It was an early night at the office for Dr. Briar Lindquist. Only two patients to tend to, each of them well into their therapy. After the second left, she sent Thomas home early. He had refused to leave until she gave her word that he would be compensated for the time, and that if the phone should ring, she was entirely capable of scheduling her own appointment, just this once. As soon as she gave him these assurances he was gone. He didn't give her a second glance, he didn't ask her why she was dismissing him, and he didn't inquire into what she was doing with the rest of her night or anything else. It was why she had hired him. She knew nothing about him personally, but she did know that he wasn't the least bit interested in or attracted to her. And that was perfect.
Especially on nights like tonight, when she felt uneasy, craving peace and quiet. As she walked into her private office, she pulled the band from her hair that held it tightly in a bun, letting the coco-colored tresses, shining like ink, spill down past her shoulders. The band was tossed on her desk, and she pulled a key out of the inner pocket of her short, modern cut suit jacket. Shrugging the pale gold jacket off, it was draped over her chair with a fluidity that was inhuman. So was the quickness with which she came to be in front of one of the several locked cabinets in her private office. From this one, she pulled out a half-filled bottle, and a glass.
The liquid was red, it was warm, and it was entirely unsatisfying. No sooner than when she sat back in her executive chair and took her second drink from the glass did that glass get plunked promptly on her desk with a look of revulsion. Drinking from the bottle rather than a being was such a good, nice thing to do. And Briar tried to be good - in the name of making her mask all the more airtight, in the name of quickly suppressing her hunger in between appointments, in the name of some vain attempt at humanity out of respect for those who lay on her couch. But good as it might be, it certainly didn't make her whole. There were too many instincts, too many desires, that couldn't care less about goodness.
Tonight neither did she. The remaining liquid in the glass was disposed off, the rest of the bottle was locked away, and her professional clothes were shed for something more genuine. The dress, fashioned out of rusty orange silk, had delicate spaghetti straps and hugged her body in a way that was tasteful, romantic, matching the feel of the late summer season. Over it, a small crochet sweater that fastened just underneath the bust. On her feet, peep toe sandals. A small purse of the same shade of brown as her sandals was slipped over her shoulder, and she left her place of business behind.
Walking down St. Charles Street, the thick collection of scents of the freshly arrived night stirred her like the deepest kind of itch. Behind closed lips, her tongue played against the sharpness of one of her keen eyeteeth. Normally she wove a tight mask around her to conceal what she was, and it fooled even the shrewd. But tonight that mask was loosened, and the graceful saunter of Briar as she made her way to a section of town which held more life had an achingly poetic sway.
She was hungry, but she was looking for more than a simple meal. Tonight, she was looking for something to make her whole.
It had been a busy yet productive day for Alexi. Practice at the studio for five hours, showing Declan around and giving him some kind of idea of what the job expectations were for the receptionist position. Then dinner at a fine Italian restaurant a few blocks away from the studio. Some ensalata caprese, sliced tomato, mozzarella and fresh basil was an appetizer for the hungry Italian who made short work of his pasta, bread and a glass of red wine. The psychic medium felt restless, so rather than get into his Fiat and drive back to the house he shared with his roommates Steven and Taylor, he took a walk.
He was on St. Charles Street, walking with an almost unnatural grace to his step. Alexi had his hands in the pockets of an Italian leather jacket, and his unusually colored golden -green depths studied the dwindling crowd, seeing light around bodies. Human auras. But there was one out of place. An aura of black, that was so intriguing to Alexi that he followed the person that was the bearer of the aura. It turned out to be a woman in a skirt, and Alexi canted his curly ebon head to study the aura at a safe distance. It swirled around the woman like smoke, but had streaks of red in it. Like red lightning. Something Alexi had never seen before.
He tried to keep back, because he didn't want to seem like he was some kind of stalker. There was much the young ballet dancer had to learn, but subterfuge wasn't one of them. He nearly bumped right into Briar, and took a step back with his hands raised. "I am sorry for being a'rude. But you aura...is very dark. I've never seen anything a'like it before." he said rather lamely. He felt like a complete ass, standing there in his Calvin Klein jeans, and a black T-shirt that read "Versace." He wore leather sandals with the toe in, and came damn close to stepping on the woman, with his 6'2" frame.
