With Shards of Broken Glass
Sep. 16th, 2019 02:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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marysuevirusTitle: With Shards of Broken Glass
Chapter One: Stained
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: mature. this one is set in the darkness that is the Beyond Death universe. language, murder, gore, non-con, violence and sex apply as warnings. possibly others. we'll see when we get there
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of LKH. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar. though i do not view this as an actual MSV story, the original characters established in Beyond Death still belong to their creators and i am merely borrowing them for the purpose of this fic
Author's Notes: so... hey. here's a fic that i probably should have just let go. but a dive down the Wikipedia hole a couple months back brought this to life. this fic starts roughly two to three months after the ending of Beyond Death
With Shards of Broken Glass - The Index
~*~
"Thanks for coming, Kinkade," Dolph said, voice low and neutral. She glanced at him and saw that he looked uncertain. "I wasn't sure you would."
Aedan lifted a hand and waved it at him. "Don't worry about it. Show me the victim." If he felt she was short with him, he said nothing about it. Instead, he nodded his head and motioned toward the trees behind him. Aedan started forward, following the faint scent of blood that drifted on the cold breeze. She wondered what kind of scene she'd be faced with if she could smell the blood from a distance in the dead of winter. Not a good one, that was for sure.
She felt Zerbrowski fall into step behind her, absently considering that he was almost silent in his steps. She should have wondered at it, but she let it go. He'd been a cop a lot of years. No doubt he'd learned to tread softly when the need arose. Several heads came up as she followed Dolph toward a small gap in the trees and she could see out of the corner of her eyes that most of them belonged to uniformed officers. And they were all white faced. Either there were a bunch of rookies there, or the crime scene was really bad.
The crunching of snow and ice underfoot marked their progression into the copse of trees, despite the fact that they were following an already compacted trail made by many feet. Winter was in full swing, the air cold and brittle and biting as it blew against her cheeks. The trees around them were bare, skeletal branches reaching toward the sky as if in supplication of some ancient god. The ground was thick with snow, her feet pressing it flatter with every step. Aedan huddled into her coat as she did her best to stifle the yawn that wanted to come, and she wished she'd brought a Coke with to have after she was done at the scene. It was just barely ten in the morning and she'd only had a few hours of sleep. Which said volumes about what Dolph had been confronted with when he'd arrived at the scene.
The soft murmur of voices from up ahead rode over the sound of their feet on the ground. Aedan had always wondered why the police whispered at crime scenes the way they did. Their speaking aloud wasn't going to disturb the dead. Most of the dead didn't care about the living. But it was like that at every scene she'd visited and the only thing she could think of was that it was a sign of respect.
The little group broke through the trees into a small, oddly shaped clearing that was filled with unpleasant smells and soft sounds and the skin-prickling feel of spent magic. Several people were crouching at the center of the clearing, some in the cheap suits that detectives wore and some in the white one piece things that marked them as crime scene personnel. Aedan took a moment to get a feel for their location, stretching out all her senses to see if she could find anything important lingering in the air that the mundanes wouldn't be able to see or hear or feel.
Beyond the scent of death and blood and the weakening magic, there was precious little. Dolph cleared his voice, bringing every eye his way. His head bobbed in the direction of the crouching group. "Clear a space. Let Kinkade work," he instructed.
Aedan watched as detectives and crime scene techs rose to their feet and stepped back, allowing her to get her first look at their victim. The woman was sprawled on her back in the snow, arms flung wide and legs slightly parted. The victim's head was turned, giving Aedan a brief view of one cheek and little else. But that wasn't the important part at the moment. The important bit was all of the blood had pooled on the snow between the woman's legs, turning it an obscene crimson. Some of the blood had dried a rusty brown on her skin and in her pubic hair. But there was something else...
Aedan inched closer, eyes trying to read the message left behind in the woman's body by the her killer. Thus far, her brain hadn't made sense of what she saw, but she was certain that wouldn't last very long. Because she was certain what she was seeing was going to become understandable in short order. Her gaze skipped from the woman's thighs to her torso, taking note of a few bruises on her flesh. Taking note of bite marks centered around the woman's nipples. Blood had dried on her breasts, a rusty stain to mark the obvious abuse she'd suffered. Aedan skirted her legs and moved up to study the woman's face.
Her eyes, once what Aedan suspected had been a vivid green, were filmed over. They were opened wide, staring sightlessly off into the distance. Fear had twisted the woman's lips into a scream. Said lips were already blue, and Aedan couldn't be sure if it was because of the cold or because of death. Auburn hair, tinted with hints of deeper red and honey gold, was spilled across the surface of the snow, frozen into clumps in some areas. Crystals of ice clung to her eyebrows and lashes. "When did it last snow?" she asked absently.
"Three nights ago," Zerbrowski answered. Aedan nodded at that.
"She was on her face at one point," she told them, though she was sure they'd already seen it. After a sound that she took to be an acknowledgement of her statement, Aedan returned her attention to the body.
The woman's fingertips had gone blue. Which contrasted with the signs of what might mean the victim fought back. She saw broken and cracked nails that were rusty with blood. But the M.E. would have to determine whether or not the blood was hers or her attacker's. There were scratches on the woman's arms and shoulders, as if something with claws or long nails had grabbed at her repeatedly. There were no bite marks that Aedan could see on the victim's throat. But that didn't mean anything yet. A pile of cloth a few feet from the woman's body proved upon a closer look to be a messy nest shredded clothing.
With her inspection of the woman's arms and torso completed, Aedan had no choice but to shift her focus to the woman's lower body and the spill of blood there. She moved down to stand by one of the vic's thighs before crouching down so that she could get a better view. Not that she wanted to. She hated crime scenes like this. Give her a shooting death. Or a knife wound. Give her an evisceration. Those were easy. This was not. This was...
A horror.
The woman had obviously been raped. It explained the lack of clothes. The way she was laid out on the ground. The trauma done to her genitals. But it didn't explain the high level of blood loss the woman had experienced.
And then Aedan caught sight of something in all that crimson and the blood loss made perfect sense. She reached out with one hand to retrieve what she'd seen, hand hovering in the air just above the woman's spilled blood. "May I?" she asked quietly.
"Go ahead," Dolph allowed.
Aedan nodded and finished reaching out. The fingers of her glove, snapped on absently upon arrival, came away with frozen blood clinging to them. But she didn't pay that any mind, instead focusing her attention on the item caught between her fingers. She scrutinized it for a moment before letting her frown come. "Its glass. Curved. Not very thick, but not very thin, either." She let the piece drop into the palm of her hand and held it up for Dolph to see. He had to step closer to do so, the piece barely longer than her nail.
"Why is there a piece of glass in the blood?" someone asked. The voice wasn't one she recognized, letting her know that it was someone new to this kind of crime scene. Aedan shot a look up to Dolph's face. Whatever he thought and felt was locked away behind his cop mask. He was going to let her go and then tell her whether she was right or wrong. Fucking peachy.
"I need a flashlight and tweezers," Aedan said by way of reply. After a moment or two of silence, there was the soft crunch of footsteps as someone approached. The requested items were set into her upturned hand without comment. She had a very bad feeling that she was the only one not in uniform who was about to confirm something she didn't want to know. She wanted to give Dolph a piece of her mind, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. So she put his presence aside and focused on the victim.
The flashlight was thin enough that she could put it between her teeth in order to leave both hands free for what she was about to do. Not that she wanted to do it. But Dolph wasn't going to give her a goddamn thing. She offered up a prayer to whatever deity might be listening, hoping the victim would understand and forgive her. She took a moment to position the flashlight so that the bright beam was shining exactly where she needed it to be. Then she reached forward.
From a distance, it had been hard to see just what had been done to the dead woman's body. This close, however, Aedan was able to see the way the flesh of her labia had been nearly shredded. Rigor mortis had yet to set in and the cold hadn't frozen the body solid, so that much abused flesh parted easily with her manipulation. When she had the victim's labia parted, she shifted the flashlight once again and slid the tweezers into the woman's body. She felt it when the tip of the tweezers hit against something solid. Careful to not do anymore damage than had already been done, Aedan took hold of the solid bit with the tweezers and slowly extracted it from the woman's body. She held it up where everyone could see it.
Even with all the blood on it, there was no denying it was a curved piece of glass. It was much larger than the piece she'd found in the snow.
"I suspect the M.E. is going to be fishing a lot of pieces of glass out of this woman's body," she said softly. There was a moment of silence, then the unmistakable sound of someone trying very hard not to hurl. Zerbrowski produced a plastic evidence bag, into which Aedan dumped her find. He sealed it, absently handing it off to one of the crime scene techs, and offered her his hand. For once, Aedan didn't think about how letting someone help her would make her look. She put her hand in his and allowed Zerbrowski to pull her to her feet. Aedan turned a look to Dolph. "How many?"
She waited for his answer, hoping against hope that he would tell her this was the first. But she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wouldn't. And she was already swearing up a storm when he finally answered. "Three."
"Three. You've had three victims like this. And this is the first time you've called me about it?" she asked softly. It didn't keep him from hearing the anger that boiled under the surface.
"In case you've forgotten, Marshal Kinkade," Dolph began, making a point of stressing her title. Aedan glared at him, letting him know that she wasn't going to be intimidated by him. "You more or less told me to lose your number unless it constituted an emergency." One hand was flung outward toward the victim's body. "Well?"
"You're telling me one woman's body turning up dead with glass embedded within her vagina doesn't constitute an emergency? How many women have to be raped before its an emergency? How many women have to die before its an emergency?" she snarled at him.
"It takes two deaths or more in the same manner to create a pattern, Kinkade," he reminded her. "And the first one was picked up by homicide. Not RPIT. I can't call you in when I'm not in charge of the case. Can I?"
"So the first time a woman shows up with broken glass inside her body, its a mundane with a very kinky side? The second body indicates a pattern? And the third? Is that when it goes to the freak squad?"
Dolph gave her a dark look, then shifted his gaze to Zerbrowski. There was a moment of silent communication, then Zerbrowski was reaching under his coat. Aedan watched as he pulled a file folder from an interior pocket. It had been folded in half and she could see the edges of glossy photos peeking out of the file. Zerbrowski offered the file to her wordlessly.
Aedan didn't want to take it. She did not want to see what someone's idea of a good time was. But she didn't have a choice. If she was going to figure out who was doing this, and why, she needed to look at the pictures. She made sure that both Dolph and Zerbrowski saw the anger in her eyes, then she flipped the file open and fell head first into blood and gore.
The file contained nothing but pictures and every last one of them was from a crime scene. The first image she was confronted with showed a woman who was almost completely naked, save a pair of shredded tights that had been ripped open at the crotch. She was stained with her own blood and Aedan didn't have to look closely to know that the flesh of her labia was shredded.
"The first victim. Candace Baker," Zerbrowski told her softly. "Twenty five. Aspiring artist who made ends meet by dancing in a strip club. Her fellow dancers all claim that everyone loved her and they can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her. She lived alone in a single bedroom apartment with a pair of goldfish. Her purse was found ditched two miles from the club where she worked. She was last seen leaving said club after her shift a week ago. Her body was found four nights ago."
Candace Baker was in much the same shape as their present victim. The photos under the first one proved it. Crime scene people had made sure to capture every scratch and bite mark in vivid detail. There were tinges of blue at her lips, in her fingers and toes. Her eyes, deep brown, were wide and sightless. Her mouth gaped slightly, suggesting she'd possibly died screaming. A head of rich red hair was fanned out around her head like the halo of a fallen angel. Her skin was bruised and scratched and bitten. And her flesh had been shredded by curved glass.
Aedan flipped to the next set of photos. Another redhead, this time with blue eyes. Her skin was darker than Candace's, even after the onset of death. Again, there was that tinge of blue at lips and toes and fingers. Scratches. Bruises. Bite marks. Shredded, bloodied labia. This one's skirt was twisted around her waist. "The perp has a type. They're all three redheads," she commented softly.
"Janice Waterston. Just turned thirty last week. She was a bartender. Worked night. Slept days. Lived alone. Not even a goldfish. Friends reported her missing six days ago. She was found two days ago."
"Was there any sodomy?"
"No. All penetration was vaginal," Dolph told her.
