Chapter Text
Korra
“I can feel you watching me,” Korra called out into the night. Jinora had finally left to go back to wherever she presently called home, and Korra had decided to take the risk of taking the long way back to her apartment.
It was dangerous to be out at night, even for her.
Still, she hadn’t really expected to be bothered. No matter how many warnings went out, and no matter what way those warnings were transmitted, there was almost always easy prey somewhere.
Korra was many things, she knew, including many things that she wished she wasn’t, but easy prey was definitely not one of those things.
Her right hand slipped under her bulky jacket as she waited to see who her stalker was. There was a reason her jacket was so bulky. It hid many things.
“Your senses are keen,” a woman’s voice said from the shadows of the alley Korra had been crossing. Or, at least, a voice that sounded like a woman’s voice. There were many things that lurked in the shadows of Republic City.
Korra had been trolling for action, she was willing to admit to herself. A conversation was not the action she had been hoping for, and certainly not the action she had been expecting.
Sometimes only blood could answer for blood.
“Of course,” the voice continued, “that is not surprising, considering your pedigree. Long have I wished to speak to the Living Bridge.”
Korra winced as she heard the night stalker’s title for her. “As long as the Living Bridge stands, shall balance abide.” Or so the saying went.
It was a very convenient saying for vampires and their servants. The balance was heavily in their favour, at present, making the saying more of a threat than anything else. Things were bad for humanity while Korra attempted to maintain balance – should she fail and fall, then things would get even worse.
It was an implication that kept her up at night, but that also did not stop her from occasionally making risky sojourns, like she was that very moment. A woman needed to cut loose every once and a while, after all.
Even the woman who was still sometimes referred to as the Avatar, in whispered tones, by those people who still had hope in such things. That was a title that made Korra wince even harder than the vampires’ title for her.
“Oh, have you now?” she finally asked. She kept her hand in her coat, fingers resting lightly on the metal stakes she kept handy for unexpected emergencies. If this was a younger vampire, then she had a chance, even one on one with no surprise.
If this was an older vampire, and hostile, she was dead.
Or worse, depending on the creature’s mood.
The shadows shifted slightly, and a woman’s form exited from the dark mist in front of her. Green eyes that glowed even though there was almost no light were the first thing Korra noticed.
The eyes made Korra relax slightly – only young vampires kept their original eye colour.
Then Korra saw the rest of the vampire as the mist parted, seemingly of its own volition. She was tall, and beautiful. Stunningly beautiful.
Korra moved the hand underneath her jacket slightly, and gently brushed her finger against her warning sigil. It was still cool, which meant that there was no glamour being used upon her.
This is who she is, without artifice.
This is who she was, when she was still human.
Plump red lips smiled softly, as if the owner of those lips was fully aware of the thoughts rushing through Korra’s mind. Long, black hair cascaded, to rest upon the pale skin of the vampire’s bare shoulders.
The vampire was wearing a long, black dress, split at one thigh at least, with stockings upon the leg that Korra could see. The low vee of the top of the dress emphasized flat stomach and the inner curve of breasts.
Korra blinked, and deliberately bit the inside of her cheek. It was a crude, but often effective way of clearing her head. Nothing changed in how the vampire looked, but Korra felt that she was perhaps a little less mesmerized by the vampire’s figure than she was before.
Even when a vampire wasn’t actively glamouring you, they were still glamouring you. They could stop doing it as easily as they could stop drinking blood.
“Yes,” the vampire answered, “I have. Your presence is well known for keeping the city calmer than it would be otherwise.”
“And that is good for vamps, of course,” Korra retorted. “A calm populace.”
Green eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps at the implications of what Korra had said, perhaps at the casual slur Korra had used, perhaps both. There was no way for Korra to tell.
“Is not peace more desirable than war?” the vampire asked.
“Blood runs in the streets,” Korra said, “and people do not dare go outside at night. How is that peace?”
Silence reigned for a moment. “I’m not here for debate,” the vampire finally declared.
“Then why are you here?”
The vampire looked away for a moment.
What? They never break eye contact.
