Whatever he had been going to say to Azazel faded on his lips as she tensed and Galina moved, lightning quick, to place herself between them. Ishmael was almost too startled to react.

“Are you trying to protect me, Galina?” He declared, his shock almost giving way to an uneasy laugh though this could not be any less the time, with Azazel on the edge - and very possibly anything else he said now would be further inducement towards her viciously attacking him. “I’m flattered,” he said almost dryly, his eyes flickering from the back of Galina’s head to Azazel just past her.

Or maybe he should be offended if she thought he could not handle himself, defend himself perfectly well. He had been coping alone for the last century - and Azazel was a threat he knew.

So if there was a touch of suspicious confusion at the gesture, an arch of his eyebrows, an unasked question why, it was simply because he could not work out why she would risk herself for him. Not a surprise that she would choose him over Azazel, but even so: beneath the surface camaraderie of the caverns, the general rule in danger had always been every vampire for themselves.

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There was seldom a moment when Azazel would compare herself to Ishmael, however, if there were one where she would concede, it'd be this one. Her expression of surprise matched Ishmaels perfectly as she watched Galina slide easily in front of her to completely cover Ishmael.

What in fuck's name was going on? The little blonde goody two shoes defending Ishmael? Azazel could distinctly detect a warm humming originating somewhere from right between her eyes as her body stiffened and her back went ramrod straight. She zeroed in on the two of them, her expression slowly morphing from shock into extreme distaste. "Why are we so jumpy today, hmm?" She crooned, her voice smooth and velvety while her posture portraying the exact opposite. "It wasn't as if I was going to actually hurt him, Galina, really you must be going senile."

She snorted in derision but her posture did not relax even a millimeter. What perfect little allies, so sweet and innocent, they practically made her want to fucking vomit if she had any sort of gag reflex. And why did Ishmael like her of all things? He'd never shown her any sort of affection like that, not that she wanted any.

Was the blonde one in love with him? That would be rich, she was years older than him. Old enough to be —

Ah....

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The moment she moved she knew it had been the wrong move. Ishmael's voice almost mocked her, but Galina kept the emotions from her face, letting her features reflect a calm she did not feel. She deserved Ishmael's reproach, only he had no reason to know way. But it was Azazel's response she responded to instead.

"Perhaps," Galina answered coolly, "That has something to do with being incarcerated for a year." She leveled Azazel with a stare, that reminded her of years ago. Another predictor, a different type of threat. But they were all the same, the postures, the taunting. Galina had been trained to stand her ground to act as if nothing had rattled her. "You realize the actual threats." The words calm despite their weight, her gaze determined. There was the possibility of a dream realized, Galina knew the taste of that. A dangerous thing, dreams.

  

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an amazing bee work of art

Ishmael supposed he could see where Galina was coming from. A year or a century of being locked up would make one prepared for threats, almost the point of paranoid.

He could also see Azazel’s point of view there - he trusted that she wouldn’t actually attack him. That said, out of the corner of his eye he could see her stiffened posture and Galina’s continued failure to quite back down either, and so Ishmael did not fancy leaving them to their own devices just yet.

“Relax, Azazel’s not going to hurt me,” he assured Galina with an easy confidence, in spite of the fact he and Azazel had just been sniping viciously at each other all evening. (It was messy, but they had always been a little like that; Ishmael didn’t take it personally. They had too tangled a history to mean nothing to each other, even if they both pretended otherwise.) “I was the one who turned her, so...” she wouldn’t dare, he had meant to finish, only as he returned his gaze to Azazel, he caught something odd in her look, a dawning expression in her eyes. He knew her well, he could always read her without trouble.

“What?” He demanded, turning on her with urgency, because he couldn’t read this and he needed to know what had just flashed through her mind. Or -

...the one who turned... Maybe that was it. Maybe he knew.

No, it couldn’t be.

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The urge to roll her eyes was blocked by her observation of Ishmael's expression of burgeoning bewilderment. It wasn't often that she saw it on his face, and when she did were the times when she wished she had a device to capture his expressions.