When he had visions like seeing auras, or spirits he often impulsively blurted out to anyone in particular about what he had seen. Alexi had to learn how to temper his skills, because not everyone was so understanding, or wanted to know they had a shitty aura. All he knew was that the woman either dabbled in something dark, or she was not human. He'd heard about different races of people in the world, but they were mostly humans right? Alexi had no other reason than a bad aura to prove otherwise. "My name is'a Alessandro Bellarmine." he introduced himself to the lady. "Very sorry for running into you, very sorry." he said in a thick Italian accent. "Are you okay?" he asked. She did look sort of pallid in complexion. Maybe she was sick?
She had opened herself up to all the night could offer her and quickly she was getting lost. It was not every day that Briar allowed herself such abandon, not within the confines of this city at least. She had a practice here, and thus a reputation to uphold. She could be as Dionysian as any and always craved the days she could release all of herself like a badass bacchanal, but normally there was a time and place. Tonight's desire had crept up on her and it made her sloppy.
She should have sensed him following her. Heard the footsteps, caught the fact that his scent was not fading, should, would, could. But she didn't. It wasn't until she stopped suddenly at a street corner to consult her instincts about which way to turn that those instincts said move very loudly, and Briar stepped to the side and spun just in time to keep him from crashing into her. The tension that popped into her stance had something predatorily poised about it, like a beast ready to spring at a moment's need, and her eyes were keenly on the watch. So no wonder the first thing he said to her was that he was sorry about being rude, she probably looked like she had a mind to slap him. Or something a little more primal than that.
Eyes brown and inviting like toffee narrowed slightly as he spewed the truth about her aura. The one night she chose to unmask in this city, and she was met with a human who could see that which is normally unseen? She didn't question that he could possess such a talent, she knew it wasn't a lucky guess for him. Briar had always followed the paranormal like mortals follow their religion, ever since she'd read the article about Edgar Cayce when she was seventeen all those decades ago. Even back then there were people at Cayce's compound who could do what this man did - the difference was that she hadn't had that dark aura back then.
So the question was what the hell should she do now? First, she dropped the predator from her posturing, letting her stance melt into something more delicate and feminine. With it, she added charm. Her deeply rose-colored lips pulling into a enticing smile, one that showed no more of her teeth than she wanted to show. See her aura though he might, that was no reason to put her two sharpened teeth on prominent display and she had perfected a smile that concealed them long ago. "I'm fine," she assured him. It was stated with such ease and confidence, how could she possibly be anything but fine? "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. And no, I'm not a ghost," she added with a coy tilt of her head, and a tinkering of laughter in her voice. As if she was trying to suggest to him that thinking such or anything like it was the silliest thing in the world.
And yet she didn't say anything about his comment about her darkness. Silly man, pay no attention to the aura behind the charm curtain. That's exactly what the silky demeanor of the psychologist and her smile seemed to say.
"The soul of man is immortal and imperishable." –– PLATO
There was a pregnant pause between Alexi and the woman he narrowly missed bumping into on St. Charles Street. He had told her that her aura was all but evil, and had introduced himself. He never did explain how he could see her aura though. "Um..no I don't'a think you're a ghost. I know when I see a ghost." He took what she said literally, because of his difficulty with the English language. You would think that a person that knew how to speak Italian, Portuguese, French and Spanish would already have learned English, but Alexi was getting a crash course in it by being in New Orleans as a UNICEF Ambassador.
Alexi was really sorry. But not exactly for almost running her down, her aura needed to be cleansed pronto. He would have offered but she was staring at him like she was going to actually hit him for coming too close to her as it was. The muscled ballet dancer had poise and Italian charm though. "I was just going for a walk, it seemed like a nice night to do that, do you mind if we walk together? Perhaps I can tell you more, if you want me to, or we can stop for some coffee or something? asked Alexi. He still didn't know what she was, and when her eyes stopped narrowing and she put on a small yet charming smile, he didn't see the hint of sharpness behind her rubied lips.
Color him dumb. She was laughing softly, and he laughed along with her, a husky infectious kind of laugh. "That's preposterous, no?" A hand gracefully lifted to rake his fingers through his ebony curls. Apparently, Alexi felt compelled to make it up to her, even though she hadn't given her name to him even after he introduced himself. Perhaps in her shock of hearing that he could see her aura, she had forgotten. Needless to say, he introduced himself again. "Alessandro Bellarmine. Most peoples call me Alexi for short. I am a cavalier, or male ballet dancer and UNICEF Ambassador for New Orleans. I am opening a ballet school in the lower Garden District for underprivileged youth." Then he finally said to her, "The reason I see your aura is because I am a psychic medium."