“My name is Asami,” the vampire finally said as she looked back at Korra, “and I need your help.”
Korra just stared at her for a moment. Of all the things she had thought she might hear, that had not been on the list.
“You need my help?” she repeated back, sort of stupidly, in her own, somewhat harsh opinion.
Red lips smiled again. “Yes,” the vampire, Asami, repeated. “I need your help.”
The vampire looked around as if only now becoming aware of her surroundings. “I do not wish to discuss my needs here, of course.”
Her needs? Phrasing!
“Well, I’m not going to your place, wherever that is, nor am I inviting you into mine!” Korra objected.
“Of course not,” Asami replied. “There is a cafe open down the street to which we could perhaps retire. If that is acceptable to you, at least?”
A cafe. That was a fun euphemism.
The only places that were open at this time of night did not cater to human clients, after all. Regular bars and clubs that catered to humanity had faded away before Korra was born, after the war.
She had read once that the only thing more terrible than a battle won was a battle lost. She couldn’t remember who wrote it, but surely that person would have agreed that the concept applied even more to entire wars than it did to individual battles.
Keep the balance.
It was all she could do, in her small, pathetic way – that, and hope that someone, somewhere, somewhen, figured out how to restart the war, and this time win it.
She brought her attention back to the present, and noticed the vampire gazing at her. There was something different in her eyes, but Korra could not determine what.
“Hungry?” she asked, somewhat bitterly. A vampire this young probably no more remembered the war than she did. But the vampire got to enjoy her spoils any time she pleased.
In any way she pleased.
The fact that both of them were too young to remember the war was the only thing they had in common.
“Always,” the vampire answered with a slight smile, “but such is the nature of my kind, is it not? Still, the number of vampires who cannot exercise self-control is dwindling. And that can only be a good thing, do you not think?”
She turned, and Korra discovered that the vampire looked just as good from behind as she did from the front. Asami turned her head to look back at Korra out of the corner of her eye. “You never answered my question. Is a cafe an acceptable neutral ground?”
“You seem like you are overdressed for a cafe,” Korra finally answered. She had her anger, and her distrust... but she also had her curiosity. It wasn’t every day a vamp came asking her help.
It wasn’t any day that happened. At least before today.
Asami smiled again, and this time the smile seemed more genuine, if Korra was any judge. “As compared to you?” she asked.
Korra sneered as she looked down at her over-sized jacket and blood splattered pants. “I’m dressed for work,” she answered.
“Yes, well, the place I’m thinking of caters to all sorts,” the vampire, “from the refined, to the... not refined,” she ended simply.
“Alright,” Korra finally agreed, letting her curiosity overcome all the warning bells going off in the back of her mind. “If I have your word I will be safe, of course.”
This was the test, of course. Vampires lied all the time, of course, just like people, but when a vampire gave its word, nothing outside of death would prevent it from keeping it.
And considering they were vampires, sometimes death didn’t stop them, either.
If Asami didn’t give her word, or if she fudged it, then it would be time to see if a peaceful exit from the situation was still possible. It probably wouldn’t be, at that point, but still Korra would try.
The vampire turned to face Korra. “I pledge to you, Korra, Living Bridge, Avatar, that, for as long as you remain in my presence this night and upcoming morning, you are safe from harm from me, and that I will do my utmost to protect you from any other harm that might befall you.”
Once again, the vampire turned away, but this time she started walking, as Korra stood completely still, her mouth wide open. She had never heard of a vampire making such a complete promise before.
Ever.
“Fuck me,” she muttered. The thought of the power of Asami’s oath was enough to distract her from the titles the vampire had given her.
Asami chuckled. “That wasn’t part of the oath, I’m afraid.” She paused slightly, then continued walking. “This would be a good night for it, though, for you. Not many go into carnal relations with one of my kind with the guaranteed knowledge that they will walk out alive again.”
Korra started, then began following Asami. She needed to be in the vampire’s presence for the oath to remain in effect, after all.
“It was a figure of speech,” she said.
“Was it?” Asami asked back. “How disappointing.”