She wanted to snap back at Galina, the self-righteous moron, however, that was mitigated by her most recent discovery as she looked back and forth between the vampiress in front of her and...

Was she right, though? It wasn't as if sires and those they turned had any sort of similarity like regular humans. But as much as she hated to admit it, Ishmael was right; sure she fantasized occasionally about dismembering him, but not even she, who joyed in killing others, wanted to think about if she could carry it out.

That wasn't even to mention the red that clouded her vision if she heard about someone else wanting to do the same to him. Ugh —

"You're smart Ishmael," she said, but decided to settle her gaze on Galina instead. "Why do you think she was so quick to defend you? It can't be out of sentimentality, can it, vovó?" Perhaps it was in poor taste for her to call Galina 'grannie'; especially when she could see Ishmael was just now coming to this realization seconds after her. Seemed a poor return for all he'd done for her - or didn't do for her.

This train of thought was nearing dangerously close to self-reflection again.

So to stop herself, she giggled.

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   Ishmael

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Ishmael's voice was light behind her, Galina could do nothing but give a small inclination of her head and move slightly aside. Let them think it was only paranoia, that the secret - the shame - that she had carried for over a century would remain buried. But even Galina could see the light dawning in Azazel's eyes, could hear the edge of it in Ishmael's question. She didn't like what Azazel implied and replied lightly, "You read more into things than are there Azazel." It was not a lie, not a denial, it was only an observation of Azazel's own inclinations. Perhaps she could deflect this. But it was only so long that she could. Only so long before that seed grew into a thought that brought questions she knew would one day haunt her.

  

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an amazing bee work of art

The thing was, Azazel wasn’t stupid. Maybe Ishmael liked to tell himself she was - and she was chaos personified, to be sure - but she was as quick-witted as anyone, and there was nothing she was better at than spotting the right loose thread to pull on that would see the whole thing unravel.

But maybe she was putting thoughts into his head, seeing motive where there wasn’t one. Maybe it was misplaced paranoia. Maybe she just hated him for not being so quick to defend her. Maybe ruining his camaraderie with Galina was revenge for that. He didn’t know.

He just didn’t know.

And Ishmael fucking hated not knowing. This was more than a century thrown into doubt, this was - he had always thought it was a woman, though he had never seen her face. He couldn’t tell how much of his memory was true, the rest sketched in through the agony and the delirious thirst. Azazel could enjoy it, Galina could try and hide her stricken look, but all Ishmael could feel was a crackling tension in the air and the idea that he’d been tricked somehow, lied to for the last few years, taken for a fool.

He would much rather do this without Azazel present, but he felt if he didn’t attack it now the wisp of a truth would dissipate and never be his to find again. He stepped away from them both, turned away for a minute to try and smooth his head, control the expression on his face. “No?” Ishmael asked finally, meeting her eye to see what she would do, though now he wasn’t convinced he could trust anyone but himself. “So you’ve never visited New York, Galina?”

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This wasn't something she should be involving herself in, Azazel knew that. But then again there were about a thousand other things that she should have let alone and didn't out of sheer voyeuristic sentimentality. Still, she had to give the old bat credit — her poker face was good. But Azazel believed her ability to see through them was better, and she narrowed her eyes, wagging her pointer finger at Galina. "That wasn't a no, velha," she responded before mirroring Ishmael and turning her back on the elder vampire.

Perhaps it was against all her instincts to do so, however being in the presence of Ishmael, regardless if Azazel's assumptions were true, she a) didn't think Galina capable to just launch at her in an attack without a reason to claim self-defense and b) Ishmael was there. Even if Galina hated Azazel, she still knew Ishmael was her creator, and thus would never seek to harm Ishmael that way.