Aedan nodded, her attention caught by the photos. She turned over a close up of Janice's genitals to find that the photo behind it was not a crime scene photo. It was a computer model of what looked like a phallus. There appeared to be ridges that mimicked the veins in a real penis, along with the wider ridges of the flared head. But it was utterly see through. Aedan stared at it a moment, then lifted wide eyes to Dolph and Zerbrowski. "Are you telling me these women were raped by a glass dildo?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"The M.E. seems to think so. He retrieved enough broken shards to reconstruct the implement. This is a computer rendered model of what he feels it looks like." Dolph fell silent a moment or two, as if considering. "It was hollow, Kinkade. And the pattern of breakage suggests it was broken from the inside out."
"The perp broke it while..." she began, only to fall silent as the implications hit her fully. Her face felt hot and her throat tight, the way it felt before she had to throw up. Before she could even say a word, Zerbrowski had a hand on her arm and he was gently leading her away from the corpse. Away from the horror of her death. Away from memories she thought she'd put to rest months ago.
Zerbrowski didn't stop until they reached her car.
"Aedan, are you okay?"
"No," she said, swallowing hard. She wanted to shake her head, but felt like doing so would see her losing what little control she had over the urge to vomit.
She bent at the waist, put her hands on her thighs, and tried to slow her breathing. Zerbrowski stood silently while she recovered, a comforting and solid presence in the cold, oppressive silence. It took a lot longer than she liked to bring herself back under control. She didn't like losing control. It made her feel as if she was spinning in circles with no clear direction on which way to go. It made her angry.
Zerbrowski was watching her, eyes filled with concern, when she finally lifted her head to look at him. The anger must have showed in her eyes because she saw the concern shift and become something else entirely. If she didn't know better, she'd say it was fear. "Aedan..." he began, only to trail off when her look darkened.
"Do we know for certain if the perpetrator is someone from the preternatural community?" she asked, effectively cutting him off before he could voice his concerns.
For a moment, it looked like Zerbrowski wanted to ignore her question and focus on the rage that he obviously knew was building inside. But he was smart enough to know going down that road would only lead to trouble. So he shook his head at her. "So far, no. We haven't had any indications that this is a vampire or a shifter's doing."
"It probably isn't. There was magic on the air back there. Faint, but I felt it. That means our perpetrator is more than likely a human who practices magic. But that doesn't rule out anyone from the community."
"You felt magic?" he asked.
"Yes. Not much, mind you. But it was there," she confirmed. "Did you not find it at the other scenes?"
Zerbrowski shook his head. "It was four days before we found Janice Waterston. And regular detectives were in charge of Candace's crime scene. If there was any magic at those scenes, it was lost before we got there. I'm sorry, Aedan. I just don't know."
Aedan bit back the curse that sprang to her lips. It wasn't Zerbrowski's fault that they had no clue if magic had been involved in the first two crimes. She felt it was likely, but she couldn't say for certain. And she wasn't sure if she could prove one way or the other that there was magic involved with Candace and Janice's deaths. She'd have to consult with people more in the know to see if such a thing was possible. For now...
"I'm out of here. I need sleep. I'll look into the magic aspect a little more and give you guys something more definitive when I find anything out. For now, I'm going to say that this isn't the doing of any vampire, because there's too much blood left behind. And it isn't a lycanthrope, either. They'd probably eat the body. I can't give you anything beyond that until I've done some research and have more to go on."
"You okay to get home, Aedan?" Zerbrowski asked softly.
She considered responding with a smart ass comment, but she was still working on rebuilding her relationship with Zerbrowski and felt that doing so would put a serious dent in the progress they'd made. It had been hard putting aside the feelings of betrayal after the reveal of the video one of Solomon's hellspawn had made, but she'd been chipping away at it steadily. And, for his part, Zerbrowski seemed to be trying terribly hard to make that evening up to her. So she put the smart ass aside and gave him a faint smile. She couldn't quite keep the tired from it. "I'll have to be. Won't I?" she asked him.
"I can take you if you want. I'm sure Dolph will--" he began, but she waved a hand at him and brought his words to a halt.
"We both know that Dolph doesn't give a shit if I fall asleep behind the wheel and crash the car, so long as I don't kill anyone while doing so. And we both know he won't let you go before he's done here. I'll be fine, Zerbrowski. Thanks, but I can manage."
His frown told her he didn't believe her. "You look like you've been burning the candle at both ends again. You should let me take you home. Or have someone take you home."
"I've been working with Tina. She's strong and capable, but she resists my efforts at teaching her control. I can't say that I blame her. Solomon tried to use her to his own ends. She probably thinks that I'll do the same thing. Even if it is only on a subconscious level. Her resistance makes it harder than it should be." Aedan had tried to tell the girl that she couldn't just not use her powers because they didn't work that way. But Tina hadn't wanted to listen to her. Yet. Even so, she was going to find out. Angel was doing her best to help, but she didn't get it anymore than Tina did. That made Aedan's job so much harder. "I'll be fine, Zerbrowski. I can call someone to come get me if I feel like I won't be able to make it home. There's always someone waiting for just such a call."
Thus far, Aedan hadn't needed to make it. But she knew a time would come when she'd have to. And she was pretty sure it would never be a crime scene related reason. If she needed help, it would be because someone had damn near killed her.
It had been quiet on that front since she'd destroyed Vittorio. If the vampire council knew he was really dead and they missed him, they'd yet to announce it to the world. In fact, the council had been terribly quiet. Almost too quiet. Which meant Aedan was living on borrowed time. They were probably planning something, waiting for the perfect opportunity to put it into play. But for the time being, there was no one chasing after her. No one who wanted her dead. No one to make her life hell. "Go get some sleep, Kinkade. You look like shit," Zerbrowski said, killing the softness of their personal moment.
"You would know," she shot back, then climbed into her car.
~*~*~*~*~
"You look like shit," Minette said as soon as Aedan got the car door open. She frowned at her friend, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "What are you doing running around? You should be sleeping. I know you had a late night and you've been expending far more of your energy than you should be. What was so important that you needed to go out after only a few hours of sleep?"
"And a good morning to you, too, Minette," Aedan replied, climbing from the car with uncharacteristic slowness. Minette opened her mouth to tear into the woman but stopped when she caught the faint whiff of blood coming off Aedan's clothes. Of course she'd been worried when she'd found out Aedan had left the Circus only a few short hours after returning to it. Minette knew that Aedan was juggling far too many things at the moment. Her job with Animators, Inc. demanded so much of her attention. And the woman had been invited to speak at a conference for law enforcement officials in New Orleans, which she'd only gotten back from a few days prior. Add to that the fact that she'd been trying to mentor her half-sister and it was amazing that Aedan ever actually slept.
"Oh, no. A crime scene?" she asked softly.
"I am a Federal Marshal and the local preternatural expert," Aedan told her. There should have been snark in the sentence. There wasn't. There was, however, a lot of exhaustion. Minette slid an arm around her friend, using her free hand to shut the door. Then she silently urged Aedan toward the door that would let them into the Circus. It was a testament to just how tired Aedan was that she didn't bother to fight.
Minette frowned. "How bad?"
"Bad enough," Aedan replied. She didn't offer any details and Minette didn't ask. She'd learned a long time ago that she didn't want to see what kinds of horrors filled her friend's head.
"As bad as Paul and Grace?"
"Not that bad," Aedan admitted. The door opened for them, the daytime bodyguard waiting for them to step inside before pulling it closed. Minette flashed the rat a smile of thanks as she steered Aedan toward the steps. The door closed almost silently behind them, but the locks engaging were loud in the virtual silence.
Daytime hours meant that the Circus, for the most part, was silent and empty. The acts and the staff had gone home and gone to bed hours ago. If anyone was still inside, it was the cleaning crew. Anyone who worked at or lived under the Circus tended to keep odd hours. Minette likely would have been still sleeping, except she'd been woken by Aedan's anger and shock. Of course she'd checked the woman's rooms and had been unhappy when she'd found her gone. While it had been a few months since her encounter with the demon and Vittorio, Minette found she couldn't quite keep the worry and fear at bay if Aedan disappeared on her. Memories of Aedan dying lingered at the edges of her brain, just waiting for an opportune moment to remind her of the things she'd best like to forget. So naturally she kept close tabs on her friend.
"I suppose that's a small favor and we should be thankful for it. But the tone of your voice suggests its bad enough to induce nightmares," Minette told her.
"Its a crime scene, Minette. They all induce nightmares." Aedan's statement came with a healthy dose of cynicism. It also came with a yawn that stretched her mouth wide. It stopped the woman in her tracks while she tried to recover her equilibrium.
"You're going to bed. I'll drop you there to get ready to sleep. Then I'll go make you a snack. And I'm going to send someone to share the bed with you. You're low on energy. You need to feed," Minette told her sternly.
"What about my homework, mom?" Aedan asked. It only sounded like she was half-joking.
"Homework has to wait until after sleep."
"I'll be sure to tell Dolph and Zerbrowski that you said so," Aedan returned, pulling away so that she could start down the steps on her own. Minette frowned after the woman a moment before forcing herself to follow after.
"What possible homework could you have that can't wait until you get some goddamn sleep? Don't those two know what will happen if you don't rest?" she snapped, suddenly irrationally angry at the police for calling Aedan. "I swear to the heavens that they want to kill you with their incompetence."
"They don't know the preternatural world the way you and I do," Aedan said softly. Minette was surprised by the lack of fight in the woman's voice.
"With all the years they've been investigating it? They should!"
"I need to find out if there's a way to detect spent magic at a crime scene, Minette. They can't do that. They likely don't know the first place to start. I have Rhia and Janika to ask. And if they don't know, I can probably find someone else who does."
Minette took hold of her arm and brought her to a halt. "You would ask Rhia about a crime scene? Now?" She shot her friend a heavy glare that told her what she thought of the idea.
"I would if I didn't have any other options," Aedan replied, glaring right back. "I don't have to give Rhia specifics. I just need to know the how. I can actually perform the spell if I have to. Giving Rhia nightmare fuel is not high on my priority list right now, trust me. I'm the only one here who should have to live with the nightmares."
There was a touch of anger in her words with her last statement. Minette knew that it was a dig at her lack of interest in Aedan's work. Before Minette could comment on it and defend herself, the other woman pushed on as if she didn't know Minette wanted to say anything. "But if I can't find a way to stop any more murders on my own, I will use what resources I have. Even Rhia."
Aedan tugged her arm free of Minette's hold and shot her a cool look that said with great effectiveness that their discussion was over. "Don't bother with the snacks. I'll get them myself. Good night." Aedan's words were sharp and barbed. She turned without waiting for a reply and continued down the stairs on her own. A second later, Minette felt the walls slam into place that effectively cut her off from the constant, pleasant presence of the other woman's mind against her own.
"Shit," Minette snarled to herself, then hurried to catch up.
~*~
"You look like someone rocked on your tail," Jason said by way of greeting when Minette stepped into the room she shared with both him and Micah. A glance told her Micah wasn't in bed, nor was he in the bathroom. Something must have come up and Minette wondered at it briefly before Jason's words clicked in her brain.
"Do I look that ruffled?" she asked with a frown.
"If you were wearing fur, it would be standing up on end all over the place," he confirmed. Minette sighed. She hadn't wanted to bring her problems to bed with her. She certainly hadn't wanted any of her lovers to have to deal with them.
"I'm sorry. I tried to settle down but--"
"What did Aedan do now?" he asked, cutting her off before she could finish. Minette turned a wide eyed stare his way. It prompted a faint smile from Jason. He crossed the room to where she stood and tugged her into his embrace. The warmth of his hold eased some of the tension from her. "Honey, I know of only one person on the face of this planet that can get you this worked up so easily. So tell me what she did. I'll do what I can to help calm you down."
"Dolph called her," Minette told him. The laughter went out of Jason's eyes in a second.
"How bad was it?"
"She didn't really say. She insists it isn't as bad as Paul and Grace. But that doesn't really mean anything. Look at what they did," she said, then promptly shuddered. Minette pushed that unpleasant thought aside and returned to the topic at hand. "It wouldn't be an issue, but she's been running constantly for a while now. She's going to crash and burn. In a bad way. I don't understand why she does this. She's got friends to lean on. Why doesn't she do so?"
"Because she's trying to spare you the gory details," he told her. His tone plainly stated she should already know that. Minette tensed in preparation of a verbal attack, but Jason led her toward the sofa and settled her down on the cushions before joining her. "You don't want anything to do with her job, Minette. You've made it clear to her. Time and again." His voice was not unkind, despite the faint touch of accusation in it. Minette immediately bristled.
"I've never said anything about--"
"You didn't have to," Jason cut her off, a finger laid against her lips to silence her. "You made it abundantly clear. So she's keeping it from you. To save you the horror. You don't have a right to get angry when she does that because its what you want."
