Cactus Spines
Katherine did whatever she pleased. The vampire world could be a cut-throat one, quite literal, which was probably why she excelled at it so well. She had no particular loyalty to those of her kind and, as was the case now, if no human beings could be found to satisfy her bloodthirsty, sadistic urges, then she was just as likely to indulge them on a member of the undead.

Rather advantageously, vampires had amazing regenerative abilities. Unfortunately, they just did not have the same flavour or nutritional value. At least, not if turned by another.

For that reason, her latest traumatised wreck of a masterpiece had its cries of agony ended by the swift application of sharpened wood to heart. A scream, a puff of dust and it was all over, save for the cough of an irritated throat.

Ashes... And she had not even taken the trouble to ask for a name.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Las Vegas, the city of murder and lust. Had Atia been the poetic sort, she would have written that down.

But the only poems she liked were the ones ending in screams, which meant that the cultural part of the night was over, for now. She had been hovering just on the brink of Earth's reality, watching the vampire work. Marvellous technique, if a little rough around the edges. The undead could be such magnificently brutal creatures.

"That lasted longer than I thought it would." A thoughtful tone, as if she were critiquing a theatrical performance. "I must have run across you at least once before, Katherine Williams, although your face is not familiar. The old are so often forgetful. I do hope you're not offended."

Leviathan's Bride giggled, a happy sound as she walked through the pile of ashes. Her feet were bare and Atia's hair hung loose and flowing down her back. She still had her axe and her thumb wandered along the edge of the blade.

"We should speak. Woman to woman."

The presence was one of filth and decay. To such finely-tuned senses as Katherine, it was enough to make her whirl around in the blink of an eye, weapon at the ready. she was as much a coiled spring as any rattlesnake and was perhaps even deadlier. Taking a sniff of the air, she observed, "You don't stink like no human. An' I don't recall makin' no formal introductions."

Katherine was a superb hunter. A classic example of just what destruction one of her kind could cause, if trained well enough. She glared at the redhead, knowing precisely well of how unnatural this creature must be, but by no means taking kindly to how her domain had been compromised without warning.

Especially by those professing to know personal details without being told.

Had this one been given of the sort to run red with mortal blood, Katherine might have been tempted to bed and drain her. The brunette seemed to enjoy the sensation of inflicting a deep bite, as much as the physical process of feasting, after all. As it was, however, she decided to maintain a healthy sense of paranoia.

"And precisely what might be callin' you in here for a friendly chat, hmm?"

"Oh... Don't be cross." Almost pouting now, her lower lip protruding slightly. A little girl being denied a balloon, but a very warped little girl. Atia took her hand away from the axe, ran the palm of it across her stomach, then up over the curve of her left breast. "I've only come to talk. I should think that a daughter of Leviathan should not mind the praise of her talents, no matter how much you hate to play well with others."

Undaunted by the dark glower on the vampire's face, the redhead took two small steps, bringing her directly into Katherine's personal space. Soothing away the rough edges of her paranoia to bring about, if not trust, then at least a sort of calm. Her invisible court hovered nearby, their silent voices tittering in her head where only she could hear them.

"I smelled your warrior's heart," Atia said and she lifted her other hand to play with strands of clean dark hair. Her voice was soft, reflective, but it was also the equivalent of emotional radiation, sinking down into the brunette's bones until it had seeped into the very marrow of them. "You're such a thing of beauty. Vicious and destructive." Her thighs clenched together, a pre-emptive bit of friction. "Won't you walk with me, Katherine? I have a task that I should like to set for you. A bloody one. You could at least listen. I should be most... Rewarding, if you should."

Katherine was well aware of how certain entities could provoke feelings within oneself. Being one of the undead, she was usually one of those doing the provoking. Nevertheless, she had enough patience and experience to be less automatically in awe of Atia than, say, Grace had been of Elfleda.

"Bloody, huh?"

Katherine definitely had the sense of other things lurking closely. Nasty things. Things, basically, not too unlike herself, which only made her more aware of the need to keep on guard.