Once more, Korra bit the inside of her mouth, hard. There were few things that were safe to do with a vampire, even one that had given a seemingly ironclad oath. Flirting was definitely not one of those safe things.
The taste of copper filled her mouth, and Asami hesitated slightly in the middle of a step, then resumed her confident stride. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked.
You smell it. You smell the blood.
It only took a few minutes of walking and they reached what the vampire had called a cafe. The walk had been... quiet, Korra realized. The standard noise of the city had vanished near them.
Or near Asami, Korra admitted to herself.
The apex predator caused a hush in the concrete jungle, as lesser predators went still.
We used to be the apex predator.
Humanity.
But the war had been lost and the world had changed.
Now there was a new balance.
Wait. Did she call me Avatar?
Korra had known it was unlikely that her primary, human-oriented identity had been kept a secret from vampiric society, but for it to be used as part of an oath...
If she hadn’t been nervous already, now she would have been for sure.
A part of her wondered if she shouldn’t be terrified, rather than just nervous. Satisfying her curiosity didn’t seem nearly as important it had a few minutes ago.
Asami reached the door of the cafe and pulled it open. Then she stepped aside and gestured from Korra to the door. “After you.”
Korra stiffened her resolve, and stepped through the open door... into what looked like a quiet coffee shop. She paused and looked around.
This looks like... the past. Her eyes got blurry as she thought about a world she had only heard about, in dreams forced upon her by lives long gone.
“This used to be a common human thing, did it not?” Asami spoke from directly behind her. “Also, you are blocking the door.”
Startled, Korra took a couple of quick steps forward. There was a counter, with an attendant behind it. The man bowed as he noticed Asami enter the building. “How may I serve you, Mistress?” he asked.
Korra just looked over at Asami. Since she had been expecting nothing, except maybe bags of blood hanging from the ceiling, she shouldn’t be disappointed by how the attendant ignored her.
Yet still, for some reason, she was.
There is no fight left in the hearts of humanity.
The world has grown dark, and cold, and passed us by.
“Do you enjoy coffee?” Asami asked as she ignored the attendant’s greeting. It was her due, that greeting, simple acknowledgement of vampiric superiority, from a lesser being to a greater one.
Korra wondered if, in the years or decades since Asami had been turned, she, for a little while, had acknowledged the humanity from which she rose.
She used to be one of them.
One of us.
“I’ve never had it,” Korra responded simply and truthfully. Tea was far more common, and far easier to obtain.
“Nothing strong, then, I think. It takes a while to get used to the bitter flavour.” She turned to the attendant. “Two of the sweeter coffee drinks. Add alcohol to mine.” She turned and looked outside for a moment. “And close the shop up. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
Again, the attendant bowed. “As you desire, Mistress.”
“There is a private room in the back,” Asami said to Korra. “Follow me.”
Again, Asami led the way, and again, Korra enjoyed the view, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
The place was empty outside of the vampire, Korra, and the attendant.
“This place operates at a loss,” Asami said as she led the way to the back. “My father said it was a vain pursuit, and of no value to our family.” She shrugged very slightly as she entered the back room. “He was correct, of course. I knew that even as I argued firmly in favour of this place’s creation.”
There were comfortable looking couches in the private room, and Asami sat down on one of them. She gestured for Korra to sit across from her.
“Then why?” Korra asked after she had sat down.
“For the same reason I ordered alcohol to be added to my drink. For the experience. Even though I know the caffeine, and the sugar, and the toxins of the alcohol will have no impact on my body whatsoever, still I want to smell it. Taste it. Feel it.”
Green eyes stared deeply into Korra’s blue eyes.
“While I still can,” she finished.
There was silence for a moment, and the attendant brought them their drinks. He placed the one without alcohol in front of Korra, and the one with in front of Asami.
“You are dismissed for the night,” Asami ordered the attendant. “Leave us.”
The attendant bowed one last time, and left the room. He had not acknowledged Korra even once in the time they had been there, she realized. She wasn’t even sure the attendant had noticed her existence.
“You never offered me alcohol,” Korra said. Not that she would have taken it, but still.
Once more, Asami smiled.
Once more, that smile actually seemed genuine.
