Dream a Little Dream of Me - Locked to Cesare (Late September)

[greenevoices]

Imogen's been offered a job, and she thinks she'll take it. Not that she particularly wants to spend her days teaching magical teenagers how to sightread--as someone who's only barely in her twenties herself, she thinks that's far below her--but because the pay is decent and, combined with her weekly performances at the Angelo, it means she might even be able to move out of her aunt and uncle's house. Or at least start paying rent.

Two days after her meeting with Sylvia Redbright, Imogen is back under the spotlight at the Angelo. She's "gifted," whatever that means. Something about her voice is magical. It should be earth-shattering news, but somehow it makes sense as much as anything in a world that is suddenly peopled by witches and vampires in addition to regular humans makes sense. It seems right.

Halfway through her set, another person walks into the lounge. Imogen is too much of a professional to register her surprise, but it's actually the first time that Cesare Borgia, her mysterious employer and benefactor, has come to see her sing. She smiles to herself. Gifted, huh?

Between songs, she whispers something in the ear of the pianist, and he signals to the rest of the band. They're going to change things up a bit.

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[greenevoices]

If he’s trying to be subtle about it, he’s being a bIt too subtle because right now all Imogen can think is “wait, is he over forty?” She doesn’t understand the mechanics of the London world entertainment and real estate. What she does know, however, is that Cesare seems like he’s getting to the point of something.

“‘Well then,’ what?” She asks over the rim of her glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

[longterm]

Cesare leans in slightly, his voice getting lower. She's about to tell him a big secret after all. This deserves a bit of secrecy showmanship.

"It means maybe you can only find information on one man because there is only one man."

He opens his mouth for the briefest of seconds and his tongue instinctively moves over his right fang.

[greenevoices]

“What are you—“ he’s leaning in, getting a little too close and Imogen wants him close but at the same time the pit falls out of the bottom of her stomach and she starts to sweat, suddenly reminded of that vampire girl and the attack, but why would she be thinking about that now?

Then she catches a glimpse of fang in Cesare’s mouth and it all makes sense.

“...the fuck?”

Him? He’s a vampire?

[longterm]

Cesare can tell that there's some recognition in her reaction. He leans back in his chair and smiles at her.

"How much do you know already?" He would rather not bore her with retelling of the same information. Being told the same thing over and over has a habit of losing its lustre and Cesare does love to make an impact when he can.

[greenevoices]

“Enough.” She wants to sound steady, mature, but her hands are shaking. She keeps thinking about being attacked, about the sharp pain in her neck and the terror of having her life in the hands of monsters.

“So...when you found me the other night, you knew what had happened to me. You weren’t just being nice.”

[longterm]

"Can it not be both?" he says, sounding slightly apologetic. "We are supposed to keep that type of thing a secret if we can. We have a code of sorts." In fact a really serious code that he shouldn't be breaking right now.

He looks at her with a bit of a sad smile.

"I wanted to help you."

[greenevoices]

Imogen just looks down at her drink. “You wanted to hide me. Get me into a nice hotel, buy me pretty things, keep me too distracted to call the police and say I’d been attacked by vampires.” She laughs bitterly. “Worked. Secret’s safe. Well done.”

But she has a secret too. “I’ve been offered a job, you know. Lady named Sylvia Redbright wants me to teach music in her school.”

[longterm]

Cesare doesn't deny it any further. He owes Imogen better than that and so he just leaves it.

Then the topic of Sylvia crops up. Ew. Cesare's disgust is pretty clear as he rolls his eyes.

"Why would that bitch want anything to do with you?" It seems like Sylvia broke the rules far before he did.

[greenevoices]

“So you’ve met.” While ‘bitch’ isn’t the exact word Imogen would use for her new employer, the look on Cesare’s face speaks volumes.

Now here’s the tricky part. If she reveals why, exactly, Redbright had scouted her out Cesare will know she’d been experimenting with her powers. But she knows now that there are people with powers, and it’ll be useless to pretend otherwise.

“Apparently I’m...a, uh, meta-human? Sounds like a comic book, doesn’t it?”

[longterm]

"Oh," Cesare grins and quirks an eyebrow. That changes everything. Suddenly they're just two supernaturals talking about their world. Suddenly everything is so much simpler.

"What can you do?" he asks, the same way you ask a magician to show you a trick. "Fire? Invisibility?" He pauses and grins, clearly joking with his next words. "Mind control?" Apparently he truly has no idea.

[greenevoices]

“We’re still trying to figure that out. I’m a bit new at this.” Imogen smiles uncomfortably. Change the subject, change the subject...

“So you’re actually a vampire? Hundreds of years old, can’t go in the sunlight or eat garlic or anything?”

[longterm]

"I can go into the sunlight as long as I wear this." He gently taps the signet ring on his right ring finger, carefully avoiding to mention any of the pieces of moonlight jewelry on him. Cesare is not the type of person to take risks by only wearing one piece. In fact, rumours abound that he actually has a moonlight gold filling. Whether that's exaggeration or entirely true, Cesare will never clarify.

"But not everyone here can. Why do you think this hotel has such great blackout curtains?" He flashes her a smile, trying to focus on the conversation and not how fantastic she looks.

