Paragon - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

"If you were here to kill me you already would have." Quinn murmured from the desk. Her open white shirt and fitted charcoal skirt were doing nothing to help the situation. Not to mention that scent.
I retreated a number of paces away from her.
"That's your best defence?" I muttered, before turning my attention to the wall of glass beyond that held the city. "You see a monster and you run–you don't pat it on the head for not killing you." I told her in disbelief.
"Do you know many monsters that put an end to manipulative misogynists?" She demanded.
I stared at her and she stared back.
"No? How about stepping in front of something to avoid me getting brain damage? Because I don't see many–"
"Quinn did you not see me?" I interrupted in a growl. "This isn't a joke."
"Then it's a damn good thing I'm serious." She shot back.
I dragged a hand along the top of my head resuming my pacing in her office. So many mortals continued their day outside this room while I stood before one that had just seen me reveal myself. She may be in shock.
She interrupted my inner debate with a surprisingly steady voice.
"Now that's out of the way you can answer my questions properly."
I dropped my hand in shock.
"You still want to question me?"
"Yes." She confirmed with no deception in her eyes.
"So much for accepting the madness that came with me." I drawled, moving forward to take the abandoned seat again before her.
She watched me carefully, scanning from the lines of my face down to the lengths of my arms beneath my dark shirt and the fitted leather boots crossed before me. If only looks could tell you everything... but they were just the surface. One of an immortals weapons.
"Were you always..." She began, unsure of how to finish that sentence.
I took her meaning and shook my head slowly. For some reason I found it hard to speak altogether now she knew what I was. How different we were.
"So you were human once." She mused in a whisper. Those burning green eyes were alive with questions and all of them directed towards me.
"A long time ago." I said quietly. Thinking back to the end of the first world war. How happy everyone was to be free... only for me to become trapped for eternity.
"What was the year?" She pressed me.
A ghost of a smile cracked my cold expression. "1918. November 11th."
The recognition of the date was enough to shock her whole body.
"The end of the war."
I nodded again watching her dazed expression before her hand felt for something on the desk and picked up a small paperweight in distraction–no doubt another gift from her adopted parents. I read Egypt inside it even from here.
"Were you... were you involved?" She whispered.
"I was a mechanic." I murmured, still seeing the crippled machines returning to us. "They needed to relieve non-combat roles so more men could push from the front."
"This is... impossible." She breathed, looking down at the glass in her hands and tracing the edges of it.
"I thought so too. Then I noticed that I wasn't changing. I was twenty three when I turned." I told her in a detached voice.
"But–how? Another... bit you?" She got out.
I shook my head. "Only the blood of an immortal can turn you. I never met the one that turned me. I was in a medical tent injured in service and set aside to die..." I took a shallow breath before speaking again. "When I woke, all I wanted was–" I cut myself off and looked away.
But she was able to connect the dots. The longer I felt her stare on me the faster I wanted to escape the room.
"You can stop looking at me like that, Quinn. I will leave you out of this."
"That's not what I'm thinking." She answered simply. I cut my gaze back to her and she seemed serious. "I'm thinking whether or not you're that desperate to do the same to me."
She was honestly asking if I was planning on killing her?
I stared at her wordlessly. "What do you think?"
"I think you hold yourself back. I think I've seen a look in your eyes since I met you that I mistook for something else... but you haven't hurt me so far." She murmured, leaning up from the desk.
I swallowed the fire in my throat as she stepped closer to the chair.
"Stop." I grit out.
"Why? You've been closer to me before." She assured, pausing a few feet back.
"Why are you looking to test that? You have no idea how much harder it is to control around you." I growled.
She remained still as she watched me grip the edge of the chair with a frown.
"What difference do I make?"
"Your. Scent." I said slowly. "Is not like the others. It's. Stronger. More... desirable."
She continued to watch me silently. "So you have no trouble controlling yourself around others? I'm an... exception?"
"Correct. The rest are distractions. You are like a god damn beacon calling my senses."
For some deranged reason this made her smirk. I couldn't even begin to comprehend this woman. So I shook my head at her.
"Are all lawyers total sociopaths like you seem to be?" I asked dryly.
"I'm not a sociopath. More of the curious and cavalier type."
"Quinn..." I muttered in exasperation. "I tell you and then show you I am an immortal that could drain the life out of you." I emphasised as she simply nodded, moving again, "–could you please stop trying to get closer to me." I demanded, standing from the chair and retreating until I could feel the cool stone of the wall.
She shook her head. "You're an immortal." She murmured, "–and you're incredible. Fascinating and the most interesting person I've ever met."
I froze before her words as she closed in on me again. I couldn't move my body. I feared that if I tried to move I'd end her then and there. Her scent was closing in around me and making my head spin. She never let anything go... why would I expect this to be any different?
"Quinn." I tried again, more of a whisper than a demand.
"Just. Don't move. I want to know..." She told me as she left only a foot between us. I turned my head to the side as the space closed and I could feel her breath heat against my skin. "I'm still not dead." She murmured with slight humour.
I grit my teeth and fought their need to lengthen in my mouth at her scent and warmth closing in around me. She had to be insane. Maybe she sought death after all–
Her fingertips brushed the edge of my jaw and I didn't dare to shift an inch of me. All of my focus went into freezing myself into the wall. No breath came through my lips as they carefully trailed a line of fire.
"Is it... painful? Not to act on your instincts?" She asked carefully.
I shook my head–a minute movement.
"Not. Pain. Desire." I grit out each word.
She pulled her hand back and watched my face. My eyes. My clenched jaw and finally my lips. She nodded and drew back to a safer distance. I finally turned my head in her direction and took a small gulp of burning air.