"But the things she sees are so horrible. How can she think I want to live with them in my head?" Minette asked him, tone defensive and maybe a little sharper than she'd intended.
"What makes you think she wants to? Or that she's even equipped to do so?" Jason paused and drew a breath, his face absolutely serious. It was not a look she saw him wear often and she wasn't sure she liked it on him. "She does it because she has to. Because she's the preternatural expert and the police go to her when they've got a crime they don't understand. Its her job. And maybe you don't see the toll having those things in her head does to her, but its there. Trust me. She's just too adept at hiding it from all of us."
Minette frowned at him. It sounded an awful lot to her like he was chastising her for wanting to keep the nightmares away. And she wanted to be mad at him for it. The problem was, she couldn't. He had a point. She'd tried to help Aedan back in the beginning. It hadn't lasted very long. Because the things the woman saw... Even thinking of it made Minette shudder.
Jason's look softened and he reached out to cup her cheek with one hand. "I understand that you want to help. I also understand that its nightmare fuel. It was for Anita. I'm sure it is for just about anyone who goes to a scene like that. But you don't have the right to get mad at her for keeping secrets when its exactly what you want."
He was right. She knew he was right. That didn't make her feel any better. "I know, Jason. I just hate seeing her so shaken and everything but ... She does and says stupid shit that makes me so angry and I forget everything."
"Surprise, surprise," he said with a half-grin. "She said something that made you angry."
Minette took offense at his obvious enjoyment of her, she thought, well deserved anger. "It never used to be like this, Jason. She used to share with me."
He sighed and shook his head at her. "She never used to be a federal marshall. She never used to consult with local law enforcement. She never used to see things that haunt sane, rational people for the rest of their lives. Things changed when you came here, Minette. Aedan adapted to suit." There was maybe just a little bit of accusation there, as if he was saying Aedan had changed and she hadn't.
Minette shot him a frown and stepped away from him. It wasn't right that he kept making excuses for Aedan's behavior. "She's talking about putting Rhia at risk." The words were practically snarled at him. Jason frowned, his expression brought on by both her words and the way she spoke them. But he didn't follow after her and try to offer comfort. It was likely he could tell she'd shrug it off if he did so.
"How?"
"She's talking about asking her for help," Minette said. As if that was enough to explain everything.
"Help," Jason repeated. His tone clearly told her he didn't understand what she was so worked up about. It also invited her to explain so that he did understand.
"She said there was faint magic used at whatever crime scene she went to tonight. She said she needed to find out if there's a way to find out if it was used at older scenes. And she said she'd ask Rhia, if she had to."
Jason stared at her, obviously expecting her to continue.
Minette sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and anger. "She's pregnant, Jason! And Aedan wants to ask her about a crime scene? What do you think will happen?"
"I think Rhia will help in whatever way she can," Jason replied. Minette shot a glare at him.
"Sure. Rhia will help in whatever way she can. And it will induce a vision. And she'll See the shit Aedan was looking at," Minette hissed. When Jason continued to stare at her like he didn't understand her anger, she growled and shook her head. "She's pregnant, Jason! What will the crime scene that Aedan doesn't want to share with me do to Rhia?"
Jason stared at her a moment, then sighed. "Rhia is an adult. If she wants to help Aedan, that's her business. She isn't a child who can't handle seeing a crime scene. And it isn't right that you want to treat her like that. Rhia may not be a lycanthrope and she may not be a necromancer, but she has power and she isn't weak. She's strong. You're doing her a disservice to treat her like she can't take care of herself."
Minette opened her mouth, ready to rip him a new one. But Jason shook his head and headed for the door. "I have to go. I have a thing. I'll see you later, Minette." He was out the door before she could do anything more than stare at him.
She stared at the door, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth down. She was pretty sure she'd just gotten the brush off. From Jason. She'd made him mad and he'd given her the brush off. She didn't like the way it felt. Not at all.
~*~*~*~*~
"Where did you go, ma mie?" Jean-Claude asked before she'd even stepped into her room. She held on to her sigh. Why did it figure that he'd be awake and waiting for her? Last she knew, he'd been on his way to bed for the day. She pushed the door to her room closed and waited for the lamp near the bed to come on. There was a click and soft light filled a small portion of the chamber. Jean-Claude stood beside her bed, watching her expectantly.
"Dolph called," she told him, not bothering to hide the weariness she felt. Not bothering to hide anything. He crossed the floor toward her, the silk of his sleep pants making soft shushing sounds as he walked. She found herself staring at him as he moved, found herself entranced by the grace in his stride and the way he held himself. Then he was pulling her into his arms to hug her close and she lost herself in the mingled scents of blood and death and that one that was uniquely him.
"How bad was it?" His voice was as gentle as his lips when they pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"It was a horror show," she whispered. Now that she was home, now that she was away from ruby colored snow and glittering pieces of glass and the condemnation hot in Dolph's eyes, she let herself unravel. Jean-Claude held her, let her lose herself in the strength of his embrace. He said nothing when the tears came, rolling silently down her cheeks. He merely kept his arms around her and held her close.
She hated that she was crying over a crime scene. But she was so tired of them. There had been far too many of them her first few months in St. Louis. She'd hoped for a reprieve, for a breather, so that she could purge the atrocities she'd been witness to from her mind. She wasn't as strong as people thought she was. But the Fates, it seemed, had more in store for her and they were going to hit her with both barrels before she had a chance to regroup. She didn't know if Jean-Claude was aware of her thoughts. If he was, he kept it to himself. He just held her and let her deal with it all in her own way.
They stood like that for several minutes. Through it all, he remained silent. Simply offered her his strength. And when the tears had dried away to nothing, when she'd put herself back together as best she could, he turned and urged her across the room toward the bathroom. She didn't protest, let him nudge her along and then settle her on the lid of the toilet while he focused on turning knobs so that water poured into the tub. She watched as he moved toward a shelf on the back wall, lifted a bottle to study it, put it back down, then picked up another one. He carried that second one with him to the tub, one hand unscrewing the cap as he went so that he could pour a good measure of the pearlescent liquid it contained into the tub. In only moments, the soft, floral scent of lavender filled the room. Aedan could see bubbles forming on the surface of the water.
Jean-Claude returned the bottle to the shelf, then slid out of his sleep pants. It was a sad testament to the state of her mind that she couldn't find it in her to admire the view.
He came to her and took her hands, easily tugging her to her feet. He said nothing as he slowly, carefully eased her out of her clothes. Her suit coat went first. It was left laying on the edge of the sink. Her holster followed, keeping the black coat in place with its weight. Deft fingers slid one button after another from the holes they'd been slipped through. The silk blouse was tugged free of her jeans and left to flutter to the floor. Her bra was next. He knelt before her, worked her boots from her feet. Each sock was removed and left to lay where it landed. He didn't stand to help her from her jeans, simply reached up and undid the fly, then eased them down over her hips. Aedan stepped out of them without being prodded. They were left on the floor in a denim pile. Her panties came last, the scrap of lace tossed aside without care.
The tub was full when he settled the two of them into the large basin, pushing her forward when he reached out to turn the tap off. Aedan sat before him, her back to his chest. His arms wound around her, serving only to hold her against him. His hands did nothing more than stroke her skin in an effort to ease the tension from her shoulders. She was bathed in his heat and the gentle press of his love for her. That went a long way toward helping her relax.
She settled deeper into the water, pressing her back more firmly into his chest. She let his hands, the combined heat of his flesh and the water, and the gentle scent of lavender coax the day's stresses from her muscles until she felt boneless. Her eyes slid shut and she let go a sigh. How did he always know just how to make things feel better?
"Tell me, ma mie," he said softly, lips brushing the tender stretch of skin just in front of her ear. It was neither request nor order. It was a curious mix of the two. She really didn't want to talk about it. But who else would understand? Who else could live with that kind of nightmare material in their head? It still hurt that Minette didn't ask her in depth questions about the crime scenes she visited. Not that Aedan didn't understand the reasons. Of course she did. But it stung, none the less. Minette had been her family far longer than Jean-Claude or anyone else.
"A woman was murdered," she whispered, trying hard to see the scene without seeing it. She felt like she was losing that battle because the bloodied snow was bright and vivid in her mind's eye.
"Which member of the preternatural community did this murder involve?" he asked. There was little in his voice to let her know what he was thinking, but she was sure he was not pleased. This was his city, after all, and he took things like murder and violence done in his community seriously.
"I'm pretty sure its a witch," she told him. A slight bit of tension slid out of him at that.
"How sure?"
"About ninety nine percent. There was a body, which kind of leaves out a lycanthrope. And there was too much blood, so that rules out the vampires," she told him. There must have been something in her voice when she hit the word 'blood' because his arms tightened their hold on her.
"How much blood, ma mie?"
"Enough that she died from exsanguination," Aedan said.
Jean-Claude fell silent for a time, occupying himself with trailing his hands across her belly and over her thighs. He let them glide up her arms and across her collar bones. He didn't try to touch her in any other way, simply stroked the tension and the fear from her muscles with the lightest of caresses. "Tell me all of it, ma mie." His words were whispered in her ear, quiet and gentle and coaxing. She didn't want to think about it anymore, wanted to put it all away and forget it ever happened. But she knew that wouldn't work. He was trying his best to help her get as much of it out as possible, so it didn't sit in a dark corner. So it didn't fester and rot and pollute her body, mind, and soul.
"The murderer raped her," she said, gaze unfocusing as she stared at the far wall. "Stripped her naked and raped her in the snow." The rest of it clogged her throat, made it difficult to go on. The same shocked horror that she'd felt earlier filled her again. He tightened his hold on her, hugging her to him to remind her that she was safe.
"How does that relate to the blood loss?" he asked gently.
Aedan swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to stem the flood of memory. It came anyway, and she found herself once more kneeling next to the corpse in the snow. This time, though, Jean-Claude was with her. He stood not far behind her, staring over her shoulder at the crime scene laid out before them. She didn't have to look to know that his attention had been snared by the crimson stain in the snow between the vic's legs. "The murderer used a glass dildo to rape her. And they shattered it while it was inside her body. Based on what little I got to see, it looks like they continued to rape her after they'd shattered the glass."
Jean-Claude said nothing for a moment, then he closed the distance between them. The crunch of his feet in the snow was loud in the still clearing. She let him pull her to her feet. Let him slide an arm around her shoulders so that he could pull her close to him. "This is not the first one. Is it?"
"No. Two more. I saw photos from the crime scenes. Just like this one," she told him, one hand motioning to the corpse laid out in the snow.
"What makes you believe that this was done by a witch? Why not a mortal?" he asked.
"There was magic on the air when I got here earlier. I don't think she'd been dead for very long," Aedan told him.
"What of the other crime scenes?"
She drew a breath and shook her head, turning away from the body in the snow. Jean-Claude's eyes were bright. Filled with warmth and compassion. With understanding. She let him pull her into his embrace and hug her to him tightly. "The first victim went to regular homicide. Dolph got the second. And the third. He said it wasn't a pattern until he had three bodies." She let the disgust she felt over that paint her words.
"Dolph is not you, Aedan. Do not make him out to be the monster in this because he did not call you sooner."
"How many women have to die before its important enough to call me in? How many crimes have you heard of where the victim was fucked with and killed by a glass dildo? How come I'm always the last option?"
"I do not know, ma mie," he said softly, hands stroking down her back lightly. "What I do know is that you will find the person doing this. And you will end their crime spree."
Just like that, they were back in her bathroom, back in that spacious tub. She was surrounded by warm, soothing water and the gentle, soothing scent of lavender and the gentle, soothing feel of his body around hers. Aedan snuggled into him and did her best to push the images of another crime scene from her mind. "I'd like to do that before someone else dies," she whispered.
"Do you have any information that can lead you toward the murderer?" One hand stroked down the length of her arm, his fingers twining in hers so that he held her hand.
"No."
"Then, sadly, I do not see that happening. What will you do next?"
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep for the day?" she asked, hoping the change of subject would help steer him away from her crime scene. There was a faint shift of his chest, his chuckle rumbling against her ear.
"I was getting ready to seek my rest when I felt your distress. I decided sleep could wait until I knew you were home and safe," he told her gently. Warmth spread through her at the thought that he'd been worried.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to disrupt your sleep."
