When you came in the air went out (for wantadistraction)

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New Orleans was vibrant and alive--admittedly with problematic elements, like all the dead things walking around undead. Peter had watched them for his first few nights in the Quarter and caught a few of them watching back. They hadn't made any moves toward him though, either considering him not a threat or not knowing what to make of him. If they weren't going to bother him, then he resolved to not bother them, either.

There weren't any other wolves, though, and he wasn't sure if that was good--no one to challenge or treat with over territory--or bad--where were they? Granted, it was a big city, and wolves traditionally liked to live closer to somewhere they could easily run, and for the moment he'd filed it away as that and been grateful. Since he intended to stay for a while, making nice in someone else's territory would have been awkward.

Better to just claim it as his own.

He bought a house in the Garden District, with enough trees around it for privacy, and a certain mysterious charm, wanting to be close to the Quarter, but not right in the midst of the noise. Besides--the Garden District was where Tulane was. And Tulane? 

Well, that was where Lydia was.

By careful observation, he'd worked out most of her schedule, knew which dorm she was in, which room, which window. The campus was lovely with lots of shaded areas and overhanging trees and he'd managed to find a bench under one with a perfect view--if you had a wolf's vision. Jeans, a broken in blazer and a leather messenger bag and anyone catching him reading there figured he was a professor. At night, he found it easy to blend in to the shadows, watching until she closed her blinds.

He didn't spend every night there, of course. Really. Just enough to know she was all right, that no one was bothering her. Enough to snarl at every boy who walked her home or he suspected of doing more. Interestingly...a couple of them seemed to drop out of school, disappear, shortly after any such encounter. Not that he had anything to do with that. Really.

She was his. He'd marked her, chosen her, bonded with her. He'd only been waiting for her to grow up before coming to claim her.

Now she had; and here he was.

He hadn't approached her, yet. The perfect time hadn't come. But he'd been in her room, breathing in her scent, leaving his though only another wolf or one of the dead things would catch it, know she belonged to someone.  He never took anything, but he left a long stem rose on her pillow each visit. Blood red, thorns still on. He came at different times, always careful to vary them, to stick to the shadows in case she'd left a camera running. Usually he did it when she was out, but once he'd slipped in, leaving it for her while she showered, and another morning she would have awakened to it next to her, like a token from a lover.

Which it was.

Tonight, she'd gone down to the Quarter with friends, and Peter followed. Watched the boys who bought her drinks, watched her dancing, laughing, followed her along crowded streets. Eventually she'd separate from the pack, and he'd follow, then, too.

He was tired of waiting.

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[wantadistraction]

New Orleans.

Lydia Martin still didn't know what had drawn her to a city all the way across the country for school but it had seemed like the perfect decision for her when it had come up. Yes, her friends had fretted and worried (Stiles had been the loudest) but she had wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and Beacon Hills without going to the other side of the world.

Plus there was something about New Orleans that just pulled at her. It was old, mysterious and mystical. She figured out rather quickly that it had to do with being a banshee but at least the rest of her enjoyed it too?

Okay, so she wasn't so thrilled about having to live in the dorms for her first year but it had been easy to get one of the few dorm rooms that as meant for only one person because Lydia didn't do room mates. The only person she could see herself living with would have been Allison and even that would have been a stretch. She needed room for everything she had, okay?

Though maybe having a room mate would have helped with all the strangeness lately. Like whoever was coming into her room once a week to leave a rose on her pillow.

At first she had assumed it was some other student but now she wasn't so sure. In fact she wasn't sure of a lot of things lately. Like the feeling of being watched and followed, constantly. It was a feeling she knew, one she had experienced before, but there was no way it could be him. He was across the country in Beacon Hills or somewhere else.

Not that she was thinking about it right now though. She had decided to push it all away so she could focus on having fun. Fun with her new friends who didn't know that she had been labeled a town nutjob stalked by a psychopath. They didn't know she was a banshee who could sense and find Death. They just thought she was Lydia Martin, resident genius with great clothes and killer looks. They had already complimented her on her mint colored mini dress and the killer white high heels to match. Of course she eventually found herself a tiny bit bored with the whole thing as she fell back from the group, waving them ahead as she took out her phone to check her texts. Allison was talking about coming and visiting soon. And there was a couple texts from Scott and one from Stiles wondering when she was coming back for a visit of her own.