"You've had over a hundred years to control it and yet you struggle near me... Is it... merely blood doing that?"
What was she asking. If I found her aesthetically desirable? Her personality appealing. When did mortals get so bold?
"Why are you not running as far from me as possible?" I demanded instead. "Why are you pursuing this? You know I'm not human, you know this could easily get you killed–"
"Because I can't stop thinking about you!" She blurted.
I paused and watched her across the room. Lost in her words and actions. The whole day was a loss to me and I didn't even care about the police work that was no doubt piling in my absence. She paced before the large glass windows.
"I think about the way you showed up. I think about what's happened because of you. The way you speak and the way you just disappear into the night. The clothes you wear–" She rushed, glancing at my tailored dark shirt and leather boots. "–I knew you were different."
"What do you expect will come of getting closer to me?" I asked her deliberately. "I won't stand here and lie to you–I have thought about you more than I'd like to. You're intelligent and quick witted. You don't speak unless you have something to say and that is very rare in this city. Even this century." I finished flatly. "But I'm an immortal Quinn."
"You've said that already." She said with a faint smile.
"How are you smiling at all?" I said exasperated for the hundredth time today.
"I don't know, detective. But I don't want you to run off because of me. If my knowing is a problem for you I can go–"
"No." I interrupted calmly.
We were silent for a few beats. I tried to think of a logical way out without uprooting lives or killing. But the longer I watched those bright green eyes that found me fascinating the harder it became to cut it all away. This was the one thing I was the most afraid of. The one thing Paragon ordered us to avoid at any cost. Yet here I was breaking every immortal rule for her.
The attachment. The need. The damn longing for someone mortal.
"I need to think through this. As do you." I added, moving swiftly to the door and pulling my long jacket over my shoulders. Quinn nodded setting her hands upon her desk trying to form her own thoughts.
"I want to call you. Later." She murmured at the desk.
I considered this. I sighed and flicked the collar of my winter coat up against my neck.
"Take some time to really consider this, Quinn. I think you might find your answer might be different with time."
I turned and pulled the door open to make my escape before I heard her mutter, "I doubt it."
The door shut heavily.
* * * * *
I didn't return to work for the rest of the day. I called in sick–of all things and had Jamerson pick me up outside that tall glass building.
I sighed inside the cool dark leather and nodded when he asked if I was to return home.
My eyes drifted out of the window and noticed it had started to snow. I watched the crystalline flakes dance past the glass and melt as soon as they hit the street.
What the hell have I done.
I've put myself and her in jeopardy. If Paragon discovered this... if any immortal did we were both as good as gone. I heard low classical music drift in the speakers and watched Jamerson tap his hand in rhythm to it on the steering wheel.
I focused back on the falling snow as we travelled West. More to the point, what the hell was she thinking? Acting like my existence was nothing more than a phase. Some kind of outlandish outburst that would pass in time? I internally scoffed. I wasn't even bound by time.
Then there was that more potent question... about whether my desire for her was just blood.
Her heart had pounded harder than it had when my teeth were at her throat. That of all things made her pulse more frantic and I hadn't even answered it. She didn't need to know what I thought of her in that way. It wouldn't help either of us if she felt similarly attracted. And I was not unobservant. I knew she felt something.
I sighed and pushed a free strand of hair that had come loose out  of my face.
Jamerson met my eyes in the mirror briefly.
"Tough day, Ms Fletcher?"
"You could say that." I muttered.
He nodded his head in understanding before casting his steely eyes back on the road. I didn't hire drivers for their social skills and I was damn appreciative that it didn't extend further than common courtesy. We had boundaries.
Unlike a certain mortal that was intent on burning them all.
We finally pulled up outside the underground parking and I dove out of the car without another word. The lift was short and brief like it should be.
When I stepped out onto the smooth stone floor of my flat I let out a long groan of appreciation. Maybe I could lock myself in here for the next year and they would all simply forget my existence. It wouldn't cost me anything if I did.
Quinn's infuriatingly beautiful eyes appeared in my mind and I sighed.
Maybe one thing.
I shrugged out of my jacket and set the lights on dim. Then decided on shedding everything else. I strode to the large stone bathroom free from every scent that stuck to my clothes. I ran the bath in the square set tub that sunk into the floor. Lit every candle I could find in the room and dropped myself into the steaming water without waiting a moment more.
I submerged my entire being in it as usual. Hoping to rid myself of every foreign smell, every touch on my skin, everything that smelled of her.
I could remain like this without air for over an hour. Though I'd never really pushed myself past that limit. I was told it was one of the few ways we could be killed. Immortality did not mean invincibility after all.
I felt the grime leave me in a deliciously freeing way. When I felt a faint burn in my throat for air I came up. The soapy streams flowed around me and I took the first deep and fresh breath I had all day. I set my arms on the edge of the deep tub and considered my actions again.
Teeth. Snarling. Talking. Too much touching.
She wanted to call later. Whatever that entailed. More questions are likely. I wasn't sure what the answers would be now anyway. What did she expect from me anyway? Trips to that sweaty, hell box of a gym? Long walks in the park? A timeless, immortal assassin does not frolic–we kill. We hide from the public gaze and we restore balance in the world.
My phone started ringing past the door and I groaned loudly again. I sunk my head beneath the water trying desperately to pretend it didn't exist. I could only stand thirty seconds before bringing my head up and listening again.
It rang again.
I swore loudly and ripped myself out of the tub still dripping water from every angle before wrapping a towel around my body and yanking the door open.