it’s Blake.”
A lie.
“I see, well I’d give you mine, but you already know it.” She smiled and her face turned thoughtful. “So, what’s a vampire young like yourself doing in the city?” she asked.
“For business.” His answer was short, but truthful.
“Are you a rogue?” she pressed again, he was starting to look a little uncomfortable with her game of twenty questions.
“I’m a man out for himself in the world.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was vague enough to draw suspicion.
Béatrix once again thought about the B on his back, he said it was for his name… but his name wasn’t Blake. “So, you don’t belong to a family, then?”
“Nope.” He said it too quickly, it was a blatant lie. Her knowing smile was the last thing that he saw.
Instantly, Trixy had her hands on either side of his face before quickly snapping his head to the right, and breaking his neck. Of course, this wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it would render them unconscious for a while. His dead weight fell down on her naked body, but she effortlessly pushed him to the side. A smart person would kill him after realizing who and what he was, but a clever person would find a way to use him for their own benefit. Béatrix was the latter type of person, as she parted his lips and let a few drops of her blood fall from her self-inflicted wrist wound, and into his mouth. Blood calls to blood, and now she would know where to find him. She quickly dressed herself, “I think I’ll see myself out.” She joked and set off down the city streets. Trixy was back on track for her mission, and that’s when the unbidden feeling gripped her heart.
Shame.