"There is nothing to apologize for," he replied, voice low and intimate in the near silence of the bathroom. The only constant sound was the soft ripple of water lapping against their skin and the sides of the tub that accompanied each shift of his hands. Otherwise, there was little else and, for this once, the silence was as soothing as the feel of Jean-Claude wrapped around her. Aedan closed her eyes and let go a sigh. She thought she could sit like this all day, but she was exhausted and needed sleep. So did he. As far as she knew, he wasn't capable of remaining awake all day long.
"I should let you go to bed." She tried to pull from his hold, intent on drying off and climbing into bed. She went nowhere.
"I will rest after you have gone to sleep." His hold was absolute. Aedan shifted her head around so she could look up at him. It was awkward and uncomfortable.
"You don't have to do that. I plan on turning the phone off before I climb into bed and hide between the sheets for the rest of the day. I may even call work and beg off for the evening." She didn't add that she was beyond tired, that she was moving well past the realm of exhaustion. She was at her limits and she knew it, but she didn't know how to step back and rest. There was always something that seemed to need her attention. In fact, she was supposed to give Tina another lesson tonight. She wasn't sure she was mentally up to it.
"I know I do not have to do it. But I will, because you need rest. I can feel how tired you are. It resides in your very bones. You are no good to anyone if you do not regain your full energy, Aedan. Not Tina. Not Dolph. Not any of your friends. Not me."
His words came with a faint brush of anger and concern, letting her know that he was well aware of just how much she'd been pushing lately. It had been that way ever since Vittorio. There had always been something. There had been few crime scenes, but she'd been asked to speak at a conference. And there had been a few executions to handle. Hunting vampires took time and patience and energy. And there had been her half-siblings. She'd had to ensure that her half-siblings were well cared for. That meant finding homes for all of them. Homes with people who understood the specific trauma they'd gone through. Homes where they would be loved unconditionally. Homes where they would be safe.
It had been a daunting task. Most people didn't want kids who came with a crapton of baggage. No one wanted to deal with a child's trauma. So it had taken time and effort to find them all some place to go. It had taken lots of background checks, both those done by groups like family services and those done by Edward because she'd asked him to make doubly sure all of those boys and girls would be safe and loved. She couldn't give them any of that personally. She was going to be damn sure they got it from the people who took them in.
On top of all that, there was Bert and his constant desire to shove Aedan into Anita's shoes. She'd tried to talk to him about it, to convince him to stop billing her as the next Anita Blake. Of course he hadn't listened. She was nearly at the end of her rope there and she was starting to think there was no way to make the man understand that she was not Anita Blake.
Sometimes, she wished she could run away from it all. That she could dump all of her shit in someone's lap and take off for parts unknown. She couldn't, though, if for no other reason than Edward would track her ass down and drag her back. Probably beaten and bloodied.
Her friends tried. They really did. But she was well aware that none of them were emotionally equipped to deal with the shit she dealt with. Minette had tried to help her with the crime scenes, back at the beginning of it all. But she couldn't handle the things Aedan saw. Which Aedan found almost laughable, given that Minette went furry once a month and liked to hunt her meals. Janika could handle some of it. She'd seen her fair share of horrors. But Aedan had seen the looks she'd gotten from the other woman after they'd taken on Vittorio and his cronies. She knew that some part of Janika was afraid of her.
Maybe she had reason to be.
Rhia was out. Between the pregnancy and still trying to get a handle on her new powers, Aedan didn't want to bother her with the gorier things. Especially since there was no telling if Rhia would end up Seeing it or not. She didn't want to wish that on Rhia. Once had been bad enough.
"Come, ma mie," Jean-Claude said, breaking across her thoughts. He rose to his feet, taking her with him, then lifted her out of the tub and set her on the bathmat to drip. She watched absently as he pulled the stopper from the drain so that the water could run out. He joined her on the mat and took a moment to press a gentle kiss to her lips before he fetched towels with which to dry them off. She stood there and let him buff away the water that clung to her skin. With each pass of the towel, the soft scent of lavender wafted up to fill her nose. Each breath pulled relaxation into her lungs and saw some of the tension sliding out of her muscles.
By the time Jean-Claude had finished, she was yawning and almost boneless. He smiled at her and let the towels lay where he dropped them. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the other room. A tray of fruit rested on the bed, a glass of cold juice on the stand next to it. "You will eat and then you will sleep. I will hold you until you drift off."
It was on the tip of her tongue to argue about the fruit. She was so tired and she wanted to sleep. But she knew better. He wouldn't let her get away with it. Especially since she knew, if he asked, she couldn't name when she'd last eaten. It had been a very long, very trying day. So she nodded and let him carry her to the bed, let him settle her on it next to the tray. Even as he made his way around to the other side, Aedan picked up an apple slice and nibbled at it.
Jean-Claude settled on the mattress and lifted the tray with one hand. The other was used to pull her closer to him. When she was sitting at his side, he laid the tray across both their laps and selected a chunk of watermelon for her. It was crisp and sweet and juicy. A bite saw liquid dribbling down her chin. He leaned in and used his tongue to lick the droplets of moisture away. Then he drew back and allowed her to finish off the piece of melon.
Each new piece of fruit was accompanied with a tender touch of some kind. A kiss to steal the taste whatever lingered on her lips. A swipe of his tongue to clean away adventurous droplets of juice that dared run down her chin. The one time a drop made it to her breast brought forth a soft sigh and a rush of need when his lips claimed her nipple and teased it gently. It was a slow, sensual process. By the time the tray was emptied of its juicy sweet fare, fire raced under Aedan's skin.
He rid them of the tray, absently dropping it to the floor with a faint thud. Aedan turned toward him, eager to continue what they'd started. But he caught her and shifted her position so that she sat between his legs, her back turned toward him. She was about to ask him if there was a problem when his hands slid up her back to curl over her shoulders. The press of his fingers and thumbs along the muscles around her neck saw her moaning softly. He worked the tightness from her muscles with slow, steady massaging until her head dropped forward and her chin hit her chest.
His lips left a kiss against the back of her neck before blazing a trail across her shoulder. As he did so, his hands moved lower, fingers never halting their massaging motion. She found herself leaning forward to give him better access to her back. The lower he got, the closer her torso got to the mattress until she was practically laying on it.
She found herself on her back and wasn't sure how she'd gotten there, but such things became unimportant when his hands started gliding up her thighs toward her hips. All that mattered was the feather-light way his hands moved over her skin and the fire that burned under it any place he touched her.
Some part of her brain still capable of thought knew what he was doing, that he was using the simplest, sharpest tool in his arsenal to push the morning aside and leave her too exhausted for even dreams. They were both well aware that sex would put her to sleep faster than anything. But she knew that there wouldn't be full sex between them. She could beg him to fuck her and he'd deny her the pleasure. Not that he wasn't going to please her. He just wasn't going to do it the way she wanted him to. She wanted to protest, wanted to rise up and throw herself on him. Already, though, he was working magic with his hands so that she felt boneless. There was no way she could lift a finger, much less her whole body, in order to take what she wanted.
He whispered something in French, his voice low. It was a counterpoint to her sighs and moans, to the sound of her body shifting restlessly against the silk bedding beneath her. Then his lips pressed a kiss to her throat, right over the throbbing vein there. She shuddered at the feel of his fangs grating against her skin, pleasure skittering outward from that single touch in a roar of flames that prompted muscles to tighten down as a small orgasm shook her.
His hands blazed a trail across her flesh, fingers plucking and tweaking at her nipples, while is mouth followed in their wake. He pressed kisses everywhere, traced patterns against her skin with his tongue. She knew he was laying claim to her and she reveled in it. Words fell from her mouth, but none of them made sense to her. She wasn't sure if she was speaking in tongues or if the words were coming out garbled and mangled. It didn't matter, because Jean-Claude seemed to understand her perfectly. His hands shifted to her hips and stroked the swell of their curves while his tongue laved the indentation of her navel.
Each touch, each kiss, each nibble, each press of tongue and stroke of finger, built the fire higher and higher. Need trembled like a newly unfurled leaf caught in a gale deep within her belly. Aedan wanted him so badly, she ached with it. She tried to ask for more, tried to ask him to fill her up and complete her. But words didn't exist and her brain was big ball of mush incapable of forming even the most basic images. So she writhed and moaned and hoped that he understood what she needed from him.
Jean-Claude lifted his head from her belly button to look at her, eyes gone dark with his own passions. She saw raw hunger in them. And regret. "I know, ma mie. I know. But not tonight. You need rest. More than you need anything else. Much as I would love to make love to you, it requires more time than I am willing to spare. Allow me to do this. Later, I will spend an entire night making love to you."
She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to rant and rage. But she knew he was right. Hadn't she been thinking about how tired she was just a little bit ago? She watched him stare at her, gaze intent on her face. He was obviously waiting for her to say something. Aedan gave him a smile, hands reaching for him in order to pull him down to her. The kiss was long and slow, all hot and moist and full of promise. He let his tongue dip between her lips, let it glide against her own. It was a tease and a preview of things to come. When he pulled back, that same promise was in his eyes. Then he drew away from her and shifted his focus.
Aedan was not surprised when his hands slid between her and the bedding. He molded them to the curves of her ass, lifting her hips up so that they were a foot off the mattress. She watched as he hooked her knees over his shoulders, as he returned his hands to her hips and took hold of them to offer her support. His gaze met and held hers over the length of her torso. Then her eyes were fluttering shut because his mouth sealed itself over her nether lips and the entire world slipped away.
His tongue slid forward to trace the swollen flesh carefully. She let go a gasp that sounded loud in the near silence. Her hands curled themselves into the bedding and held on for dear life. Each flick of his tongue saw another bolt of need slam right into her very core. The fire raging there burned higher and higher, leaving her with the feeling that she was going to explode into thousands of pieces before he finished with her.
Slowly, so very slowly, his tongue worked its way between her lips. The tip of it grazed her clit. Sparks erupted behind her eyelids and her spine arched up, pressing her body against his mouth all the harder. He took it as an invitation and sent his tongue plunging as far inside of her as it could get. She gasped at the invasion, so close to what she wanted and yet so very far away from it. He drew the talented muscle back before plunging it forward again. In and out, Slow, then fast, then slow again. She writhed in need, whimpering for more. For something.
He lowered her down onto the mattress, his mouth never breaking contact with her flesh, so that she was on her back. Her legs were still hooked over his shoulders as he settled himself between her thighs so that he could apply himself more intently to her pleasure. His hands joined forces with his tongue and lips, fingers plunging into the depths of her body to stroke in and out so he could apply his tongue to her clit with a diligence that should have been commended.
The way his fingers delved deep, two and three at a time. The way his mouth kept a gentle pressure on her lips, swollen with need. The way his tongue laved her clit, teasing and working it into a tight nub. All of that stimulus worked to shove her over the edge. She felt as if she was free falling through space, an overload of sensation riding her as she plummeted down toward the deep pool of pleasure spreading across the surface of the world beneath her.
And then she hit. His tongue pressed hard and his fingers drove deep, bringing her hips up into his touch. Sensation went from ethereal and diaphanous to hard and solid and thick. She slammed into it, shattered it. Shattered with it. Pleasure reached out with cloying fingers and took hold, pulling her deep into it. Rainbows sparkled and glittered behind her eyes as every single muscle in her body drew taut a moment before snapping apart. Her orgasm burst across her senses, a living, breathing creature that stole the air from her lungs and the sound from her throat. Reason was gone, replaced with nothing but feeling. She swam in it, sank into it, drowned in it, until the feeling passed and every inch of her felt limp. Lethargic. Unreal.
"Sleep now, ma mie," Jean-Claude's voice was soft and gentle, like his hands when they shifted her around on the surface of the bed so that her head was nestled against one of the fluffy pillows. She barely took note of the bedding rubbing her over-stimulated flesh. Because he was pressing the tenderest of kisses to her lips and his body was curling up against hers. She felt precious and safe and cared for.
"I love you," she whispered. His own declaration, made in a whisper of French, chased her down into the depths of sleep.
~*~
Chapter One: Stained
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: mature. this one is set in the darkness that is the Beyond Death universe. language, murder, gore, non-con, violence and sex apply as warnings. possibly others. we'll see when we get there
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of LKH. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar. though i do not view this as an actual MSV story, the original characters established in Beyond Death still belong to their creators and i am merely borrowing them for the purpose of this fic
Author's Notes: so... hey. here's a fic that i probably should have just let go. but a dive down the Wikipedia hole a couple months back brought this to life. this fic starts roughly two to three months after the ending of Beyond Death
With Shards of Broken Glass - The Index
~*~
"Thanks for coming, Kinkade," Dolph said, voice low and neutral. She glanced at him and saw that he looked uncertain. "I wasn't sure you would."