Briar looked amused. Genuinely amused, not the kind of amusement that a cat has when it bats a mouse. She had a terrible, terrible soft spot for mortals touched with paranormal gifts, because it was her passion and obsession. Who knows, it could be the Ardeur's downfall someday. As it was right now, it softened her smile, and eased her posture into a more bone fide relaxation. "Preposterous," she agreed whimsically, her toffee eyes containing an extra radiance that was so very nice to look at, and yet another contrast to her blackened aura. Her talent for hypnosis went far beyond any class or book. But this dancer was safe from that, for now.
She added with gentle assurance, "I know why you can see my aura, Mr. Bellarmine." While she didn't speak Italian, she had been alive long enough to know how to decorate the syllables of his name so that it would ring with its proper lyrical flow. "I have a degree in parapsychology, and am its lifelong student." What she didn't say, however, was how long that life had been so far.
But she did give him her name. "Dr. Briar Lindquist, Licensed Psychologist and Hypnotherapist." She did not offer him her hand. She had considerably loosened her mask when she'd earlier stepped outdoors, so if they were to shake hands he would feel the coldness of her skin. So instead, she pushed the conversation forward with her easy, exquisite charm. Despite her darkened aura, when Briar put her will behind it her sparkle could light a room. Such was a gift of her immortal blood. "In fact I would love to study your gift for my research...but perhaps that's presumptuous of me," she decided this with another airy wisp of a laugh, and a little shake of her head.
"So maybe you're right, and we should start with a walk." A small pause, and then she added. "Unless my occupation intimidates you?" It was asked with a faint tilt of her head. There were many who shied away from spending their leisure time with someone of her profession, too afraid that everything they said or did would be judged by her. What those people failed to realize was that she was no judge. She made no rulings about the mind, she did not hold up any mind to any kind of laws. She was an analyst, as were her colleagues, and that was a very different thing.
"Coffee does not mesh with my palate," she added vaguely, with a delicately offered shrug of her slender shoulders. Her toffee eyes met his with a calm gaze when she said such, with no unease or apology about it. In truth, no food or drink agreed with her since she was given the blood. But Briar had never missed either, not once. It was only inconvenient at times such as this, because breaking bread was such a big part of the human culture. It made it harder to blend. "But I've always admired dance. Not many disciplines are as liberating as they are precise, which is what makes dance so wonderful." She flattered him, yes, but there was truth behind her words too. Briar really did have a deep respect for dance, even if she herself wasn't a dancer.
Alexi seemed rather shocked at the fact she already knew what he was. Not too many people really knew that he was a medium, unless he mentioned it. But her statement took him aback, and so did her precise pronunciation of his name, Bellarmine. Briar, got it exactly right, without a reminder from him. This time she did give her name, and he felt far more comfortable when her gaze warmed up and she didn't look so evil. Her body language also became less tense, something the dancer could spot right off the bat using his powers of observation.
"So should I call'a you Dr. Lindquist, or just Briar?" Alexi asked, as they made their introductions. He wanted to make sure that he was addressing her correctly. "I've never met a psychologist before. Especially one that can get into'a the mind of a medium." he said not realizing he was as close to the truth as he could possibly get. When he heard the part about wanting to study him, he said with a husky laugh. "There's not'a much to me. I love life and'a my dance, but you are'a free to study away, Dr. Lindquist." he said using some formalities.
What caught his interest more was the fact she was a hypnotherapist. "So you'a hypnotize peoples? That'sa very interesting to me. Do you get them to pretend they're a monkey? That would be a' funny!" he laughed again, taking a few steps down the street with her. Briar had declined the offer of a drink, but they didn't need coffee to get to know one another. "I was thinking a ballet dancer and a psychologist/hypnotherapist couldn't be further from'a polar opposites." Alexi said.
Aside from being blessed with an excellent physical physique where he was chisled like a Roman God, he had good looks too. Pointing out that they had a street to cross, he paused to let the cars cross at the light before attempting to cross the street with Briar. "Dancing is my true love, a place where I can just be alone with myself, and express feelings and emotions that I might not be able to release when I am not in the studio or performing." His hands were free of his pockets, and swung gently at his sides, ready to talk with Briar or just listen for that matter.