Of course, just as with Elfleda, this one had that automatic link with all things of the dark, too. A weird, vaguely maternal feeling. Something which somehow merged with the vampire's inner self, trying to put her at ease. It was enough to at least make Katherine intrigued, even if she refused to allow herself to be as entrapped in this one's sticky web as might otherwise be the case.

Tilting head a little, both amused by and pleased with the attention shone upon herself, Katherine was ready to strike in an instant, but not because of this new entity in her midst. It was simply how she was. A self-trained killer who took the utmost of sadistic pleasure in what she inflicted. A survivor.

And someone who enjoyed being appreciated for the same.

Allowing the stranger to continue toying with the loose ends of her hair, Katherine smiled a predator's smile and slowly nodded. "Alright," she agreed, "lead on and spill."

"So prickly, darling." Atia's voice regained its more adult cadence, but only by a fraction as she entwined her warm fingers through Katherine's cooler ones. "I can feel it like the spines of a cactus. I admire that."

What did Katherine want? With Samantha, it had been easy; she wanted revenge and she wanted her son. The Richards girl had been a little more difficult and Atia had felt her brief struggle before she succumbed. But what of Katherine, who was so very prickly? What did Katherine need?

"There is another who is much like you," she said, as the two of them proceeded down the shadowy street. "An enemy of mine. I have seen her from far away. Weakened now, damaged, but she has unwisely chosen to oppose my consort's plan. I... Seek to send her a message." She cast a sideways look at the vampire, a slyness hiding beneath her smile. "The shadows speak to me of Rhiannon, Katherine Williams. I believe the two of you are... Familiar."

"Yeah..." The vampire replied. "You could say that..."

Katherine and Rhiannon had a healthy level of respect for one another. Both of them had more experience than many of their kind, with the training and force of will with which to apply it. That both recognised the same qualities in one another, was a testament to their pragmatism.

"I figure one of us is gonna' out-last the other, sooner or later. I dig her style, y'know? But what I wouldn't give to get a bite on that one..."

Katherine spoke the words in a wistful sort of fashion. They might sometimes team up for a mutual objective, yet such times were rare and if any actual 'friendship' existed, then it was perhaps a begrudging one, at best.

The vampiress was not saying it out of purely sexual interest, even if her hedonistic attitude to unlife would almost certainly give her such enjoyment. No, Katherine's interests were relatively simplistic. Esoteric matters of philosophy disinterested her, unless they had some sort of link to combat or torture techniques. Katherine's existence came down to what some might see as pointless endeavours: A constant proving of herself in the heat of vicious confrontation.

For Katherine, inflicting pain was an added benefit. What she liked to do was win - and win often. Like a hunter always in search of the next biggest lion, the entire point of her coming to Nevada was to find Slayers, kill and eat them.

Hopefully, even get the chance to turn one.

A blonde named Jo had almost come to grief in such a way, to name but one example.

That was why she spoke of not merely killing Rhiannon, but the act of a bite. The primal, age-old feeling of predator with prey in mouth, fangs slicing down and jaws crushing life from victim. A genuine, no-questions-asked, undeniable triumph.

Human boxers, wrestlers and martial artists tended to get a rush of exhilaration from standing over an opponent, raising fists in the air to capture a tangible sense of glory. For Katherine, such tastes went deeper still. She got the same feel of true victory by literally ripping someone's spine out.

No doubt, Rhiannon would just as much love the feel of cutting the undead brunette's head off or impaling her through the heart with stake. That single moment of perfect clarity, when vampire exploded in a screech of dust. An enemy of untold reserves of strength crumbling to little more than ashes between her fingers.

Perfection.

And if truth were told, Katherine would much rather go down by the hand of someone like that Slayer. Someone able to give her a decent challenge and perhaps even emerge victorious from it.

If that day ever came, though, she fully expected to be the winner.

While the shadows of which Atia spoke, continued to enlighten their Mistress further, Katherine blinked the redhead's way, wondering on the reason for this sudden spark of interest.

And, for a moment, entertain the thought of what her neck might taste like, too.

"Why? Got somethin' in mind, Princess?"

[Open to Atia:]