Belmont

"Why is this taking so damn long?" I muttered impatiently. 

 "Calm down, they have a lot to discuss." 

 I shot an angry glance at Roch and kicked the tire in irritation. "I still don't understand why he had to go alone." 

 Roch sighed heavily and leaned forward with his forearms resting on the car roof, looking at me with an arched eyebrow. "You're forgetting who he is."

 "No, I know exactly who he is!" I huffed with even more irritation in my voice. 

 "Listen," he remained calm, studying me, "I've known him longer than you have; he's been through a lot of shit." 

 "And?" 

 Roch shook his head at my attitude but stayed calm. "Do you love him?" 

I bit my lip—what the hell?! Since when were we best friends? Did he think I was going to open up to him? Idiot. 

Roch waited patiently but must have realized he wouldn't get a response, so he continued. "What I mean is, IF you love him, you should trust him." 

 Sighing, I bent down and scooped up a handful of gravel, starting to throw small stones into a small fountain in the middle of the courtyard. "I don't trust anyone anymore," I muttered. 

 "Not even me?" he grinned. 

 "No." 

 He chuckled and opened the car door before sinking heavily into the seat. "Smart." 

 Three handfuls of gravel later, the door to the mansion opened, and Clocksworth stepped out. My heart raced; I studied his face, but he didn't flinch. He left the mansion with calm steps, but  something wasn't right. I tapped on the metal roof while trying to catch his eye. 

"Start the engine, Roch." 

 Clock was almost at the car when he lit a cigar. "It's fine, Bel, relax." 

 I raised my eyebrows in question but got no answer. Instead, he opened the car door and got in. Why couldn't he just say what it was? I needed facts, not dramatic pauses. Frustrated, I rubbed my forehead and sighed heavily. Just trust him, Bel, I repeated to myself like a mantra, but it was damn hard when he had so many secrets. "

Are you coming?" Roch called from the driver's seat, and I shot him an irritated look. 

 "No, I'm in the mood for a fucking two hour walk!" I snapped at him before I jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. 

 Clock was slouched in the seat next to me, eyes closed and head tilted back, exposing his neck, and suddenly the irritation vanished; all I could think about was the urge I felt, how badly I wanted my lips wandering along that exposed skin. 

 "How did it go?" Roch interrupted from the driver's seat. 

 "Not as planned," Clock sighed, taking a long drag from his cigar, "but in the end, everything went fine." 

 "Fine?" I sighed skeptically but got no response. 

 We were quiet for a moment before Roch chose to speak. "So, what happens now, boss?" 

Two pairs of eyes were directed at Clock, who was smiling to himself. "We're going to kill Calvos." 

 I rolled my eyes; of course, but, "then what?" 

 He looked at me for a moment before placing a calming hand on my thigh. "One thing at a time, Bel. One thing at a time."

Clocksworth

"Explain again!" Marianne's voice was sharper and angrier than I'd ever heard it before, slicing through the room like a whip. Her usual playful tone was gone, replaced by fiery indignation. 

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and raised my gaze calmly to meet hers."We're working for Levi now. That's all you need to know," I said evenly, keeping my tone measured.

"Not a chance!" she screamed, throwing her arms into the air with a flourish so exaggerated it was almost theatrical. "What happened to us taking over Anthony's district? What happened to taking his place beside the princes, huh?! That was the plan!" She paced the room like a caged tiger, her movements restless and charged with frustration.

Bel rose from the sofa and moved to stand beside me, his quiet solidarity giving me a small but much-needed sting of satisfaction. "It didn't go as planned," he said, his voice tinged with irritation, but still level-headed.

"You're kidding, right? It's worse than ever!" she huffed dramatically, pressing her palm to her forehead like she was moments away from fainting. Her sigh was long and overly theatrical, a habit that always seemed more like performance than genuine frustration.

I furrowed my brow and gave her a questioning look. "Hardly."

"Yes!" she cried, throwing herself into the chair beside her, legs flopping over one armrest while her head hung upside down off the other. She gestured wildly with both hands. "Now we're stuck again! Have you forgotten how nice it was to not work for a prince?!" She sat up suddenly, her blue eyes blazing as she pointed a dramatic finger in my direction. "What if this guy's worse than Anthony?! What if he's a total psycho? Or, worse, boring!"

"Nice?" I snapped, my patience finally wearing thin. Shaking my head, I took a step forward, my voice rising. "What fantasy have you been living in, Marie? I don't know what the hell you were doing in New York, but I wasn't sitting around eating candy all night long!"

"Well, I wasn't either," she shot back, pulling herself upright and glaring at me. "But at least I wasn't signing us up for indentured servitude 2.0!"

Belmont sighed beside me, his attempt to place a calming hand on my shoulder more for his benefit than mine. I let his hand stay there, but calm was a distant memory. "Marie, we have the situation under control," he said firmly, but his words bounced off her like rubber balls against a wall.

She plopped herself down on the bed with a defiant thud, crossing her legs and folding her arms across her chest. Her expression was a perfect mix of petulance and determination, like a sulky two-year-old who had decided to wage war against bedtime. "How?" she asked, voice dripping with skepticism.