“Alcohol is harmful to humans,” she said. “To offer it to you would go against my oath.”
It was then that Korra did something she would never have dreamed she would do in front of a vampire.
She laughed.
It stopped quickly, but the fact that laughter existed in the first place shocked Korra to silence. She wondered if it shocked the vampire, too.
Korra looked at the hot beverage set on the table in front of her. It smelled good.
Delicious, even, in a way that she had been unaware even existed anymore.
“It is perfectly safe,” Asami said. “My oath demands it be.”
It wasn’t that, Korra knew. At this particular point of time, she was probably the safest she had ever been in Republic City.
“You said you needed my help,” she finally said as she continued to look at the hot beverage in front of her.
Asami took small sips of her drink, but said nothing else about Korra’s refusal to drink.
“There is no debt here,” the vampire finally said. “If anything, should you help me, it is I who will be indebted to you.”
“Help you with what?” Korra asked.
“My family is being targeted,” Asami responded. “By who or what we do not know.”
Now Korra took the mug into her hands. She leaned back against the cushions and took a sip.
Then another.
It tasted as delicious as it smelled.
Asami watched her drink intently.
“And?”
How is that my problem? Korra didn’t say it, but she suspected that the vampire heard it just the same.
“I do not expect you to care,” Asami said.
Oh, she heard it, alright.
“And if it stops with my family, or my kind, well, I would expect you would cheer the perpetrators on.”
“You’re fucking right about that,” Korra responded without thinking. She grimaced. That was pushing it, she knew.
“Rude,” Asami said, “but not unexpected.”
Korra shrugged. It was as close to an apology as she was willing to give.
“As I said,” Asami continued, “I do not expect you to care about the well-being of my family. I do, however, expect you to care about the well-being of this city, and its inhabitants.”
Korra sighed. “Stop me if you have heard this one before. Whatever group or faction that is going after you will cause a power imbalance among the vampire families, potentially leading to a war that will devastate Republic City.”
Asami tilted her head slightly. “Yes,” she finally stated. “That is succinct, and correct. You... do not care?”
Korra took another sip of the liquid heaven she held in her hands. To think that such a thing used to be commonplace.
“You’re young,” she began.
Asami raised an eyebrow.
“As vampires go,” she conceded.
“Which makes me far older than you.”
“Yes. But still young.” Korra took one hand off the mug and gestured around the room they were sitting in. “This place? A memorial for a time that is long gone. A requiem for a humanity that was taken from you decades ago.”
Korra leaned back and sipped the drink, and watched Asami watch her do so.
“You have barely taken sips of your drink,” Korra said, “and you have paid far more attention to my reaction than you have to your own. What does yours taste like to you? What feeling does it give you?”
Asami looked down at her beverage, and gave the briefest, almost smile. “Nothing,” she answered as she nodded, acknowledging the accuracy of Korra’s assessment.
“Young enough to wish that you could still enjoy some of the pleasures of your humanity, but old enough so that you cannot, not any more. Do you think you can go back?” Korra asked.
“Of course not,” Asami scoffed.
“Yet here we are. Sitting in a useless relic.” Korra paused for a moment. “You said before that you wanted to enjoy these things while you still could.”
“It was... recent,” Asami said. “That the changes happened. Sometimes I forget.”
“A candid admission.”
“Yes,” the vampire agreed. “I find myself speaking... easily with you. More so than I expected.”
“It’s my Water Tribe charm and stunning good looks,” Korra bragged with a smirk and a roll of her eyes.
“Of course,” Asami agreed, not even acknowledging Korra's poor attempt at humour. “But you never answered my question.”
“I didn’t, did I?” Korra answered. “Well, it’s simple. You see, your kind, vampires, vamps, blood-suckers, night children, night stalkers, whatever you want to be called... you won.”
Asami frowned but said nothing.
“You won the war,” Korra continued. “And now humanity is just penned cattle, waiting for the slaughter. So why should I care if your kind cause a war? If cattle is slaughtered more quickly. It’s the fate for all of us, anyway. Sooner or later.”
“Why not sooner, if it means we take a few of you with us?”