Aedan lifted a hand and waved it at him. "Don't worry about it. Show me the victim." If he felt she was short with him, he said nothing about it. Instead, he nodded his head and motioned toward the trees behind him. Aedan started forward, following the faint scent of blood that drifted on the cold breeze. She wondered what kind of scene she'd be faced with if she could smell the blood from a distance in the dead of winter. Not a good one, that was for sure.
She felt Zerbrowski fall into step behind her, absently considering that he was almost silent in his steps. She should have wondered at it, but she let it go. He'd been a cop a lot of years. No doubt he'd learned to tread softly when the need arose. Several heads came up as she followed Dolph toward a small gap in the trees and she could see out of the corner of her eyes that most of them belonged to uniformed officers. And they were all white faced. Either there were a bunch of rookies there, or the crime scene was really bad.
The crunching of snow and ice underfoot marked their progression into the copse of trees, despite the fact that they were following an already compacted trail made by many feet. Winter was in full swing, the air cold and brittle and biting as it blew against her cheeks. The trees around them were bare, skeletal branches reaching toward the sky as if in supplication of some ancient god. The ground was thick with snow, her feet pressing it flatter with every step. Aedan huddled into her coat as she did her best to stifle the yawn that wanted to come, and she wished she'd brought a Coke with to have after she was done at the scene. It was just barely ten in the morning and she'd only had a few hours of sleep. Which said volumes about what Dolph had been confronted with when he'd arrived at the scene.
The soft murmur of voices from up ahead rode over the sound of their feet on the ground. Aedan had always wondered why the police whispered at crime scenes the way they did. Their speaking aloud wasn't going to disturb the dead. Most of the dead didn't care about the living. But it was like that at every scene she'd visited and the only thing she could think of was that it was a sign of respect.
The little group broke through the trees into a small, oddly shaped clearing that was filled with unpleasant smells and soft sounds and the skin-prickling feel of spent magic. Several people were crouching at the center of the clearing, some in the cheap suits that detectives wore and some in the white one piece things that marked them as crime scene personnel. Aedan took a moment to get a feel for their location, stretching out all her senses to see if she could find anything important lingering in the air that the mundanes wouldn't be able to see or hear or feel.
Beyond the scent of death and blood and the weakening magic, there was precious little. Dolph cleared his voice, bringing every eye his way. His head bobbed in the direction of the crouching group. "Clear a space. Let Kinkade work," he instructed.
Aedan watched as detectives and crime scene techs rose to their feet and stepped back, allowing her to get her first look at their victim. The woman was sprawled on her back in the snow, arms flung wide and legs slightly parted. The victim's head was turned, giving Aedan a brief view of one cheek and little else. But that wasn't the important part at the moment. The important bit was all of the blood had pooled on the snow between the woman's legs, turning it an obscene crimson. Some of the blood had dried a rusty brown on her skin and in her pubic hair. But there was something else...
Aedan inched closer, eyes trying to read the message left behind in the woman's body by the her killer. Thus far, her brain hadn't made sense of what she saw, but she was certain that wouldn't last very long. Because she was certain what she was seeing was going to become understandable in short order. Her gaze skipped from the woman's thighs to her torso, taking note of a few bruises on her flesh. Taking note of bite marks centered around the woman's nipples. Blood had dried on her breasts, a rusty stain to mark the obvious abuse she'd suffered. Aedan skirted her legs and moved up to study the woman's face.
Her eyes, once what Aedan suspected had been a vivid green, were filmed over. They were opened wide, staring sightlessly off into the distance. Fear had twisted the woman's lips into a scream. Said lips were already blue, and Aedan couldn't be sure if it was because of the cold or because of death. Auburn hair, tinted with hints of deeper red and honey gold, was spilled across the surface of the snow, frozen into clumps in some areas. Crystals of ice clung to her eyebrows and lashes. "When did it last snow?" she asked absently.
"Three nights ago," Zerbrowski answered. Aedan nodded at that.
"She was on her face at one point," she told them, though she was sure they'd already seen it. After a sound that she took to be an acknowledgement of her statement, Aedan returned her attention to the body.
The woman's fingertips had gone blue. Which contrasted with the signs of what might mean the victim fought back. She saw broken and cracked nails that were rusty with blood. But the M.E. would have to determine whether or not the blood was hers or her attacker's. There were scratches on the woman's arms and shoulders, as if something with claws or long nails had grabbed at her repeatedly. There were no bite marks that Aedan could see on the victim's throat. But that didn't mean anything yet. A pile of cloth a few feet from the woman's body proved upon a closer look to be a messy nest shredded clothing.
With her inspection of the woman's arms and torso completed, Aedan had no choice but to shift her focus to the woman's lower body and the spill of blood there. She moved down to stand by one of the vic's thighs before crouching down so that she could get a better view. Not that she wanted to. She hated crime scenes like this. Give her a shooting death. Or a knife wound. Give her an evisceration. Those were easy. This was not. This was...
A horror.
The woman had obviously been raped. It explained the lack of clothes. The way she was laid out on the ground. The trauma done to her genitals. But it didn't explain the high level of blood loss the woman had experienced.
And then Aedan caught sight of something in all that crimson and the blood loss made perfect sense. She reached out with one hand to retrieve what she'd seen, hand hovering in the air just above the woman's spilled blood. "May I?" she asked quietly.
"Go ahead," Dolph allowed.
Aedan nodded and finished reaching out. The fingers of her glove, snapped on absently upon arrival, came away with frozen blood clinging to them. But she didn't pay that any mind, instead focusing her attention on the item caught between her fingers. She scrutinized it for a moment before letting her frown come. "Its glass. Curved. Not very thick, but not very thin, either." She let the piece drop into the palm of her hand and held it up for Dolph to see. He had to step closer to do so, the piece barely longer than her nail.
"Why is there a piece of glass in the blood?" someone asked. The voice wasn't one she recognized, letting her know that it was someone new to this kind of crime scene. Aedan shot a look up to Dolph's face. Whatever he thought and felt was locked away behind his cop mask. He was going to let her go and then tell her whether she was right or wrong. Fucking peachy.
"I need a flashlight and tweezers," Aedan said by way of reply. After a moment or two of silence, there was the soft crunch of footsteps as someone approached. The requested items were set into her upturned hand without comment. She had a very bad feeling that she was the only one not in uniform who was about to confirm something she didn't want to know. She wanted to give Dolph a piece of her mind, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. So she put his presence aside and focused on the victim.
The flashlight was thin enough that she could put it between her teeth in order to leave both hands free for what she was about to do. Not that she wanted to do it. But Dolph wasn't going to give her a goddamn thing. She offered up a prayer to whatever deity might be listening, hoping the victim would understand and forgive her. She took a moment to position the flashlight so that the bright beam was shining exactly where she needed it to be. Then she reached forward.
From a distance, it had been hard to see just what had been done to the dead woman's body. This close, however, Aedan was able to see the way the flesh of her labia had been nearly shredded. Rigor mortis had yet to set in and the cold hadn't frozen the body solid, so that much abused flesh parted easily with her manipulation. When she had the victim's labia parted, she shifted the flashlight once again and slid the tweezers into the woman's body. She felt it when the tip of the tweezers hit against something solid. Careful to not do anymore damage than had already been done, Aedan took hold of the solid bit with the tweezers and slowly extracted it from the woman's body. She held it up where everyone could see it.
Even with all the blood on it, there was no denying it was a curved piece of glass. It was much larger than the piece she'd found in the snow.
"I suspect the M.E. is going to be fishing a lot of pieces of glass out of this woman's body," she said softly. There was a moment of silence, then the unmistakable sound of someone trying very hard not to hurl. Zerbrowski produced a plastic evidence bag, into which Aedan dumped her find. He sealed it, absently handing it off to one of the crime scene techs, and offered her his hand. For once, Aedan didn't think about how letting someone help her would make her look. She put her hand in his and allowed Zerbrowski to pull her to her feet. Aedan turned a look to Dolph. "How many?"
She waited for his answer, hoping against hope that he would tell her this was the first. But she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wouldn't. And she was already swearing up a storm when he finally answered. "Three."
"Three. You've had three victims like this. And this is the first time you've called me about it?" she asked softly. It didn't keep him from hearing the anger that boiled under the surface.
"In case you've forgotten, Marshal Kinkade," Dolph began, making a point of stressing her title. Aedan glared at him, letting him know that she wasn't going to be intimidated by him. "You more or less told me to lose your number unless it constituted an emergency." One hand was flung outward toward the victim's body. "Well?"
"You're telling me one woman's body turning up dead with glass embedded within her vagina doesn't constitute an emergency? How many women have to be raped before its an emergency? How many women have to die before its an emergency?" she snarled at him.
"It takes two deaths or more in the same manner to create a pattern, Kinkade," he reminded her. "And the first one was picked up by homicide. Not RPIT. I can't call you in when I'm not in charge of the case. Can I?"
"So the first time a woman shows up with broken glass inside her body, its a mundane with a very kinky side? The second body indicates a pattern? And the third? Is that when it goes to the freak squad?"
Dolph gave her a dark look, then shifted his gaze to Zerbrowski. There was a moment of silent communication, then Zerbrowski was reaching under his coat. Aedan watched as he pulled a file folder from an interior pocket. It had been folded in half and she could see the edges of glossy photos peeking out of the file. Zerbrowski offered the file to her wordlessly.
Aedan didn't want to take it. She did not want to see what someone's idea of a good time was. But she didn't have a choice. If she was going to figure out who was doing this, and why, she needed to look at the pictures. She made sure that both Dolph and Zerbrowski saw the anger in her eyes, then she flipped the file open and fell head first into blood and gore.
The file contained nothing but pictures and every last one of them was from a crime scene. The first image she was confronted with showed a woman who was almost completely naked, save a pair of shredded tights that had been ripped open at the crotch. She was stained with her own blood and Aedan didn't have to look closely to know that the flesh of her labia was shredded.
"The first victim. Candace Baker," Zerbrowski told her softly. "Twenty five. Aspiring artist who made ends meet by dancing in a strip club. Her fellow dancers all claim that everyone loved her and they can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her. She lived alone in a single bedroom apartment with a pair of goldfish. Her purse was found ditched two miles from the club where she worked. She was last seen leaving said club after her shift a week ago. Her body was found four nights ago."
Candace Baker was in much the same shape as their present victim. The photos under the first one proved it. Crime scene people had made sure to capture every scratch and bite mark in vivid detail. There were tinges of blue at her lips, in her fingers and toes. Her eyes, deep brown, were wide and sightless. Her mouth gaped slightly, suggesting she'd possibly died screaming. A head of rich red hair was fanned out around her head like the halo of a fallen angel. Her skin was bruised and scratched and bitten. And her flesh had been shredded by curved glass.
Aedan flipped to the next set of photos. Another redhead, this time with blue eyes. Her skin was darker than Candace's, even after the onset of death. Again, there was that tinge of blue at lips and toes and fingers. Scratches. Bruises. Bite marks. Shredded, bloodied labia. This one's skirt was twisted around her waist. "The perp has a type. They're all three redheads," she commented softly.
"Janice Waterston. Just turned thirty last week. She was a bartender. Worked night. Slept days. Lived alone. Not even a goldfish. Friends reported her missing six days ago. She was found two days ago."
"Was there any sodomy?"
"No. All penetration was vaginal," Dolph told her.
Aedan nodded, her attention caught by the photos. She turned over a close up of Janice's genitals to find that the photo behind it was not a crime scene photo. It was a computer model of what looked like a phallus. There appeared to be ridges that mimicked the veins in a real penis, along with the wider ridges of the flared head. But it was utterly see through. Aedan stared at it a moment, then lifted wide eyes to Dolph and Zerbrowski. "Are you telling me these women were raped by a glass dildo?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"The M.E. seems to think so. He retrieved enough broken shards to reconstruct the implement. This is a computer rendered model of what he feels it looks like." Dolph fell silent a moment or two, as if considering. "It was hollow, Kinkade. And the pattern of breakage suggests it was broken from the inside out."
"The perp broke it while..." she began, only to fall silent as the implications hit her fully. Her face felt hot and her throat tight, the way it felt before she had to throw up. Before she could even say a word, Zerbrowski had a hand on her arm and he was gently leading her away from the corpse. Away from the horror of her death. Away from memories she thought she'd put to rest months ago.
