CH 19: Wear This

The two arrive to Alastor house, not saying a word as they enter. Alastor quickly locking the door. Abiding to Alastor's clear cut instructions, Esme walks over to the landline phone and dials for the police, quickly explaining that her house had been broken into. She doesn't mention Margo's disappearance, strictly following the plan to meet this mysterious person in the park. If they wanted to play this game, they were playing by his rules. Esme hangs up the phone on the receiver, turning to Alastor, "They'll be here soon to interview me."

Oh, she was so good, too good actually. His darling needed his darker side, she needed him to protect her, and she listened very obediently to his specifications, "I'll be downstairs." He walks over to her, kissing the top of her head and nuzzling his nose into her hair. Her hair smelt so heavenly, so sweet. There was nothing that was going to threaten taking this away from him, "Do you trust me?" He asks her softly.

"With my life."

"Then don't go downstairs." He instructs, walking away to his basement door and opening it, descending down the stairs. Alastor was a smart man, always one step ahead of those around him. He knew that as soon as Esme walked into that park to meet that beast that did whatever he did, that she would be at his disposal. He couldn't trust her not to act on impulse and get herself killed, and he couldn't be beside her. He looked through his books, searching for the perfect incantation to accomplish what he had in mind.

 He soon reaches into his jacket pocket, taking out his knife, and holding it in between his teeth. He opens his left hand, a cloud of green smoke appearing with several runes and symbols floating across. With his free hand, he swipes his finger across the blade in his mouth and allows a few drops to pour into his other palm, the symbols becoming larger and the smoke growing. With one snap of his bloody fingers, the smoke clears and inside his hand is a small ring. It's small, wrapped in silver, the gem being a bright green (the same shade as Esme's eyes), and there are several protections runes encrusted in the band. He smirks and places the ring in his pocket, going to the sink and rinsing his hand from the crimson, wrapping it up with a bandage. With another flick of his wrist, the room transforms into your typical basement, no signs of voodoo magic or any magic at that rate. 'Ooho this is going to be a fun evening' he thinks alongside a sinister chuckle, his eyes switching to a bright scarlet as he walks back up the stairs.

Esme is being interviewed by the police, sitting on Alastor's chair near the fireplace in the living room. The detectives ask her useless questions such as inquiring into any specific missing pieces, what time the intruder entered the home, if she knew the person's identity, etc. 'Well...' her hunny sarcastically snickers in his thoughts, '...if she knew who it was then we would have taken care of it already, right morons?' 

"I'm not too sure. When we arrived to the house, it was already like that. I just don't feel comfortable returning there, I was hoping you all could keep it safe." She says, wiping a few tears from her eyes and fiddling with the tie on her collar. It was a delightful little show for Alastor to watch, knowing damn well that she was not a weak, timid woman. This little darling was waiting for the hours to count down so that the two of them could strike. This little facade was simple to handle the logistics of reporting a classic breaking and entering, nothing more. She was not crying from a robbery, but they didn't have to know that. Alastor walks up to her, leaning on the chair. 

"I offered the young lady to stay with me in my guest room. She'll be safe here." He flashes that charming smile of his that could easily fool anyone he pleased. This town, this pathetic yet enjoyable little treat, always melted like putty in his hand. These fools, these absolute imbeciles never tracked his scent, never suspected him, and worst of all they weren't even looking. It was him, the radiohost next door that was cleaning the trash off of the sidewalks, keeping people like Esme and Margo safe. They were useless. 

The police nod, "We'll have the house secured immediately. We will check in tomorrow on you to see how you're doing, and possibly escort you back to your home." They say, heading towards the door.

"Thank you kindly. I just hope whoever did this was down on their luck, you know?" Esme responds, sniffing in some phony tears, "I would hate to get anyone into trouble." She pouts.

"Don't worry, dear. The police here know what they're doing." 

One particular policeman scoffs, "Don't you fret, little lady, I'm sure whoever did this just wanted to give you a good scare. With such a sweet face, it's only natural you would have some fans." That was very much not appreciated, but the both of them knew how disgusting men could be. The better half of them internally rolled her eyes, while the worst half wondered if his blood would be as vile as his wording.  The group laugh off the comment and say their goodbyes before they exit. Alastor closes the door and Esme sighs in annoyance as she throws her tissue away in the garbage. "Nice performance." Alastor chuckles.

"So, what now?" Esme questions, turning to him. He smirks, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the ring. Esme's eyes widen as she takes a step back, "Umm, Al, I-I'm flattered, but I really don't think now is the ti-" 

"Don't get any ideas ~" Alastor teases. He reaches for her left hand, "I won't be able to go in the park with you. Not close by anyway. This will protect you, make sure I know where you are at all times, connecting us without having to be near one another." He explains, attempting to slip the ring on her pointer finger - but it doesn't fit. He raises a brow, trying the other fingers. "That's strange." He gets to her ring finger, it's a perfect fit. His eyes narrow, "Sheer coincidence." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. The ring begins to glow as there's a green smoke that floats out of it and into Esme's eyes. She winces and shakes her head.