[greenevoices]

Imogen tries not to laugh. “A magic ring? Do you sleep in a coffin and vant to suck my blood, too?” Her Transylvanian accent could use a bit of work.

This is all ridiculous and part of her still doesn’t quite believe it, despite all she’s seen in the last few weeks. Vampires and werewolves and witches and metahumans. Hell, probably mermaids and pixies too.

“...are there more vampires in the hotel? Other than you?”

[longterm]

Cesare laughs a little awkwardly because the truth is he really does want to drink from her.

"I sleep in a bed, though you are welcome to check that if you like." Wow, subtle, Cesare. Normally he's considerably smoother than that. What's happening? Why is he so nervous? He tries to move on and takes another swig of his drink.

"See that man over there who looks in his sixties? The one drinking port? He's only ninety or so. And that young thing at the bar, wearing all the sequins? One of my elders."

[greenevoices]

Well, that’s a bit forward. In her limited interactions with Cesare before, Imogen had always felt like he was in complete control of things. Now the dynamic has shifted. She realizes, suddenly, that she holds power over him.

And she doesn’t deny that she’s been intensely attracted to him since the night he brought her back to the hotel. She’d been attacked by vampires and now she wants to go to bed with one.

“Are they all vampires? Everyone who’s come to see me?” She asks, curiously. “They’re a hell of a lot better dressed than the ones who tried to kill me last month. How many of you are there?”

[longterm]

He nods, smiling at her then laughs a little too loudly at her joke. Suddenly Imogen is quite frankly hilarious. She's certainly exceedingly charming.

"Not all of them but a lot. At least half of the guests here are of the vampiric variety. You could call it a haunt of theirs." He internally cringes as he says it. Oh my god, Cesare. Why are you acting like a dork? Get it together.

"As for as many there are in the world, it's difficult to say. We're a secretive bunch, but there are certainly quite a lot of us. How much do you know about meta-humans?"

[greenevoices]

The power over him she seems to have is a bit disconcerting, but Imogen finds herself completely disarmed by his bad jokes and awkward attempts at flirting. She smiles, laughs a little herself.

“Not much,” she admits. “I got a pamphlet and a job offer. They want to keep me on as a vocal coach—to keep an eye on me, probably. It’s only been a few days since I found out about any of this. I thought I’d been hallucinating when that girl—when I got attacked. Now it makes sense.”

[longterm]

He smiles as he listens carefully to her words, paying close attention. His brow furrows and he wants to reach out for her hand. Is he allowed to touch her hand? Would that be ok? He's questioning himself all of a sudden.

He settles for leaning in a little and placing his hand on the table.

"Are you worried?" He doesn't want her to worry. He wants her to be happy, enjoying the supernatural world around her, ideally with him.

[greenevoices]

Is she worried?

“A little,” Imogen admits. “Obviously it’s not all....witch schools and really nice hotels.” She shrugs, then smiles. Dazzlingly. “But I’ve got people to show me the ropes. I’m a quick study.”

[longterm]

Cesare grins when she says she's a quick study. Of course she's smart. He totally knew she was smart. He's not at all surprised.

"It can be all witch schools and nice hotels, if you would like it to be..." After all, that's what his life is. He's had years to craft it carefully and invite people along for the ride. He could easily make things more comfortable for her.

[greenevoices]

Imogen’s glass has gone empty without her realizing it, but a waiter suddenly appears at her elbow to refill it. That gives her enough time and distraction for her to process what Cesare said. Is the flirting just getting intense, or is he making a real offer?

She says, coyly, “But what if I want to see more? As long as it doesn’t try to kill me.”

[longterm]

To be totally honest, it's a bit of both. Cesare is very much a flirt, but he doesn't make claims or suggestions unless he can back them up. This time he very much can. What would be one more girl staying in his hotel?

"Well, there is certainly plenty to see..." He gives her a smile and takes a swig of his wine. "And who am I to tell you what you can and cannot experiment with?"

[greenevoices]

“Why Cesare,” Imogen smiles over the rim of her glass, “are you flirting with me?”

Of course he is. But this is part of the game, after all.

“And how should I experiment?”

[longterm]

For the first time in two hundred years, Cesare blushes. He smiles though, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

"Would it be a problem if I were?" Though from how she's reacting, he gathers he already knows the answer. He reaches for her hand and turns it over, his thumb pressed against her wrist. He looks down at it thumb tracing absent-mindedly over the vein there.

"Well, to start I should tell you that the act of drinking is mutually enjoyable."

[greenevoices]

"It wasn't all that enjoyable when I was attacked in a dark alley," Imogen points out, but she's smiling. Maybe it's the champagne or the thrill of power still left in the air after her performance or the willing company. Maybe it's all three. Whatever it is, Cesare's touch sends a shiver through her and she's suddenly completely on board with sleeping with her boss.

Imogen leans over and whispers, her lips just brushing the shell of his ear, "let's get out of here."

Not twenty minutes later and her expensive little cocktail dress is in a pile on the floor of Cesare's bedroom, its zipper torn in his haste to get it off her. She hadn't been wearing much underneath. Cesare's shirt and trousers are crumpled next to the dress, and Imogen finds herself on her knees in front of him, practicing a skill she hasn't needed to use in a long time. It's rough, sloppy, chaotic.

And she likes it this way.