When he suggested that she had gotten into his mind she looked amused, and it played in her cryptic little smile. She offered a light shrug of her shoulders, as they set their casual pace down the street. "You can call me whatever makes you comfortable, so long as you don't have any plans to become a patient of mine. Then it would be Dr. Lindquist, no exceptions." Now that she no longer felt startled, and he wasn't questioning her further about her aura, Briar's voice eased smoothly into a warm, honied tone. A soft tickle on the ears, like a summer breeze. No wonder she was a hypnotist.
She was slipping back to why she'd come out to walk in the first place. She'd let her hair down coming out here, and it was going to stay down. While it didn't show outwardly in her inviting disposition, there were cravings and instincts rumbling under the surface. The itch of desire which was unending in her bloodline encouraged her to let her eyes wander over his body a bit more slowly, to notice its subtle contours and musculature, to watch how he chose to manipulate those muscles in movement, and to tease herself with a very brief glance at his neck, where her keen brown eyes could see his pulse beating there just underneath the surface of his skin.
It's what caused the delay in her answer when he asked her more about her occupation. Briar had been busy teasing the sharp point of one of her eyeteeth behind her closed lips as she daydreamed hungered little dreams, and a firm blink is what helped pull her back to the more humane practice of small talk. "Not that kind of hypnosis," she answered wryly, with a short blurt of a laugh. "Though some of my clients wish to be taken into a trance where they are willing to accept suggestion, yes. Others desire the hypnotic state to use it as a means of regression, to uncover lost memories or emotions. Still others hope that the liberation the trance affords will help them discover and remove blockages, and loosen their inhibitions to help them be truly honest with themselves, and me." A tiny grin ended the brief pontification, and Briar purposefully focused her captivating toffee eyes on the road ahead, and not him, so that she did not snare him unintentionally. "That was probably a lot more than you wanted to know."
She clasped her hands behind her back as they walked, considering the idea of opposites. "Sometimes what appears opposite at first can actually be more same than we first think. After all, people choose therapy to express and release emotions that they feel they can't share elsewhere. Otherwise, I don't think I know enough about dance to say…I've never really danced much, not for a long time." When she was very young, back in the 1920s, there were socials, of course. But once she'd been given the blood, Briar had cut some things like dancing out of her life. To mask well she had to be carefully controlled with her movements as it was, without highlighting her preternatural grace with dance-like grace.
"When I said I'd like to study you," she added with a short glance and a coquettish little smile, "I meant your gift, and how it operates. Your love of life and your dance would be safe from scrutiny."
Alexi grinned and said, "Since I'm not a patient, I'll forego calling you'a doctor. Briar would be'a just fine." said Mr. Bellarmine. "You sound like you'a been to Italy before, yes?"Not much went past his notice, and he did notice her looking him over and checking him out, his cheeks turning red. Alexi took very good care of his body, through a regiment of good diet, and burning off all the calories from eating pasta, just through his practice of dance.
He had looked away by the time she had focused her attention on the pulse in his neck, which was probably much more crucial to Briar than checking out his musculature. By the time his golden green gaze shifted back to look at her, he was rubbing the blush out of his cheeks, and she was answering his question about her job. There was a pregnant pause as she stared and snapped out of it, and Alexi wondered what she had been looking at.
He found it very interesting indeed how some of her patients could be fed suggestions while under hypnosis, even though it was apparent that she did it it for therapeutic reasons. Alexi couldn't even begin to imagine how or why a patient could go back in time with their thoughts or emotions over some circumstance in their life. He also didn't think that he had any reasons to try to do so himself, less his accident when he received "the gift."
"No, its fine. You told me a lot of things I had no idea about." he chuckled softly, making up for his blush earlier. Briar had very expressive eyes, and her feminine form was rather pleasant on the eyes as well. But Alexi didn't blurt that information out. It was bad enough that her aura hadn't changed much while talking to her, but the reddish flecks became more prominent, at least to the medium. "You should try to dance more!" he laughed.
Of course he was drumming up business for his ballet studio. But he wasn't knocking Briar over the head with it. If she was interested in joining, he surely would go out of his way to help her. Maybe her aura was due to a collection of dealing with troubled minds in her practice, and it was difficult to cleanse that out. Either way, her chakras were not clear, choked with darkness, like volcanic ash.
He listened carefully as they walked, about her desire to study his gift, and how it worked. "It just turns on by itself, really." said Alexi. He really didn't know how to shut it off, but he was learning to block out negative spirits, as well as persistant good spirits that were determined to speak with him and through him. But he was okay with her trying to study his gift. No one else had bothered to do such a thing. Ever. This would be a first.