Zerbrowski didn't stop until they reached her car.
"Aedan, are you okay?"
"No," she said, swallowing hard. She wanted to shake her head, but felt like doing so would see her losing what little control she had over the urge to vomit.
She bent at the waist, put her hands on her thighs, and tried to slow her breathing. Zerbrowski stood silently while she recovered, a comforting and solid presence in the cold, oppressive silence. It took a lot longer than she liked to bring herself back under control. She didn't like losing control. It made her feel as if she was spinning in circles with no clear direction on which way to go. It made her angry.
Zerbrowski was watching her, eyes filled with concern, when she finally lifted her head to look at him. The anger must have showed in her eyes because she saw the concern shift and become something else entirely. If she didn't know better, she'd say it was fear. "Aedan..." he began, only to trail off when her look darkened.
"Do we know for certain if the perpetrator is someone from the preternatural community?" she asked, effectively cutting him off before he could voice his concerns.
For a moment, it looked like Zerbrowski wanted to ignore her question and focus on the rage that he obviously knew was building inside. But he was smart enough to know going down that road would only lead to trouble. So he shook his head at her. "So far, no. We haven't had any indications that this is a vampire or a shifter's doing."
"It probably isn't. There was magic on the air back there. Faint, but I felt it. That means our perpetrator is more than likely a human who practices magic. But that doesn't rule out anyone from the community."
"You felt magic?" he asked.
"Yes. Not much, mind you. But it was there," she confirmed. "Did you not find it at the other scenes?"
Zerbrowski shook his head. "It was four days before we found Janice Waterston. And regular detectives were in charge of Candace's crime scene. If there was any magic at those scenes, it was lost before we got there. I'm sorry, Aedan. I just don't know."
Aedan bit back the curse that sprang to her lips. It wasn't Zerbrowski's fault that they had no clue if magic had been involved in the first two crimes. She felt it was likely, but she couldn't say for certain. And she wasn't sure if she could prove one way or the other that there was magic involved with Candace and Janice's deaths. She'd have to consult with people more in the know to see if such a thing was possible. For now...
"I'm out of here. I need sleep. I'll look into the magic aspect a little more and give you guys something more definitive when I find anything out. For now, I'm going to say that this isn't the doing of any vampire, because there's too much blood left behind. And it isn't a lycanthrope, either. They'd probably eat the body. I can't give you anything beyond that until I've done some research and have more to go on."
"You okay to get home, Aedan?" Zerbrowski asked softly.
She considered responding with a smart ass comment, but she was still working on rebuilding her relationship with Zerbrowski and felt that doing so would put a serious dent in the progress they'd made. It had been hard putting aside the feelings of betrayal after the reveal of the video one of Solomon's hellspawn had made, but she'd been chipping away at it steadily. And, for his part, Zerbrowski seemed to be trying terribly hard to make that evening up to her. So she put the smart ass aside and gave him a faint smile. She couldn't quite keep the tired from it. "I'll have to be. Won't I?" she asked him.
"I can take you if you want. I'm sure Dolph will--" he began, but she waved a hand at him and brought his words to a halt.
"We both know that Dolph doesn't give a shit if I fall asleep behind the wheel and crash the car, so long as I don't kill anyone while doing so. And we both know he won't let you go before he's done here. I'll be fine, Zerbrowski. Thanks, but I can manage."
His frown told her he didn't believe her. "You look like you've been burning the candle at both ends again. You should let me take you home. Or have someone take you home."
"I've been working with Tina. She's strong and capable, but she resists my efforts at teaching her control. I can't say that I blame her. Solomon tried to use her to his own ends. She probably thinks that I'll do the same thing. Even if it is only on a subconscious level. Her resistance makes it harder than it should be." Aedan had tried to tell the girl that she couldn't just not use her powers because they didn't work that way. But Tina hadn't wanted to listen to her. Yet. Even so, she was going to find out. Angel was doing her best to help, but she didn't get it anymore than Tina did. That made Aedan's job so much harder. "I'll be fine, Zerbrowski. I can call someone to come get me if I feel like I won't be able to make it home. There's always someone waiting for just such a call."
Thus far, Aedan hadn't needed to make it. But she knew a time would come when she'd have to. And she was pretty sure it would never be a crime scene related reason. If she needed help, it would be because someone had damn near killed her.
It had been quiet on that front since she'd destroyed Vittorio. If the vampire council knew he was really dead and they missed him, they'd yet to announce it to the world. In fact, the council had been terribly quiet. Almost too quiet. Which meant Aedan was living on borrowed time. They were probably planning something, waiting for the perfect opportunity to put it into play. But for the time being, there was no one chasing after her. No one who wanted her dead. No one to make her life hell. "Go get some sleep, Kinkade. You look like shit," Zerbrowski said, killing the softness of their personal moment.
"You would know," she shot back, then climbed into her car.
~*~*~*~*~
"You look like shit," Minette said as soon as Aedan got the car door open. She frowned at her friend, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "What are you doing running around? You should be sleeping. I know you had a late night and you've been expending far more of your energy than you should be. What was so important that you needed to go out after only a few hours of sleep?"
"And a good morning to you, too, Minette," Aedan replied, climbing from the car with uncharacteristic slowness. Minette opened her mouth to tear into the woman but stopped when she caught the faint whiff of blood coming off Aedan's clothes. Of course she'd been worried when she'd found out Aedan had left the Circus only a few short hours after returning to it. Minette knew that Aedan was juggling far too many things at the moment. Her job with Animators, Inc. demanded so much of her attention. And the woman had been invited to speak at a conference for law enforcement officials in New Orleans, which she'd only gotten back from a few days prior. Add to that the fact that she'd been trying to mentor her half-sister and it was amazing that Aedan ever actually slept.
"Oh, no. A crime scene?" she asked softly.
"I am a Federal Marshal and the local preternatural expert," Aedan told her. There should have been snark in the sentence. There wasn't. There was, however, a lot of exhaustion. Minette slid an arm around her friend, using her free hand to shut the door. Then she silently urged Aedan toward the door that would let them into the Circus. It was a testament to just how tired Aedan was that she didn't bother to fight.
Minette frowned. "How bad?"
"Bad enough," Aedan replied. She didn't offer any details and Minette didn't ask. She'd learned a long time ago that she didn't want to see what kinds of horrors filled her friend's head.
"As bad as Paul and Grace?"
"Not that bad," Aedan admitted. The door opened for them, the daytime bodyguard waiting for them to step inside before pulling it closed. Minette flashed the rat a smile of thanks as she steered Aedan toward the steps. The door closed almost silently behind them, but the locks engaging were loud in the virtual silence.
Daytime hours meant that the Circus, for the most part, was silent and empty. The acts and the staff had gone home and gone to bed hours ago. If anyone was still inside, it was the cleaning crew. Anyone who worked at or lived under the Circus tended to keep odd hours. Minette likely would have been still sleeping, except she'd been woken by Aedan's anger and shock. Of course she'd checked the woman's rooms and had been unhappy when she'd found her gone. While it had been a few months since her encounter with the demon and Vittorio, Minette found she couldn't quite keep the worry and fear at bay if Aedan disappeared on her. Memories of Aedan dying lingered at the edges of her brain, just waiting for an opportune moment to remind her of the things she'd best like to forget. So naturally she kept close tabs on her friend.
"I suppose that's a small favor and we should be thankful for it. But the tone of your voice suggests its bad enough to induce nightmares," Minette told her.
"Its a crime scene, Minette. They all induce nightmares." Aedan's statement came with a healthy dose of cynicism. It also came with a yawn that stretched her mouth wide. It stopped the woman in her tracks while she tried to recover her equilibrium.
"You're going to bed. I'll drop you there to get ready to sleep. Then I'll go make you a snack. And I'm going to send someone to share the bed with you. You're low on energy. You need to feed," Minette told her sternly.
"What about my homework, mom?" Aedan asked. It only sounded like she was half-joking.
"Homework has to wait until after sleep."
"I'll be sure to tell Dolph and Zerbrowski that you said so," Aedan returned, pulling away so that she could start down the steps on her own. Minette frowned after the woman a moment before forcing herself to follow after.
"What possible homework could you have that can't wait until you get some goddamn sleep? Don't those two know what will happen if you don't rest?" she snapped, suddenly irrationally angry at the police for calling Aedan. "I swear to the heavens that they want to kill you with their incompetence."
"They don't know the preternatural world the way you and I do," Aedan said softly. Minette was surprised by the lack of fight in the woman's voice.
"With all the years they've been investigating it? They should!"
"I need to find out if there's a way to detect spent magic at a crime scene, Minette. They can't do that. They likely don't know the first place to start. I have Rhia and Janika to ask. And if they don't know, I can probably find someone else who does."
Minette took hold of her arm and brought her to a halt. "You would ask Rhia about a crime scene? Now?" She shot her friend a heavy glare that told her what she thought of the idea.
"I would if I didn't have any other options," Aedan replied, glaring right back. "I don't have to give Rhia specifics. I just need to know the how. I can actually perform the spell if I have to. Giving Rhia nightmare fuel is not high on my priority list right now, trust me. I'm the only one here who should have to live with the nightmares."
There was a touch of anger in her words with her last statement. Minette knew that it was a dig at her lack of interest in Aedan's work. Before Minette could comment on it and defend herself, the other woman pushed on as if she didn't know Minette wanted to say anything. "But if I can't find a way to stop any more murders on my own, I will use what resources I have. Even Rhia."
Aedan tugged her arm free of Minette's hold and shot her a cool look that said with great effectiveness that their discussion was over. "Don't bother with the snacks. I'll get them myself. Good night." Aedan's words were sharp and barbed. She turned without waiting for a reply and continued down the stairs on her own. A second later, Minette felt the walls slam into place that effectively cut her off from the constant, pleasant presence of the other woman's mind against her own.
"Shit," Minette snarled to herself, then hurried to catch up.
~*~
"You look like someone rocked on your tail," Jason said by way of greeting when Minette stepped into the room she shared with both him and Micah. A glance told her Micah wasn't in bed, nor was he in the bathroom. Something must have come up and Minette wondered at it briefly before Jason's words clicked in her brain.
"Do I look that ruffled?" she asked with a frown.
"If you were wearing fur, it would be standing up on end all over the place," he confirmed. Minette sighed. She hadn't wanted to bring her problems to bed with her. She certainly hadn't wanted any of her lovers to have to deal with them.
"I'm sorry. I tried to settle down but--"
"What did Aedan do now?" he asked, cutting her off before she could finish. Minette turned a wide eyed stare his way. It prompted a faint smile from Jason. He crossed the room to where she stood and tugged her into his embrace. The warmth of his hold eased some of the tension from her. "Honey, I know of only one person on the face of this planet that can get you this worked up so easily. So tell me what she did. I'll do what I can to help calm you down."
"Dolph called her," Minette told him. The laughter went out of Jason's eyes in a second.
"How bad was it?"
"She didn't really say. She insists it isn't as bad as Paul and Grace. But that doesn't really mean anything. Look at what they did," she said, then promptly shuddered. Minette pushed that unpleasant thought aside and returned to the topic at hand. "It wouldn't be an issue, but she's been running constantly for a while now. She's going to crash and burn. In a bad way. I don't understand why she does this. She's got friends to lean on. Why doesn't she do so?"
"Because she's trying to spare you the gory details," he told her. His tone plainly stated she should already know that. Minette tensed in preparation of a verbal attack, but Jason led her toward the sofa and settled her down on the cushions before joining her. "You don't want anything to do with her job, Minette. You've made it clear to her. Time and again." His voice was not unkind, despite the faint touch of accusation in it. Minette immediately bristled.
"I've never said anything about--"
"You didn't have to," Jason cut her off, a finger laid against her lips to silence her. "You made it abundantly clear. So she's keeping it from you. To save you the horror. You don't have a right to get angry when she does that because its what you want."
"But the things she sees are so horrible. How can she think I want to live with them in my head?" Minette asked him, tone defensive and maybe a little sharper than she'd intended.
"What makes you think she wants to? Or that she's even equipped to do so?" Jason paused and drew a breath, his face absolutely serious. It was not a look she saw him wear often and she wasn't sure she liked it on him. "She does it because she has to. Because she's the preternatural expert and the police go to her when they've got a crime they don't understand. Its her job. And maybe you don't see the toll having those things in her head does to her, but its there. Trust me. She's just too adept at hiding it from all of us."