"What was that?" She questions, looking concerned. Her hands flying up to her eyes and rubbing them softly. It didn't hurt, but they did sting slightly 

"Surely you've heard about the magic of this city." He smirks. "It's an old family secret. Better if it stays that way." He winks playfully. That was so vague it almost hurt, but if it was going to help her find that bastard that hurt Margo, she would do anything.

The night carries on, Alastor eventually making them some dinner. It's a light seafood broil, this time going light on the spices for her sake. If someone were watching from an outsider perspective, the normality within them patiently waiting to meet this phantom man would appear insane. For goodness sake, these two are acting like two domesticated partners closing up their day after a hard one at the office. Esme sits down with him and begins to sink her teeth into the shrimp, noting it's sweet and slightly chewy texture, "I'll never get over you cooking." 

"Merci, mon amour." He smiles, beginning to eat from his own plate.

There was that uncomfortable silence yet again, the only noise being once again the movement of their forks against their plates. Overtime, her thoughts became more clouded with mental images of what that bastard could have done to her beloved sister.  Would justice be delivered by a blade or a revolver? Which one would be just as agonizing as the pain within her heart knowing that somewhere Margo was frightened beyond belief, "When we find that asshole..." Esme mumbles, her fingers tightening around the metal of her utensil, "Will you let me at him?" She questions.

"Certainly." Alastor says, keeping his eyes closed as he sips as the broth from his spoon. He was pleased with himself that the incantations seemed to be doing their job, quickly overcoming her brain and releasing those thoughts within her that he loved to witness. The slight change in her gaze when her mind would darken and the cunning nature within her would leak through. Esme was a strong woman, but in the core of who she was, she was lead by emotions and a grey moral code. He loved those moments where that became blurred and she swayed on the tightrope just a little bit. 

It was several hours later, now 3 am, and the two were preparing to go outside. Esme walked over to his kitchen, grabbing a knife and tucking it into the waistband of her trousers. Alastor smirks watching her, packing a cloth and a small vile in his jacket pocket. Esme checks her purse, taking out her silent pistol, loading it, and reinserting it into her purse. There was a mutual understanding between the odd couple as they depart from the house. The silence of the New Orleans streets only leaving Esme in her deep thoughts, her rage boiling up further. She takes a deep breath and remembers what Alastor told her, she had to keep a level head if she were going to get anywhere with this. They reach the entrance of the park. 

"It's almost time, cher. You may want to head in. Remember, snap when you're ready for me." He says, lighting a cigarette and going to hide amongst the dark trees. Esme nods and walks into the park, getting deeper into the center. It's dark, quiet, and humid from the rain, the weather almost reflecting the intensity of the situation. The silence is haunting, only being broken by twigs and branches snapping with her movement.

"Well, hunny bunches, I thought I'd never see you again..." A voice calls from behind a tree. She knew that voice, it was familiar from a distant past. Esme's head whips around, seeing a tall man appear from the tree.

"V-Vinny?" Esme questions, stepping towards him. It was Vincent Caputo, Jimmy's son from way back in the day from New York. It had been years since she had seen him and he had grown into a full man, approximately six feet tall with perfectly groomed jet black hair slicked back into a combover. When she had last seen him, he was a teen himself, but now with him towering over her - she sensed that he meant business. 

"Shocked to see me?" He smirks. "Thought you could get off easy heading to New Orleans?"

"No, my father sent me here. You know Manhattan was my stomping ground."

"Hmm stomping ground...interesting choice of words." Vincent looked down at her, his face displaying a mockingly sweet expression and tilting ever so slightly to the right, "Esme, I would love to tell you want you want to know, but then you never really did know what happened to my father, correct?"

Esme's eyes widened at his words. What that was this was all about?! "Is that what this is about?! Vinny, I was a young girl, it was my father's business. It had nothing to do with Margo and I!" she shouts. "Your father had business with my father, he was a handsy man who didn't know when to stop. Margo is nothing like us! If you want answers, direct them to me and my father - leave her alone! Where is she?!"

"Oh don't worry dear..." He begins, walking closely to her, leaning up and stroking her hair, "She's all safe and sound." Esme sighs. 

Thank God. 

She knew he didn't have the heart to do that to such a young girl. 

"Right up there with St. Peter at the pearly gates. Too bad you'll never get to meet her there." Esme's eyes widen so much they tremble in her sockets. Her teeth tighten against each other, her hands clenching into fists, rageful sounds emerging from her throat. She swallows her screams and raises her hand to her head, snapping forcefully. There's a cloud of black smoke behind the man as Alastor appears behind him, roughly holding the cloth to his face, pressing so hard against the man's face that he's certain his neck will snap. Vinny soon goes limp and Alastor throws him to the ground harshly. 

The two approach him, standing over him looking down with vengeful glows to their eyes, one dark crimson and the other an emerald green.

Alastor looks back at her, smiling wickedly with a sinister gleam to his eyes, "Let us finish the job then, huh?" He says as he snaps his fingers and the three disappear into a cloud of black smoke. 

🖤Words: 2185🖤

~ Artemis🦌💗