Pausing where she stood, she was musing over which text to answer first when she felt the chill creeping up her spine again. Someone was watching her.

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They'd left her all alone, and it didn't matter that people were milling up and down Bourbon Street, spilling out of bars and drinking as they walked. She might have been as alone as if she were in the middle of the bayou. Walking these streets alone was an invitation for trouble. A drunk who got too handsy. One of the dead things.

Him.

He and one of the dead things were about to have it out, because he was not the only one watching his girl. One of them was, weaving his way toward her, an intent look on his face. Peter moved swiftly, intercepting the vampire and throwing him against a wall in an alley. The vampire flashed fangs, and Peter flashed them back, growling low, his eyes glowing red.

The vampire shrank back, and Peter pierced his chin lifting it with an extended claw.

"Mine." He tilted his head, studying the vampire. "You understand?" When he go a nod, Peter lifted his claw and carved a slow line down the vampire's cheek. It healed, but a little slowly. "You spread the word. No one touches her."

Another jerky nod, and he let the vampire go, moving back out of the shadows to lean in the alley mouth and watch her, delicately sucking the blood from his fingertip.

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There was just a moment there when an old familiar feeling, a ghostly whisper of a haunting memory, seared its way through her brain and caused her breath to hitch. There was also the tingle underneath it all. A tingle that she had only ever felt while around him. Whether it had been a warning or something else, she had never looked too closely at that. She wanted to assume it was a warning after the things he had done to her but....he wasn't here. Couldn't be here.

No, it was just a strange feeling she got now and then. Mostly when someone odd brushed by or she found herself near a group of people who had a strange intense look of hunger on their face whenever they looked at her. They made her nervous and not because they looked like they could devour her at any moment but because they were cloaked in Death.

She felt suddenly breathless then as she looked up from composing a reply for Allison. She took a quick look around before surging forward suddenly, her heels clicking over the pavement as she hurried to catch up to her friends. Except she didn't see them anymore as she had missed seeing which bar they had gone into. Slowing down to a stop again, she blinked, unaware of the fact that she was a lot closer to the ghost from her past.

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Peter could keep this game up for a while, but he'd been doing it since he got to town, and the vampire approaching her had his blood heated up, impatience searing. The sooner he'd taken her as his, the sooner everyone else would know to back off.

He moved out of the shadows fluidly. No flowing coat, but he'd let his hair grow out just a bit more--something about the romanticism of the city called for it. Called for a bit more flash, too, which was why his jeans were black and well-tailored, not rugged and blue, and his shirt soft as silk.

Moving toward her, Peter plucked a rose from one of the sellers walking the streets, tossing her payment. His approach was from behind, silent in the crowd, and he reached for Lydia, one arm sliding around her waist to pull her back against him, while his hand swept her hair aside and he bent to put his lips to her ear, trailing the rose down her neck before presenting it to her, still pressed to her back.

"Hasn't anyone told you that a girl as beautiful as you shouldn't walk these streets alone? You never know who might be watching."

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Lydia would have been fine if the game had gone on a bit longer even if she wasn't aware of what was going on. Anything would have been better than being surprised in the middle of a busy street by him.

She had been in the middle of dialing a taxi when the other slid around her waist, pulling her back against a broad chest that should have been familiar if it wasn't for the surge of fear that caused her mind to go blank and her breath to hitch. Then it was the hand in her hair and the feel of the flower sliding over her skin that did her in.

In fact she didn't even hear what he had said as her startled scream blocked it out.

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He should have expected the scream, but he'd thought she'd go the more frozen route. It wasn't as loud as it could have been--and thank all the gods for that--but it was enough to make him flinch back and several of the nearby vampires wince and shudder, all their gazes snapping to her.

With a bit of a growl, he clapped his hand over her mouth. "You are going to draw the attention of every monster in the Quarter, and that is not attention you want." His eyes flashed red over her shoulder, glaring at those watching them.

The vampires all backed away. A few tourists looked like maybe they wanted to say something, but then a raucous group of frat boys spilled out of one of the bars, blocking off Peter and Lydia from view in the crowd. Peter took advantage of the distraction to pull her, moving fast, carry her into an alley, through it, off the main street and across another into one of the public squares full of trees and benches and walled off from the streets and homes.

