Post Chapter Five - Belladonna (Patreon)

A/N This is assuming you took the Belladonna route in Chapter Five. Post her getting you to sleep upstairs, but right before the events of Chapter Six begin.

The shuffling upstairs was becoming more pronounced.  Soft little padding of feet back and forth as a morning routine was conducted. Clothes were donned, hair was pulled back, teeth was brushed and face was washed. It was all incredibly tedious and required far too much effort for early morning wakings. Belladonna didn’t understand why anyone even bothered to be up this early. Rather, this was the perfect time to go to bed.

When the door upstairs opened, it squeaked in such a way that sent the small shadows lurking in each corner, scattering to their respective homes. The smiles sprites that were messing with the bundles of cracked wheat skittered beneath the floorboards and the kitsune that had taken up residence in the corner of the shop, climbed out the window. The stairs were taken at a quick downward pace; a stumble really, as the person in question struggled to wake up. All the while, Belladonna waited.  She had of course been sitting there for far longer than anyone in the house suspected. So when Hazel flipped on the apothecary lights and saw her, silent and still in the small tea area, the young woman practically screamed.

And by practically, she did. Loudly. While clutching her chest.

Belladonna raised a brow as Hazel stood there, panting.  “Tea?” she asked.  She had brewed it hours ago but found several refresher charms to keep the kettle hot.

“Belladonna,” Hazel said, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it would be nice if you and I had a little girl time.  It’s been so incredibly goal oriented around here lately that we are forgetting that the foundation to any good life is pointless socialization.”

Hazel’s look grew more and more concerned.  “I don’t know if that is true. Or at least I don’t think many would put it that way.”

Belladonna waved her off. “No matter. Now come. Sit. I brewed a post of earl tapioca.”

Clearly, there were several thoughts warring in Hazel’s head at the moment.  Belladonna sighed as she watched the young woman try to decide if this was a trap.  “Really, Hazel. While I am a vampire, I do not wait in apothecaries to eat my prey. I would have just come to your room and drank you in your sleep. You would have been none the wiser.”

Immediately, Hazel’s hand smacked the side of her neck, looking for a wound. At the smirk playing across the other woman's blood-red lips, she realized it had been a joke. Or at least she hoped it was.

Against her better judgement, Hazel sat across from Belladonna. While the vampire's presence was unsettling, there was a certain cause for curiosity. Belladonna Malady was not one to ever seek the aid of others.  Not without a price.  “I’ve never had that one before,” Hazel said. “The tea, I mean.”

“I suspect not. It was a blend native to my world. Took me years to find something equivalent to it.  Had to kill a man for his secrets on tapioca production.  Apparently they grow better under green lanterns as opposed to azure.”

Hazel hesitated, her eyes flicking around the room, still certain that this ruse was going to be the death of her. “I am never sure if you are joking or not when you speak like that.”

“That, dear heart, is by design.” Pouring a steaming cup of tea, Belladonna handed her the cup. It was made of black opaque glass with blooming purple and gold flecked roses painted upon the rim.  Sipping at the brew, Hazel jerked back in surprise.

“Oh,” she breathed. “That is beautiful.”

Belladonna smiled, pleased. “A specialty of my home village. My father was a farmer of sorts.  I grew up gathering from the fields and selling down at the local markets. You would be amazed how bored I could get.”

“You never talk about where you came from,” Hazel ventured slowly.

Sipping her tea, Belladonna placed it down on a matching saucer. “I don’t.”

When it was left at that, Hazel didn’t dare press.

The two women sat in silence, enjoying their tea. When Hazel finished hers, Belladonna poured her another cup without a word.  Her chest was still this morning. She wasn’t even trying to feign the art of breathing.

“Uh, Belladonna,” Hazel said. She nearly jumped at the sound of her own voice. Which, in turn, had Belladonna’s fangs glinting in a smile.  “I– I’m a little confused.  Why are you here? In the dark. Before my shop even opens.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile, as if the question was somehow surprising.  “Was I not clear earlier? Girl time.”

“Yes. No. You mentioned that but– we don’t exactly have anything to talk about.”

“We do, actually.” Setting her cup aside, Belladonna crossed one leg over the other. Her dress was made of shifting blue-black sheer lace with a bodysuit beneath.  “Your shop hand–”

“They have a name…”

“I believe you may not be keeping them busy enough. I have noticed a few concerning things about them and I believe it would be in our best benefit to keep them a tad bit more occupied.”

Hazel blinked. “Oh. I– are they getting into trouble?”

“No,” Belladonna enunciated the word with a long-drawn-out frown while the flutter of wings began to whisper in the dark. “Nothing like that. I think they are just so new to this world that they are attaching to things that will ultimately be harmful to them.”

At this, Hazel looked genuinely concerned.  “Oh, I had no idea. What are they doing?”

Smoothing her hands down across one pale thigh, Belladonna sighed. “Last night they came to the fire show past the eternal stairs.  It is quite an elite place filled with some of the most dangerous creatures within the Night Market.  They should not have been there.”

“That was… that was maybe my fault. I told them where you would be and–” she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I think they just have a bit of an infatuation with you and when you turned them down for the festival last night it really affected them, so I thought– wait.” Hazel’s words stuttered out. “The fire show is sanctioned.  It is no more dangerous than any other portion of the market. You just have to have an invite to have a seat.”

“I assure you it is far more dangerous than you perceive,” Belladonna said primly.  “Keep them out of there, Hazel darling. For me.” It was a request, but the obvious threat was there.  While Belladonna would never do anything to harm the sweet little Albright, she hoped the woman knew how serious this situation was and would absolutely use fear to her advantage if need me.  Hazel, though, just wasn’t getting it.

“Well,” Hazel started slowly, “that shouldn’t be a big deal since the lantern festival is once a year.”

“Keep them out of situations like that,” Belladonna repeated. “If I am on a job, assume they need to be nowhere near me.”

Hazel paused. “I’m confused. Are you upset they showed up to this dangerous fire festival? Or are you upset because they have soft feelings towards you.”

It was Belladonna’s turn to shift in her seat. “I am a woman of the night. People having ‘soft feelings’ for me is the hazards of the job.”

“But they’re not a job,” Hazel reminded her.

Belladonna’s eyes flicked away. Just briefly. The grip she dug into her own skin left half moon marks upon her leg and a tear in her lace.  Standing, she gestured down at the table.  “I have taken the liberty of ordering you this tea. I have also left the contact information for the tapioca supplier. I would like it if you would carry this brew from now on. I would much rather give you the business than the fungal excuse of a man.”

“Belladonna,” Hazels eyes were soft, compassionate.  “If you need to talk I– I know that Gabriel was rough but–”

“Why are we speaking of the Warden? He has nothing to do with my concern for your little shop hand running rampant around the market.”  Heading towards the door, Belladonna looked over her shoulder.  “It goes without saying that this conversation will not be mentioned, yes?”

Hazel nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Smart little Albright. You are just delectable.”

Outside, Belladonna looked up at the wisps, her eyes deepening to a fiery burgundy. She needed to feed. The entirety of that last night was an itch that continued to crawl against her spine and she wished for anything to get the taste of elation out of her mouth.  Feeling her nails curl, and her bones crack along her hips, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to rip apart, shed the skin that had carried them and had defended their honor.  With wings of blood and bone extending from her back, she launched herself into the air, leaving behind scraps of lace and chiffon.

Down below, the window to the second story room, remained open.