Dahlia was a quiet creature; a woman who was often around when others thought her long gone. In the house she had listened as others spoke ill of their turning, or their makers. She listened as people complained about what they were and as they spoke so highly of it. Some were filled with nothing but praise for their kind. Others were bitter. Dahlia listened to it all; always eager to know if she was somehow different than the rest. If her turning, if her thoughts, were somehow strange. Dahlia didn’t share many of the complaints that some did. She didn’t miss the day, or even long for the light. She didn’t long for food to hold meaning again. She wasn’t religious as some were and didn’t fear for her soul. But there were things she did hate…parts of herself, things she’d done, that filled her with sorrow and hate. Things…that surfaced every time she had to feed.
She avoided, and she put it off, and she weakened herself continually by it… She knew she shouldn’t, that it was dangerous, but even now she’d put the need aside. A risk after sun burns… A risk for many reasons…
Through it all, even when she fed, she didn’t hate the person who turned her. She had never thought to. She was alive because of them. Being alive should be a good thing. Even if maybe alive wasn’t the right word.
“I do” she agreed about the vampires; finding it nice that someone else considered them undead. Some vampires here didn’t like that word. If they were walking and living they weren’t dead. But they were. In a way. “Can necromancers control vampires?” she asked almost suddenly; having wondered but not really knowing who to ask. “There were rumors they could.” Not that the vampires had need to worry anymore. The necromancer was dead.
Did that mean Dahlia would eventually see her ghost? The thought made her frown as they walked; peering further into the dark as though she expected them to show here and now. It wouldn’t be nice to have a ghost with that much hate around. Those kinds usually didn’t listen when you told them to leave either. “Ghosts” she answered immediately; almost completely missing what he said. Quickly her gaze shot back to him with an odd look “It would be bad for probably a lot of people if it did.” No one would want that to bite them. Plus vampires already bit enough.
Shock after shock. Dahlia’s hand was still raised; almost protective against her chest from the kiss and then he was behind her. Near enough that she could hear his words upon her neck. Near enough that she shivered and drew her other arm around herself. She wasn’t used to someone being so close. At least no one that wasn’t a ghost.
“What are you looking for?” Dahlia managed to make her voice even; though quiet, when she spoke. She didn’t feel even. Or calm. She felt strange. She didn’t like that Dai wasn’t here. She didn’t like that Janos seemed to know her better than she knew him. Discomfort wasn’t enough to still her desire, however, to be of use. Dahlia tended to want to be helpful…even when it sometimes didn’t work out well for her.