Only then did he stop, though he still kept a hand over her mouth and a grip on her arm. "If I take my hand off, do you promise not to do that again? I can't fight off more than a couple of them at a time."

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Oh god, it was him.

She knew it as soon as his hand slid over her mouth and the growl of his voice filled her ear. Her heart jumped to start racing faster than before and not entirely from fear but also from his close proximity.

With the back of her head pressed against his shoulder, she stared over his hand at the vampires that ere looking at them before suddenly turning away and she could see there was a tourist or two tempted to intervene but she prayed they wouldn't. It wouldn't end well for them if they did, she knew that much. At least she had a fighting chance with him.

Still, she wanted to struggle and kick and scream as he hauled her into a nearby alley and then further into a park sort of area. Panting against his hand when he finally stopped, she turned her head just enough to glare at him and then look said she couldn't promise anything at the moment.

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His hand gentled on her, turning her so he could walk her back into a marble column of some statue or another. Pinning her there with his body, he let go of her arm to run his hand gently over her hair, smoothing it down, playing through it lightly.

The other one he kept pressed over her mouth.

"Shh...you don't have to be scared, sweetheart," he told her softly, words and the gentle stroke of his hand a complete contrast to the hard--very hard--press of his body against her and his hand over her mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to let any of them hurt you. I just wanted to see you."

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Her heart stuttered as he turned around and walked her backwards till her back hit something cool and hard. She had told herself she wouldn't be affected like this again. That she wouldn't be scared, not of him and not of anyone, but it was there still. She could taste it like chalky acid at the back of her throat almost like she might get sick.

Her eyes were wide over his hand as well, widening further as he actually started to pet her with a soft touch while shushing her. He was there to see her?

Swallowing thickly, she tried to get herself under control then, trying not to think about the way he was pressed against her as he kept her trapped. Finally she managed a nod almost like she was agreeing to behave.

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His smile flashed at her nod, though he wasn't stupid enough to think he was going to win her that easily. Her heartbeat was thundering, and he felt a flicker of remorse for that. He'd thought he'd come so far, but apparently not, or things had gotten all twisted up again.

But he slid his hand away from where it covered her mouth, down to rest against her neck, cradling gently, not even aiming for an implicit threat.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said quietly, eyes dark as he studied her face. "I realized you'd be startled, but not so afraid. I thought surely you knew I was coming for you, that you felt me like I feel you..."

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"Well what did you ex-expect?" She hated herself for the slight tremor in her voice and she tried to cover it by clearing her throat. "You accosted me in the middle of the street without any warning. Anyone would have screamed."

Then she latched onto the part about knowing he was coming and she arched a brow. "Wait, what do you mean..." Her eyes filtered down to the rose and then snapped back to his face as she felt the first spark of anger.

"You! It was you!" She glared. "You've been leaving roses."

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He frowned a little at the anger, gaze somber as he studied her. "I thought you'd know it was me..." Why he thought that would comfort her, god only knew. "I didn't accost you. I tried to give you..."

His gaze went to the rose, and he lifted it to offer it to her again.

"Yes." The frown grew a bit. "Who else would have been?"

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"Peter. Walking up behind me and suddenly grabbing me when I have no idea you're even in town was scary." She pointed out.

But, looking at the rose, she knew he was right. Who else would it have been? Granted it could have been any lunatic in the world but they would have done something now. Kidnapped and cut her up into tiny pieces by now. So it was honestly relieving it was him, in some ways, and she recognized how fucked up that was.

Hiding the tremble in her hand, she reached out to take the rose. "Those little purple flowers would have been more obvious."

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He frowned some, having to recognize that, in retrospect, she was right. "I should have gotten your attention another way," he murmured in agreement, frowning slightly. "I wanted to surprise you, not terrify you..."

Admittedly, he'd never meant to terrorize her. It just seemed to be a side effect.

Peter smiled a little as he let go of the rose. "Those are a bit harder to handle in physical form." Poison, after all, even to him. "And not as romantic."

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Lydia wouldn't agree with the thought that he hadnt meant to terrorize her because she could certainly recall the times where it had seemed like that was intentionally his purpose.

"But why surprise me? What are you doing here in New Orleans? What..."