Minette frowned at him. It sounded an awful lot to her like he was chastising her for wanting to keep the nightmares away. And she wanted to be mad at him for it. The problem was, she couldn't. He had a point. She'd tried to help Aedan back in the beginning. It hadn't lasted very long. Because the things the woman saw... Even thinking of it made Minette shudder.
Jason's look softened and he reached out to cup her cheek with one hand. "I understand that you want to help. I also understand that its nightmare fuel. It was for Anita. I'm sure it is for just about anyone who goes to a scene like that. But you don't have the right to get mad at her for keeping secrets when its exactly what you want."
He was right. She knew he was right. That didn't make her feel any better. "I know, Jason. I just hate seeing her so shaken and everything but ... She does and says stupid shit that makes me so angry and I forget everything."
"Surprise, surprise," he said with a half-grin. "She said something that made you angry."
Minette took offense at his obvious enjoyment of her, she thought, well deserved anger. "It never used to be like this, Jason. She used to share with me."
He sighed and shook his head at her. "She never used to be a federal marshall. She never used to consult with local law enforcement. She never used to see things that haunt sane, rational people for the rest of their lives. Things changed when you came here, Minette. Aedan adapted to suit." There was maybe just a little bit of accusation there, as if he was saying Aedan had changed and she hadn't.
Minette shot him a frown and stepped away from him. It wasn't right that he kept making excuses for Aedan's behavior. "She's talking about putting Rhia at risk." The words were practically snarled at him. Jason frowned, his expression brought on by both her words and the way she spoke them. But he didn't follow after her and try to offer comfort. It was likely he could tell she'd shrug it off if he did so.
"How?"
"She's talking about asking her for help," Minette said. As if that was enough to explain everything.
"Help," Jason repeated. His tone clearly told her he didn't understand what she was so worked up about. It also invited her to explain so that he did understand.
"She said there was faint magic used at whatever crime scene she went to tonight. She said she needed to find out if there's a way to find out if it was used at older scenes. And she said she'd ask Rhia, if she had to."
Jason stared at her, obviously expecting her to continue.
Minette sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and anger. "She's pregnant, Jason! And Aedan wants to ask her about a crime scene? What do you think will happen?"
"I think Rhia will help in whatever way she can," Jason replied. Minette shot a glare at him.
"Sure. Rhia will help in whatever way she can. And it will induce a vision. And she'll See the shit Aedan was looking at," Minette hissed. When Jason continued to stare at her like he didn't understand her anger, she growled and shook her head. "She's pregnant, Jason! What will the crime scene that Aedan doesn't want to share with me do to Rhia?"
Jason stared at her a moment, then sighed. "Rhia is an adult. If she wants to help Aedan, that's her business. She isn't a child who can't handle seeing a crime scene. And it isn't right that you want to treat her like that. Rhia may not be a lycanthrope and she may not be a necromancer, but she has power and she isn't weak. She's strong. You're doing her a disservice to treat her like she can't take care of herself."
Minette opened her mouth, ready to rip him a new one. But Jason shook his head and headed for the door. "I have to go. I have a thing. I'll see you later, Minette." He was out the door before she could do anything more than stare at him.
She stared at the door, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth down. She was pretty sure she'd just gotten the brush off. From Jason. She'd made him mad and he'd given her the brush off. She didn't like the way it felt. Not at all.
~*~*~*~*~
"Where did you go, ma mie?" Jean-Claude asked before she'd even stepped into her room. She held on to her sigh. Why did it figure that he'd be awake and waiting for her? Last she knew, he'd been on his way to bed for the day. She pushed the door to her room closed and waited for the lamp near the bed to come on. There was a click and soft light filled a small portion of the chamber. Jean-Claude stood beside her bed, watching her expectantly.
"Dolph called," she told him, not bothering to hide the weariness she felt. Not bothering to hide anything. He crossed the floor toward her, the silk of his sleep pants making soft shushing sounds as he walked. She found herself staring at him as he moved, found herself entranced by the grace in his stride and the way he held himself. Then he was pulling her into his arms to hug her close and she lost herself in the mingled scents of blood and death and that one that was uniquely him.
"How bad was it?" His voice was as gentle as his lips when they pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"It was a horror show," she whispered. Now that she was home, now that she was away from ruby colored snow and glittering pieces of glass and the condemnation hot in Dolph's eyes, she let herself unravel. Jean-Claude held her, let her lose herself in the strength of his embrace. He said nothing when the tears came, rolling silently down her cheeks. He merely kept his arms around her and held her close.
She hated that she was crying over a crime scene. But she was so tired of them. There had been far too many of them her first few months in St. Louis. She'd hoped for a reprieve, for a breather, so that she could purge the atrocities she'd been witness to from her mind. She wasn't as strong as people thought she was. But the Fates, it seemed, had more in store for her and they were going to hit her with both barrels before she had a chance to regroup. She didn't know if Jean-Claude was aware of her thoughts. If he was, he kept it to himself. He just held her and let her deal with it all in her own way.
They stood like that for several minutes. Through it all, he remained silent. Simply offered her his strength. And when the tears had dried away to nothing, when she'd put herself back together as best she could, he turned and urged her across the room toward the bathroom. She didn't protest, let him nudge her along and then settle her on the lid of the toilet while he focused on turning knobs so that water poured into the tub. She watched as he moved toward a shelf on the back wall, lifted a bottle to study it, put it back down, then picked up another one. He carried that second one with him to the tub, one hand unscrewing the cap as he went so that he could pour a good measure of the pearlescent liquid it contained into the tub. In only moments, the soft, floral scent of lavender filled the room. Aedan could see bubbles forming on the surface of the water.
Jean-Claude returned the bottle to the shelf, then slid out of his sleep pants. It was a sad testament to the state of her mind that she couldn't find it in her to admire the view.
He came to her and took her hands, easily tugging her to her feet. He said nothing as he slowly, carefully eased her out of her clothes. Her suit coat went first. It was left laying on the edge of the sink. Her holster followed, keeping the black coat in place with its weight. Deft fingers slid one button after another from the holes they'd been slipped through. The silk blouse was tugged free of her jeans and left to flutter to the floor. Her bra was next. He knelt before her, worked her boots from her feet. Each sock was removed and left to lay where it landed. He didn't stand to help her from her jeans, simply reached up and undid the fly, then eased them down over her hips. Aedan stepped out of them without being prodded. They were left on the floor in a denim pile. Her panties came last, the scrap of lace tossed aside without care.
The tub was full when he settled the two of them into the large basin, pushing her forward when he reached out to turn the tap off. Aedan sat before him, her back to his chest. His arms wound around her, serving only to hold her against him. His hands did nothing more than stroke her skin in an effort to ease the tension from her shoulders. She was bathed in his heat and the gentle press of his love for her. That went a long way toward helping her relax.
She settled deeper into the water, pressing her back more firmly into his chest. She let his hands, the combined heat of his flesh and the water, and the gentle scent of lavender coax the day's stresses from her muscles until she felt boneless. Her eyes slid shut and she let go a sigh. How did he always know just how to make things feel better?
"Tell me, ma mie," he said softly, lips brushing the tender stretch of skin just in front of her ear. It was neither request nor order. It was a curious mix of the two. She really didn't want to talk about it. But who else would understand? Who else could live with that kind of nightmare material in their head? It still hurt that Minette didn't ask her in depth questions about the crime scenes she visited. Not that Aedan didn't understand the reasons. Of course she did. But it stung, none the less. Minette had been her family far longer than Jean-Claude or anyone else.
"A woman was murdered," she whispered, trying hard to see the scene without seeing it. She felt like she was losing that battle because the bloodied snow was bright and vivid in her mind's eye.
"Which member of the preternatural community did this murder involve?" he asked. There was little in his voice to let her know what he was thinking, but she was sure he was not pleased. This was his city, after all, and he took things like murder and violence done in his community seriously.
"I'm pretty sure its a witch," she told him. A slight bit of tension slid out of him at that.
"How sure?"
"About ninety nine percent. There was a body, which kind of leaves out a lycanthrope. And there was too much blood, so that rules out the vampires," she told him. There must have been something in her voice when she hit the word 'blood' because his arms tightened their hold on her.
"How much blood, ma mie?"
"Enough that she died from exsanguination," Aedan said.
Jean-Claude fell silent for a time, occupying himself with trailing his hands across her belly and over her thighs. He let them glide up her arms and across her collar bones. He didn't try to touch her in any other way, simply stroked the tension and the fear from her muscles with the lightest of caresses. "Tell me all of it, ma mie." His words were whispered in her ear, quiet and gentle and coaxing. She didn't want to think about it anymore, wanted to put it all away and forget it ever happened. But she knew that wouldn't work. He was trying his best to help her get as much of it out as possible, so it didn't sit in a dark corner. So it didn't fester and rot and pollute her body, mind, and soul.
"The murderer raped her," she said, gaze unfocusing as she stared at the far wall. "Stripped her naked and raped her in the snow." The rest of it clogged her throat, made it difficult to go on. The same shocked horror that she'd felt earlier filled her again. He tightened his hold on her, hugging her to him to remind her that she was safe.
"How does that relate to the blood loss?" he asked gently.
Aedan swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to stem the flood of memory. It came anyway, and she found herself once more kneeling next to the corpse in the snow. This time, though, Jean-Claude was with her. He stood not far behind her, staring over her shoulder at the crime scene laid out before them. She didn't have to look to know that his attention had been snared by the crimson stain in the snow between the vic's legs. "The murderer used a glass dildo to rape her. And they shattered it while it was inside her body. Based on what little I got to see, it looks like they continued to rape her after they'd shattered the glass."
Jean-Claude said nothing for a moment, then he closed the distance between them. The crunch of his feet in the snow was loud in the still clearing. She let him pull her to her feet. Let him slide an arm around her shoulders so that he could pull her close to him. "This is not the first one. Is it?"
"No. Two more. I saw photos from the crime scenes. Just like this one," she told him, one hand motioning to the corpse laid out in the snow.
"What makes you believe that this was done by a witch? Why not a mortal?" he asked.
"There was magic on the air when I got here earlier. I don't think she'd been dead for very long," Aedan told him.
"What of the other crime scenes?"
She drew a breath and shook her head, turning away from the body in the snow. Jean-Claude's eyes were bright. Filled with warmth and compassion. With understanding. She let him pull her into his embrace and hug her to him tightly. "The first victim went to regular homicide. Dolph got the second. And the third. He said it wasn't a pattern until he had three bodies." She let the disgust she felt over that paint her words.
"Dolph is not you, Aedan. Do not make him out to be the monster in this because he did not call you sooner."
"How many women have to die before its important enough to call me in? How many crimes have you heard of where the victim was fucked with and killed by a glass dildo? How come I'm always the last option?"
"I do not know, ma mie," he said softly, hands stroking down her back lightly. "What I do know is that you will find the person doing this. And you will end their crime spree."
Just like that, they were back in her bathroom, back in that spacious tub. She was surrounded by warm, soothing water and the gentle, soothing scent of lavender and the gentle, soothing feel of his body around hers. Aedan snuggled into him and did her best to push the images of another crime scene from her mind. "I'd like to do that before someone else dies," she whispered.
"Do you have any information that can lead you toward the murderer?" One hand stroked down the length of her arm, his fingers twining in hers so that he held her hand.
"No."
"Then, sadly, I do not see that happening. What will you do next?"
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep for the day?" she asked, hoping the change of subject would help steer him away from her crime scene. There was a faint shift of his chest, his chuckle rumbling against her ear.
"I was getting ready to seek my rest when I felt your distress. I decided sleep could wait until I knew you were home and safe," he told her gently. Warmth spread through her at the thought that he'd been worried.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to disrupt your sleep."
"There is nothing to apologize for," he replied, voice low and intimate in the near silence of the bathroom. The only constant sound was the soft ripple of water lapping against their skin and the sides of the tub that accompanied each shift of his hands. Otherwise, there was little else and, for this once, the silence was as soothing as the feel of Jean-Claude wrapped around her. Aedan closed her eyes and let go a sigh. She thought she could sit like this all day, but she was exhausted and needed sleep. So did he. As far as she knew, he wasn't capable of remaining awake all day long.
"I should let you go to bed." She tried to pull from his hold, intent on drying off and climbing into bed. She went nowhere.
"I will rest after you have gone to sleep." His hold was absolute. Aedan shifted her head around so she could look up at him. It was awkward and uncomfortable.