Instead, Azazel hoisted herself onto a ledge that someone had undoubtedly made in the cavern wall and kicked her legs back and forth in the air. Her lips pursed slightly as she observed, wondering where this would end. Oh, the times when she actually wished she had someone to snack on to enjoy the impending festivities. Maybe Ishmael had a blood bag somewhere around here.

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It was rare that this feeling, this need to be accepted, the need to hold the world together, and the fear that those carefully held threads would slip from her fingers. Rare as that feeling was, it was there as she looked at Ishmael. It reminded her of her weakness, of her youth, of her humanity. Shattered hopes and dreams were all too easy to picture. Instead of letting any of this show in her features, or even her posture (she knew too well how to shelter these feelings, how to act as if they were not present - she had been trained in a dangerous court after all), Galina tilted her head and looked at Ishmael.

"I traveled far and wide over the years, you know that." She kept her voice even. He was going to hate her. She should have told him. She should have gone back for him. But she hadn't and now she had to live with that and make the situation as best as she could. "Of course, I've been to New York City." The decision made echoed in the gentleness of her voice, her lack of denial or her lack to deflect the question. The decision surprised her. But her world had gone up in flames enough times, she could start again. She always did.

  

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an amazing bee work of art

No, it wasn’t a no.

“I’m - not fucking doing this,” Ishmael barked suddenly. With either of them. He couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina when Azazel was perching up there as a smug, jeering audience to this, and he couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina if all she was going to do was obfuscate or - admit it like that, so gently and so cryptically that he was going to have to tear her apart with his bare hands to find the whole story in it, to find her reasons.

And he - did feel like he could tear something apart, right now, felt a surge of something implacable. Rage, or hurt, or some long-stifled, savage sorrow.

She’d been to New York. And if it had been her, she’d - been there, and then she’d left him; and if she had done it, then by omission she had lied to him as long as he’d known her here, as if he was stupid, as if he was not worth telling. He had always been close to honest with her, more open than he was with most people. Abruptly, Ishmael found he couldn’t meet her eye. And leaving too soon, washing her hands of him... that was not unlike what he had done to Azazel, so he could not meet her eye right now either, feeling the way he felt.

No, he didn’t want to talk to either of them. “Just - get lost, both of you,” he bit out, grinding his teeth. Never mind that he’d said that, or that Galina had just returned, or leaving Azazel and Galina alone together was never a good idea - Ishmael was too impatient and his head was reeling and he couldn’t be here until he had some self-composure again; so instead he stormed off out towards the forest, happy to leave the caverns behind tonight.

Ugh. Women.

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But good god, this woman was avoiding the subject more than Azazel had avoided her family when she was alive. A roll of her eyes was not enough to convey exactly how pathetic the old woman’s attempts were at coaxing Ishmael into calm. She was additionally conflicted because she knew what was coming; Ishmael hated when she beat around the bush about simple trivial topics. She could only imagine what kind of outburst he would have if she didn’t get to the direct answer soon.

The sound of his voice ringing throughout the cave proved her to be right yet again, and she kicked her feet again in a victorious wiggle. ”Oh, fine then if you insist, darling.” she drawled, hopping down from her perch. Her lower lip jutted out in a pout as he was the one who got to make the exit as opposed to her, so she settled on fixing Galina with a glare that didn’t quite match the crinkle of a smile at the corners of her eyes. ”See what you did?” She said before tossing her hair over her shoulder and exiting herself - but not before making sure to bump her own shoulder with Galina’s.

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In all the times Galina had imagined this his reaction was much as she imagined. Walking away in disgust. She was nothing if not pragmatic and it had been the very reason she had never gone out of her way to explain their past when they had met again on these gray isles. But still his departure cut her to her soul - she deserved no less after what she had done, truth be told. But the sudden absense of him made her realize just how much she had enjoyed knowing she had him on her side.

His progeny however, she wouldn't miss in the least. "I caused?" She said archly as the younger vampire left the caverns and Galina found herself completely on her own for the first time in a very long time. Exposing secrets did that it seemed.

  

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an amazing bee work of art