Romantic.

He was worried about the flowers being romantic? The idea of that caused her to go blank as she opened her mouth and then closed it. "Roses are definitely romantic but it would have been nice if there had been a name to go with them."

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Peter gave her a look that said she was clearly not keeping up. "You're here. Where else would I be?"

He brushed his hand lightly over her cheek again, cradling her jaw and letting his thumb stroke back and forth across her cheek.

"I thought you'd know it was me. I will always come for you."

Whether the Princess Bride quote was intentional or not was anyone's guess.

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"Um, Beacon Hills?" She replied dryly, wondering how she would make the jump between him and being here just because she was.

Her heart jumped then as his hand came to her cheek, the simple brush of his thumb over her skin stirring such strange and wild emotions in her that she wasn't even completely sure of what she was feeling.

"I didn't know that." She wet her lips, swallowing thickly. "I thought after you had gotten what you wanted..."

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"There's nothing left for me there," Peter said, watching her intently, listening to her heart's erratic beat.

The movement of her tongue over her lips, drew his gaze. "Needed," he corrected softly. "I got what I needed, at the time. Not what I wanted..."

Maybe not even what he needed most of all, but that was a lot to say, to admit.

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It really wasn't hard to figure out what it was he thought he wanted but she still found herself needing to ask.

"What is it you want?" She asked ever so softly, feeling breathless and just a touch dizzy as she watched his face closely.

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Peter's thumb traced very lightly over her cheek again, and he ducked his head to half-nuzzle, half-nibble along her jaw to her ear.

"You."

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The action stole her breath then as the nuzzle with the hint of teeth made her head spin while sending a shiver down her spine. She had known the answer before he even said it and it left her dizzy to realize that maybe he had had more planned back on the night he had bit and slashed her. Or maybe it was something he had come to realize later.

"Why? Why me?"

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"Because you saved me." His lips were still at her ear, nibbling at her earlobe and nuzzling between words while his fingertips traced her jaw, nails sharp, but not quite claws. "Because you're beautiful, incredibly intelligent, immune. Powerful. My snow white queen..."

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Lydia felt like she couldn't catch her breath as he continued to nibble at her earlobe, setting off little sparks over her skin and rushing throughout her body as her eyes drifted closed. It was wrong to be affected by him considering everything that happened but her body was happily betraying her.

"What do you want from me?" Again, she already knew the answer, or she suspected she did, but she needed to hear him say it out loud in no uncertain terms.

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He pulled back to look at her, a dim red glow in his eyes.

"Your mind."

His fingers brushed over her temple, then slowly slid down her cheek, along her neck, over her collarbone,lower to boldly caress over her breast, cupping it and tweaking one nipple lightly before moving inward to press over her breastbone.

"Your heart."

His hand was moving again, down her side, over her hip, to the hem of her dress. He dragged it up, fingers trailing along her inner thigh. His knee worked between her legs, parting them until his hand could curl over her mound, fingers lightly probing through her panties.

"Your body."

He continued to stroke her slowly, hunger making the glow in his eyes brighter as they slid over her before meeting hers again.

"Everything."

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It was a seduction she could have seen coming from a mile away but at least he was doing it with his own face now instead of hiding behind the mask of his younger self.

Watching him, almost entranced, her lashes fluttered when his fingers slid down the side of her face and her heart started racing faster when they dipped over the arch of her collarbone. Then she was gasping softly, arching into his hand when he caressed her there, tweaking the nipple so it hardened beneath the lace of her dress and she felt the start of a throbbing ache between her legs.

Made even more intense when his knee worked between her legs to part her thighs, giving him easier access as his fingers slid over the thin scrap of material that did little to hide the reaction she was starting to have to him. It made her entire body tremble then as a surge of pleasure shot through her to leave her buzzing as her breasts started to heave in time with her ragged breaths.

Leaning back against the statue when she felt like her legs might give out, she felt a flush of heat steal into her cheeks when she realized then that she was in the middle of a small park, in the middle of New Orleans, with Peter Hale's hand between her legs. She should have been shocked and angry at them both but she wasn't. No, instead she felt suddenly powerful as she saw the hunger in his gaze then.

Suddenly she felt like she could have just about anything in the world that she wanted.

"And what do I get in return?"