"We take down Calvo's closest men, one by one," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady despite her obstinance. "Then he's completely exposed."

"And then what?" she shot back, leaning forward now, her elbows resting on her knees. "When he's dead, what happens then? Are we magically free? Are we the new big bosses? Or are we just back to square one, waiting for the next power-hungry tyrant to snap his fingers?"

"Marianne," I said her name slowly, deliberately, forcing myself to sound calm, though my clenched fists betrayed me. "Trust me."

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as if assessing my sincerity. Then, with a dramatic roll of her eyes, she flopped backward onto the bed, her legs kicking into the air. "Ugh, fine," she groaned. "But when this all blows up in our faces, I'm going to remind you I told you so. Loudly. Forever." With a sigh, she got up from the bed and walked out of the room. 

"Should I go after her?" Bel asked, looking at me with worried eyes.

I shook my head, "she just needs time to think."

I felt Belmont studying me. "What?"

"You hate when the rest of us act disrespectfully towards you, but not her. Whatever she does, you turn a blind eye."

"It's complicated," I muttered. He was silent for a while, but I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with that answer.

"When did you actually meet?"

I bit my lip and sighed, "a long time ago."

Fingers caressed my cheek, "I'm not angry, Clock, I just know so little about you."

I met his gaze, "I found her, alone and abandoned in an alley in Manchester."

"In England? Was she a vampire already?"

I nodded, "she had just been turned." My short answers irritated him, and to learn more, he kept asking questions. "So you took care of her?"

I ran my fingers through my hair and nodded, my gaze searching over the desk for something strong to drink. Belmont leaned down and picked up a half-full whiskey bottle from the floor, pouring a glass for me before sitting on the desk and waiting for me to continue. I met his gaze before downing the glass in one go and grimacing. Three hundred years of memories blended into a single soup of nightmares and fragments from a life I had long tried to forget.

"Marianne reminded me of someone," I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. There would be more questions, and Belmont deserved answers; he deserved to know who I was. Maybe he would understand me better when he knew what had made me who I am now. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer the questions because I simply didn't know if my heart could handle processing the memories.

"Who?" he asked cautiously, as if he sensed my thoughts.

"My daughter." I heard Bel gasp sharply, but he said nothing more.

With a sigh, I reached for the whiskey bottle and took a swig before pulling out an old pocket watch from my pants pocket. I caressed the bronze-colored watch with my thumb before opening the lid and handing it to Bel, who carefully took it. I studied his reaction as he looked down at the old portrait attached inside.

"She had your eyes."

I emptied the bottle and flopped down tiredly on the bed, closing my eyes. It didn't take long before I felt the mattress sink beside me, and I heard the sound of chains, feeling the cool metal against my skin as he placed the watch in my hand.

"She was beautiful, your wife."

I opened my eyes and looked into his with pain in his gaze. "I came too late; I couldn't save them, Bel." I took a deep breath, "she was just a child." His long black hair covered my chest, and his cheek rested heavily against me.

Those magical fingertips glided up and down my arm for a while before he gathered the courage to ask, "so, what happened?"

"The French Revolution," I bit my lip and pressed my eyes shut tightly, "it was nothing like in the history books, Bel; it was so much worse. Death, poverty, and hunger everywhere. We were fighting over breadcrumbs." My chest tightened, and it was almost as if I could smell the stench from the piles of refuse on the cobblestone streets. "If I had been a vampire then, everything would have been different. I could have defended them. Helped people, but back then I could only watch." Belmont's fingers continued to caress my skin, a little prompting to keep going. "But instead, I was forced to watch as orphaned, emaciated children sat begging and crying in the streets, women sold their bodies to soldiers for a pittance," I continued with a frustrated and broken voice. I moistened my lips and moved my hand up to Belmont's hair to take a soft strand between my fingers. "The war took my friends and family away from me, Bel; I was alone even before I became a vampire; I had no one left and nothing to lose."

The memories were far too strong; how many times had I tried to drown them with whiskey? But it never helped. I bowed my head and pressed my lips against his hairy skull, "we were doing quite well before the war; my family had a high reputation among the nobility for our clocks. The war changed everything." My arms tightened around his body, and I struggled with tears, "I should never have left them."

"You don't have to tell me more, Theo," he whispered softly, "some things hurt too much."

"I want to tell you," I whispered with a painful smile on my lips because it wasn't whiskey I needed; I didn't want to forget. Not anymore. Belmont was my light in the darkness, and when he was near, the demons stayed away. "We named her Julie after my mother," I continued in a soft voice, "and she had the most beautiful laugh I had ever heard."

"If you could go back in time, would you choose a life as a human with them, or your life as a vampire?"

The question was difficult and heavy; how many times had I prayed to God to get my family back, but life as a human had been so hard, so full of pain and suffering. As a vampire, you could handle most things. "I could never handle being human again, not now that I've lived in this body for so long."

"But if you had never been bitten?" he insisted.

"Forget it, Bel, there's no point in dwelling on old shit; I've made peace with the thought already."

"Thank you for letting me see her," he whispered softly and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you for listening."

Belmont rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I still care about you; you know that, right?"

I nodded slightly and gave his cheek a kiss. He cared about me, yes, but he didn't love me anymore. Not like before.