"You don't have to do that. I plan on turning the phone off before I climb into bed and hide between the sheets for the rest of the day. I may even call work and beg off for the evening." She didn't add that she was beyond tired, that she was moving well past the realm of exhaustion. She was at her limits and she knew it, but she didn't know how to step back and rest. There was always something that seemed to need her attention. In fact, she was supposed to give Tina another lesson tonight. She wasn't sure she was mentally up to it.
"I know I do not have to do it. But I will, because you need rest. I can feel how tired you are. It resides in your very bones. You are no good to anyone if you do not regain your full energy, Aedan. Not Tina. Not Dolph. Not any of your friends. Not me."
His words came with a faint brush of anger and concern, letting her know that he was well aware of just how much she'd been pushing lately. It had been that way ever since Vittorio. There had always been something. There had been few crime scenes, but she'd been asked to speak at a conference. And there had been a few executions to handle. Hunting vampires took time and patience and energy. And there had been her half-siblings. She'd had to ensure that her half-siblings were well cared for. That meant finding homes for all of them. Homes with people who understood the specific trauma they'd gone through. Homes where they would be loved unconditionally. Homes where they would be safe.
It had been a daunting task. Most people didn't want kids who came with a crapton of baggage. No one wanted to deal with a child's trauma. So it had taken time and effort to find them all some place to go. It had taken lots of background checks, both those done by groups like family services and those done by Edward because she'd asked him to make doubly sure all of those boys and girls would be safe and loved. She couldn't give them any of that personally. She was going to be damn sure they got it from the people who took them in.
On top of all that, there was Bert and his constant desire to shove Aedan into Anita's shoes. She'd tried to talk to him about it, to convince him to stop billing her as the next Anita Blake. Of course he hadn't listened. She was nearly at the end of her rope there and she was starting to think there was no way to make the man understand that she was not Anita Blake.
Sometimes, she wished she could run away from it all. That she could dump all of her shit in someone's lap and take off for parts unknown. She couldn't, though, if for no other reason than Edward would track her ass down and drag her back. Probably beaten and bloodied.
Her friends tried. They really did. But she was well aware that none of them were emotionally equipped to deal with the shit she dealt with. Minette had tried to help her with the crime scenes, back at the beginning of it all. But she couldn't handle the things Aedan saw. Which Aedan found almost laughable, given that Minette went furry once a month and liked to hunt her meals. Janika could handle some of it. She'd seen her fair share of horrors. But Aedan had seen the looks she'd gotten from the other woman after they'd taken on Vittorio and his cronies. She knew that some part of Janika was afraid of her.
Maybe she had reason to be.
Rhia was out. Between the pregnancy and still trying to get a handle on her new powers, Aedan didn't want to bother her with the gorier things. Especially since there was no telling if Rhia would end up Seeing it or not. She didn't want to wish that on Rhia. Once had been bad enough.
"Come, ma mie," Jean-Claude said, breaking across her thoughts. He rose to his feet, taking her with him, then lifted her out of the tub and set her on the bathmat to drip. She watched absently as he pulled the stopper from the drain so that the water could run out. He joined her on the mat and took a moment to press a gentle kiss to her lips before he fetched towels with which to dry them off. She stood there and let him buff away the water that clung to her skin. With each pass of the towel, the soft scent of lavender wafted up to fill her nose. Each breath pulled relaxation into her lungs and saw some of the tension sliding out of her muscles.
By the time Jean-Claude had finished, she was yawning and almost boneless. He smiled at her and let the towels lay where he dropped them. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the other room. A tray of fruit rested on the bed, a glass of cold juice on the stand next to it. "You will eat and then you will sleep. I will hold you until you drift off."
It was on the tip of her tongue to argue about the fruit. She was so tired and she wanted to sleep. But she knew better. He wouldn't let her get away with it. Especially since she knew, if he asked, she couldn't name when she'd last eaten. It had been a very long, very trying day. So she nodded and let him carry her to the bed, let him settle her on it next to the tray. Even as he made his way around to the other side, Aedan picked up an apple slice and nibbled at it.
Jean-Claude settled on the mattress and lifted the tray with one hand. The other was used to pull her closer to him. When she was sitting at his side, he laid the tray across both their laps and selected a chunk of watermelon for her. It was crisp and sweet and juicy. A bite saw liquid dribbling down her chin. He leaned in and used his tongue to lick the droplets of moisture away. Then he drew back and allowed her to finish off the piece of melon.
Each new piece of fruit was accompanied with a tender touch of some kind. A kiss to steal the taste whatever lingered on her lips. A swipe of his tongue to clean away adventurous droplets of juice that dared run down her chin. The one time a drop made it to her breast brought forth a soft sigh and a rush of need when his lips claimed her nipple and teased it gently. It was a slow, sensual process. By the time the tray was emptied of its juicy sweet fare, fire raced under Aedan's skin.
He rid them of the tray, absently dropping it to the floor with a faint thud. Aedan turned toward him, eager to continue what they'd started. But he caught her and shifted her position so that she sat between his legs, her back turned toward him. She was about to ask him if there was a problem when his hands slid up her back to curl over her shoulders. The press of his fingers and thumbs along the muscles around her neck saw her moaning softly. He worked the tightness from her muscles with slow, steady massaging until her head dropped forward and her chin hit her chest.
His lips left a kiss against the back of her neck before blazing a trail across her shoulder. As he did so, his hands moved lower, fingers never halting their massaging motion. She found herself leaning forward to give him better access to her back. The lower he got, the closer her torso got to the mattress until she was practically laying on it.
She found herself on her back and wasn't sure how she'd gotten there, but such things became unimportant when his hands started gliding up her thighs toward her hips. All that mattered was the feather-light way his hands moved over her skin and the fire that burned under it any place he touched her.
Some part of her brain still capable of thought knew what he was doing, that he was using the simplest, sharpest tool in his arsenal to push the morning aside and leave her too exhausted for even dreams. They were both well aware that sex would put her to sleep faster than anything. But she knew that there wouldn't be full sex between them. She could beg him to fuck her and he'd deny her the pleasure. Not that he wasn't going to please her. He just wasn't going to do it the way she wanted him to. She wanted to protest, wanted to rise up and throw herself on him. Already, though, he was working magic with his hands so that she felt boneless. There was no way she could lift a finger, much less her whole body, in order to take what she wanted.
He whispered something in French, his voice low. It was a counterpoint to her sighs and moans, to the sound of her body shifting restlessly against the silk bedding beneath her. Then his lips pressed a kiss to her throat, right over the throbbing vein there. She shuddered at the feel of his fangs grating against her skin, pleasure skittering outward from that single touch in a roar of flames that prompted muscles to tighten down as a small orgasm shook her.
His hands blazed a trail across her flesh, fingers plucking and tweaking at her nipples, while is mouth followed in their wake. He pressed kisses everywhere, traced patterns against her skin with his tongue. She knew he was laying claim to her and she reveled in it. Words fell from her mouth, but none of them made sense to her. She wasn't sure if she was speaking in tongues or if the words were coming out garbled and mangled. It didn't matter, because Jean-Claude seemed to understand her perfectly. His hands shifted to her hips and stroked the swell of their curves while his tongue laved the indentation of her navel.
Each touch, each kiss, each nibble, each press of tongue and stroke of finger, built the fire higher and higher. Need trembled like a newly unfurled leaf caught in a gale deep within her belly. Aedan wanted him so badly, she ached with it. She tried to ask for more, tried to ask him to fill her up and complete her. But words didn't exist and her brain was big ball of mush incapable of forming even the most basic images. So she writhed and moaned and hoped that he understood what she needed from him.
Jean-Claude lifted his head from her belly button to look at her, eyes gone dark with his own passions. She saw raw hunger in them. And regret. "I know, ma mie. I know. But not tonight. You need rest. More than you need anything else. Much as I would love to make love to you, it requires more time than I am willing to spare. Allow me to do this. Later, I will spend an entire night making love to you."
She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to rant and rage. But she knew he was right. Hadn't she been thinking about how tired she was just a little bit ago? She watched him stare at her, gaze intent on her face. He was obviously waiting for her to say something. Aedan gave him a smile, hands reaching for him in order to pull him down to her. The kiss was long and slow, all hot and moist and full of promise. He let his tongue dip between her lips, let it glide against her own. It was a tease and a preview of things to come. When he pulled back, that same promise was in his eyes. Then he drew away from her and shifted his focus.
Aedan was not surprised when his hands slid between her and the bedding. He molded them to the curves of her ass, lifting her hips up so that they were a foot off the mattress. She watched as he hooked her knees over his shoulders, as he returned his hands to her hips and took hold of them to offer her support. His gaze met and held hers over the length of her torso. Then her eyes were fluttering shut because his mouth sealed itself over her nether lips and the entire world slipped away.
His tongue slid forward to trace the swollen flesh carefully. She let go a gasp that sounded loud in the near silence. Her hands curled themselves into the bedding and held on for dear life. Each flick of his tongue saw another bolt of need slam right into her very core. The fire raging there burned higher and higher, leaving her with the feeling that she was going to explode into thousands of pieces before he finished with her.
Slowly, so very slowly, his tongue worked its way between her lips. The tip of it grazed her clit. Sparks erupted behind her eyelids and her spine arched up, pressing her body against his mouth all the harder. He took it as an invitation and sent his tongue plunging as far inside of her as it could get. She gasped at the invasion, so close to what she wanted and yet so very far away from it. He drew the talented muscle back before plunging it forward again. In and out, Slow, then fast, then slow again. She writhed in need, whimpering for more. For something.
He lowered her down onto the mattress, his mouth never breaking contact with her flesh, so that she was on her back. Her legs were still hooked over his shoulders as he settled himself between her thighs so that he could apply himself more intently to her pleasure. His hands joined forces with his tongue and lips, fingers plunging into the depths of her body to stroke in and out so he could apply his tongue to her clit with a diligence that should have been commended.
The way his fingers delved deep, two and three at a time. The way his mouth kept a gentle pressure on her lips, swollen with need. The way his tongue laved her clit, teasing and working it into a tight nub. All of that stimulus worked to shove her over the edge. She felt as if she was free falling through space, an overload of sensation riding her as she plummeted down toward the deep pool of pleasure spreading across the surface of the world beneath her.
And then she hit. His tongue pressed hard and his fingers drove deep, bringing her hips up into his touch. Sensation went from ethereal and diaphanous to hard and solid and thick. She slammed into it, shattered it. Shattered with it. Pleasure reached out with cloying fingers and took hold, pulling her deep into it. Rainbows sparkled and glittered behind her eyes as every single muscle in her body drew taut a moment before snapping apart. Her orgasm burst across her senses, a living, breathing creature that stole the air from her lungs and the sound from her throat. Reason was gone, replaced with nothing but feeling. She swam in it, sank into it, drowned in it, until the feeling passed and every inch of her felt limp. Lethargic. Unreal.
"Sleep now, ma mie," Jean-Claude's voice was soft and gentle, like his hands when they shifted her around on the surface of the bed so that her head was nestled against one of the fluffy pillows. She barely took note of the bedding rubbing her over-stimulated flesh. Because he was pressing the tenderest of kisses to her lips and his body was curling up against hers. She felt precious and safe and cared for.
"I love you," she whispered. His own declaration, made in a whisper of French, chased her down into the depths of sleep.
~*~
(no subject)
Date: 2019-09-17 03:10 am (UTC)I SO love it when you play in this universe! (Even if there a few 'yucks' along the way...you are WAY too good at crime scenes...makes me wonder about you. ;) )
Poor Aedan, man...she's been through vast amounts of shit, hasn't she? Her determination to protect people she cares about it is so awesome, even if can be detrimental to her own health (physical and/or mental.) I really do wonder, however, about her job and the toll these scenes are taking on her and how long she can keep this up. Of course she has some pretty hot therapy waiting for her...
And holy shit I have a brand new interest in fruit plates! :)
LOVE love love it, sweetie. Aedan's one of my fave chars of yours and it's always great to see her! :)
xxooo
(no subject)
Date: 2019-09-17 03:24 am (UTC)Aedan has dealt with lots of crap. and its entirely possible that she will have more to deal with. maybe not. i think she'll hold up better than she feels she will. she's still trying to settle into all her roles at this point so... give her a little more time and she should maybe be capable of handling it. maybe
after having written that, i realized there should have been meats and cheeses on the tray, too. but i guess just fruit was okay. she'll just have to eat more when she wakens.
glad you enjoyed, bb. thanks for reading!