I'm not sure how long I paced outside the Petrelli Mansion before I slipped inside, sneaking around to find an empty room to rest in. I didn't want to go back to the hotel with Damon, not with my thoughts so tentative. I had to make my choices without any outside influence or assistance. After half a day pacing and hogging the computer in the mansion's library I hatched out a tentative plan. I needed money, a couple cellphones, a place to live besides that horrid hotel and a job to keep me from going stir crazy. Not necessarily in that order.
The phones were the easiest, prepaid types snagged off a shelf and about thirty of those card refill things. The next was the money and that was shockingly easy, too. A grand from one hundred different places was barely noticed where as one hundred grand from a single place was front page news. For once I actually appreciated the millions of people spread in every nook and cranny.
I didn't lie when I told Sylar I wasn't completely useless. Sometimes I was trusted to deliver things for my family members, things that needed to get some where in a hurry or had to be procured in a not so legal manner. I knew people, some not so nice people and if they lived a life here the same as they did at home I knew they would appreciate having someone like me around. Luckily the same bar they met in existed in this world. Ten thousand was a good head start in the trust department and an easy loss after my many small bank heists across the country. I was now gainfully employed, if not legally.
The place to live was the hardest and took me the longest. So few landlords were willing to take cash in this world, especially without any form of identification. I found one though, a strange little man who stared at my breasts and panted at the sight of my fangs. We came to an agreement fairly quickly. Once a month he'd get a thousand dollars and I would feed from him in exchange for living in his lovely basement apartment with no contract and absolutely no interference in my activities. After he got his first sample of my bite and my generous 'security deposit' he threw in the window tinting at no extra charge to me. Mortal men could be so easily influenced.
With all of my goals achieved and my new apartment furnished, if not 'decorated', it was time to get back in touch with the men in my life. Who the hell should I call first, Damon or Peter? Fuck, why was that decision still so hard? I guess the battle of my instincts versus my common sense hasn't been won yet. Damn it. And why the hell isn't Sylar answering his phone?
(back to vortex)
- Miss Independent