Weston sat there holding Samaire until her struggling stopped and she stilled. She was pale now and cool to the touch, as if made out of porcelain. The blue of her veins stood out starkly--almost unnaturally--against her skin. Blood which looked as red as candy against the white of her skin was speckled across her lips. To the unknowing eye she seemed dead. But beneath the surface, working quietly, was blood. Life.
Lifting the unmoving witch up, Wes stood and turned to face the mouth of the alley. He hugged her close, pressing the blood-coated side of her body against him in order to conceal it from sight. A small frown marred his features as he considered what to do next. His options were few. Very few.
He had saved the girl. He didn't want to raise her nor did he feel he should have to. He was happy with where his life was right now and having to take the time to educate and care for a young vampire would ruin all that. It was too time consuming and--alright, if he was going to be completely honest his thoughts were primarily on Ashleigh. It was selfish of him--putting his own wants and cares first--but, well, he didn't give a damn. ...Yet he couldn't just abandon Samaire. Selfish he was, heartless he wasn't. Hence the dilemma.
Wes took a step out onto the sidewalk and paused there to get his bearings. Blue eyes looked right and then left. He smiled suddenly; he knew exactly what he'd do with Samaire. He took a left and started for his destination.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
It wasn't long before Wes arrived at a modestly upper-class apartment complex. He went inside, nodded to the guard at the front desk, and rode the elevator up to the four floor. The doors slid soundlessly open and he walked down the hallway to apartment 411. Shifting the weight of the witch onto one hand, he raised his other to rap sharply at the door.
A moment or two later the door was opened.
"Good. You're home." Wes shouldered his way past the man who had opened the door and walked into the apartment.