Kill or be Killed; Eat or be Eaten
Needing a few moments (ironically enough) of silence -- or at least a few moments away from all the hustle in her living room with people talking from all angles where she couldn't keep up with the conversations anyway -- Caroline slipped into the kitchen, ostensibly to bring out some iced tea. When in doubt, make food. There were enough humans out there that it would probably be appreciated.
She felt Cord's entrance into the kitchen not by the subtle feel of his footsteps in the floor but instead by the sense of prickling along her skin that she always had when he was near, the instinctive uptick in her heartrate because he was a first-order predator. Turning, she rested her hip on the counter to look at the vampire, her eyes roving his features slowly. It is perhaps the first time she has really studied him in this way, as if looking for answers to some question only she knows.
Cord watched her take his measure, not flinching or looking away. Instead, he did the same in return, trying to figure out what the hell it was about her that he had let get under his skin. And after a minute, he wasn't any closer than he was before. Of course, he thought, wasn't like she hadn't gotten underneath everyone else's too. Whole damn Natchez was going to go up in flames because of her. And here Cord was, standing in her damn kitchen instead of being where he ought to be, outside the enclosed walls, where there weren't too many people. But these days, there was always too many damn people.
"I don't think you got any fuckin' idea what it means to be turned." As usual, he got straight to the point. "If you did, you wouldn't even think about it."
Caroline pursed her lips thoughtfully. She shot a brief glance toward the kitchen door but returned her gaze to his almost immediately. "I don't," she agreed softly. "And I don't want to be turned at all. Why do you think I've fought it for so long? With Evangaline dead... maybe I don't have to. With her alive, I believed it to be a necessity."
"Good. Too many of us dead people walking anyway around here." As if putting word to action, he walked closer to her, until he was standing next to the counter, close to Caroline. "Get too many of us, and shit like tonight happens."
He paused for a moment, then spoke, despite his better instincts to keep his mouth shut. There was something about her...
"You wanna know what it really means to take the blood?"
She gave no ground -- though she really had nowhere to go anyway, caught in the corner of the cabinets as she was. Caroline's blue eyes raised to Cord's gaze and despite the uneasiness that grew the closer he got, she tipped her chin upward to watch him speak. "Yes," she whispered. Her mouth was dry as she said it, the tilt of her head exposing her throat to him. She has offered her blood before, but this seems to be a deliberate invitation. "But more than that... I want to trust the person who holds my fate in their hands. Explain it to me."
"Being dead ain't just a matter of not breathing anymore. It kills everything until every part of you is dead. Ain't no more fun. Ain't no more sad. Ain't no more caring. Ain't no more love. You think you're still going to love that husband of yours after you're dead?" Cord shook his head slowly.
"The Beast...," and Cord said it in a way that made the capital letters clear, "the Beast takes us all. That's the difference between Gangrel and the rest. We know we're animals and we don't play pretend otherwise." Cord's fangs had slowly emerged as his voice became a guttural growl. He leaned in close to her throat, the smell of her unavoidable fear strong in his nostrils. "I could rip your throat out right now, and I might feel something....or I might not."
She could feel her pulse thundering rather frantically in her chest and even to some degree in her ears. It was always this way when she dealt with Cord -- he brought that edge of danger with him, the fangs and growl both frightening her and yet making her feel somehow safe. It was a different kind of dangerous edge than the one her husband still had about him, but it was what had drawn her to both men. "So what stops you?" Caroline squeaked just a little as she asked it, though she couldn't hear herself do so.
Cord leaned back, breaking the spell. "More trouble than its worth." A brief pause. "Kind of like being a vamp."
Caroline breathed a little easier as Cord drew back, her shoulders loosening up slightly. She nodded slightly. "I worry," she admitted softly, "that Eliza isn't a lot better than Evangaline. Zadie says that when someone turns you... you become theirs. That what you felt before, even as a bonded human, is gone; all that matters is your sire. Is that true?" The reason behind the query is obvious -- her grandmother's life is now in Eliza's hands. And she's frightened about what that means.
"Ain't completely true. It can be strong, but it ain't everything. My sire," Cord spit on the floor as he said it, "left me to rot. I ain't got any warm feeling for him. In fact, I drained him dry myself. World's better for it. Not that I care that much about the world. It does fine on its own."
He shook his head. "Damn Tremere. They're a messed up bunch. They got a sick relationship with their sires, like they're some kind of family. Every clan has some way of pretending they ain't dead. Toreadors got art, Ventrue got sitting around and being ruling bitches. Tremere pretend to have a family. Gangrel don't pretend."
Caroline nodded slowly, watching him. "So if push comes to shove and one or both of us is turned... It's gone? Zadie still seems like Zadie to me, Cord. All the things that make her who she is, all the things that make Aunt Willie who she is.... They seem the same. Are you saying that they're faking it?"
"Nah. Like any other dead body, they're in the spasms of death. They just don't know it. Or try to forget they know it. You can fight it for a while...but the Beast always wins, Caroline. You think Zadie made gargoyles out of human body parts before she got turned?"
Caroline wasn't no different than any other human. All fooled because they wanted down in the deep of their heart to believe you could live forever without having to pay the price. Cord didn't have a lot (or any) book learning. But if he knew one thing, it was that the cost always got paid. You could push it off to everyone 'round you, and you might last a while longer. But the piper always came a'callin'.
Caroline nodded slowly. "Thank you, Cord. For telling me the truth. Neither of us ever wanted this. But now that we're stuck... I'd like to do the best we can to not make things worse." She grimaced. "I guess that means we better decide if we're going to leave Eliza in charge."
Glancing toward the door, Caroline but her lip. "I wish I knew the right answer. Or even if there is one," she murmured under her breath. Regret colors her features as she looks at him. "And thank you for tonight, too... I wanted the blood very much." So much so that she fought him tooth and nail, for all the good it did.
Cord nodded tautly. "Eliza's going to have to die or one of us will. Eat or be eaten."
There was a long moment of silence while Caroline studied him, and then she said quietly, "The devil we know may be better than the devil we don't, you realize?"
"If Irina don't kill Boone, Eliza will kill her. If she kills Boone, Irina'll have been responsible for the deaths of 3 of my brothers. At point, I either gotta defend the pack and kill Irina, or get ripped apart myself." That was just the way it was.
Oh God. She'd forgotten in the crush of everything that Irina had been given that order. Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded. When she opened them again, she told him, "I guess we better get back out there, then." She swallowed hard. It was going to be a hell of a night.
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